Disaster… destruction and chaos.

  Screams pierced the air as the smell of blood and smoke mingled with the dust kicked up by the blows. Innocent volunteers were mercilessly pushed to the ground; some barely managed to cover their faces before receiving brutal kicks. Children cried, violently subdued, dragged away as if they were nothing more than worthless objects.

  And in the midst of all this hell, one woman remained standing.

  Abel.

  Her body covered in wounds, her breathing heavy and exhaustion weighing on every muscle, she stood firm against the bandits. Her eyes burned with fierce determination as she tried, with what little strength she had left, to stop the chaos.

  "Hey, old woman, stop resisting and hand over the children you have locked up in there," spat one of the bandits, smiling contemptuously.

  Two men lunged at her with their swords raised, confident, eager to finish the job.

  They didn't even touch her.

  Two ice stakes formed instantly in front of Abel and shot out violently, piercing the bodies of the attackers. Blood splattered the floor as both fell lifeless, their expressions frozen in surprise and terror.

  "Don't think that because you outnumber me, you miserable, disgusting vermin, you can break me..." Abel growled, barely able to stand.

  "Damn old woman!" shouted another bandit. "Kill a woman so she understands we mean business!"

  One of them immediately turned to one of the volunteers, who was kneeling, trembling, unable to move. He raised his sword slowly, enjoying the fear on her face.

  The blade never came down.

  A knife sank forcefully into his back, piercing him from side to side. The bandit let out a muffled groan before collapsing.

  It had been one of the young men. The same one who, some time ago, had tried to intimidate Kael.

  "Go to hell, you damn cockroaches!" he shouted, his voice broken with fear and rage.

  Clutching a kitchen knife with both hands, he stood in front of them, determined to resist even though he knew he had no real chance.

  "Damn brat... we don't need you, so it'll be easy to kill you," said one bandit with a crooked smile.

  He picked up a rock from the ground and threw it with brutal precision. The projectile hit the young man squarely in the forehead.

  The blow was sharp.

  The boy fell backward, almost unconscious, blood slowly trickling down his face.

  The bandit advanced slowly, raising his sword with clear intent to finish him off.

  "Die, you worthless piece of trash..."

  At that moment, several ice stakes shot toward him. The bandit narrowly managed to dodge them, rolling to one side.

  "Damn old woman, kill that old fool already," he roared.

  Several bandits pounced on Abel, forcing her to retreat, giving the other one enough time to return to the fallen young man.

  The boy, still dazed, could barely move. His eyes closed for a second, resigned to his cruel fate.

  Then, a small shadow appeared behind the bandit.

  A sharp blow rang out.

  A staff struck the man's head with brutal force, knocking him unconscious instantly and causing him to collapse like an empty sack.

  The bandits were perplexed.

  A child.

  A mere child had knocked one of their own out of action.

  "Young master! What are you doing here?!" exclaimed Abel, his eyes wide open.

  "The party's over, bitches," Kael shouted with a dangerous smile.

  Kael approached the wounded young man and quickly examined him. He was bleeding, but still conscious.

  "Hey, buddy, I need you to be strong," he said firmly. "I'll take care of those worms. You gather the others and run away."

  The young man looked at him, completely bewildered. He couldn't process how a child of almost four years old had defended him with such precision. Still, he nodded, gritted his teeth, and staggered away to carry out the order.

  Three bandits jumped on Kael at the same time, trying to subdue him by sheer force of numbers.

  Kael moved.

  With his staff, using basic but perfectly executed techniques, he managed to overpower all three. Precise strikes, use of balance, taking advantage of every mistake. In a matter of seconds, he knocked them out, leaving them lying on the ground.

  // -- Damn it... now you can really show off... -- //

  Kael (thinking):

  Of course... with my dimensional cube, I can store all my weapons and armor. And with the latest thing Drakum taught me, my own weapons are the most powerful in my arsenal...

  "What the hell...? How could a brat like him take on three bandits?" muttered one, backing away.

  Abel watched the scene in complete bewilderment. She knew something from what Redda had told her, but she never imagined that the young master was so capable.

  This time there were five.

  Kael felt he had to go one step further. He began to channel magic into his body, strengthening his muscles and reflexes. He moved with agility, precision, and a coldness that did not correspond to his age.

  Two fell unconscious after well-aimed blows.

  He dodged the third with a clean turn and, with a quick movement, struck him directly on the back of the neck. The man fell without making a sound.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The other two tried to take advantage of the moment, but they mysteriously fell to the ground, with deep wounds on their foreheads, completely unconscious.

  Ten bandits remained.

  They surrounded Kael and Abel, closing the circle.

  Abel stood next to him, breathing heavily.

  "My boy, please don't expose yourself any more," she said urgently. "I'll cast an attack spell. Use it to escape..."

  Kael looked at her with absolute calm.

  "Aunt Abel, calm down... we've already won."

  Abel looked at him, incredulous.

  Kael took ten tiny darts out of his backpack. Each one had a microscopic groove at the tip, where a thick amber-colored liquid glistened: concentrated extract of the Amanita muscaria mushroom.

  Kael (thinking):

  Not bad... how wonderful. This world has too many similarities to ours. Even these damn mushrooms work the same way: they block the nerves and leave people stiff as a board.

  The darts began to float around Kael, spinning gently as he channeled compressed air into each one. The internal pressure vibrated like a low, almost imperceptible hum.

  Kael pointed with a slight gesture of his hand.

  "Here goes one..." he whispered.

  The projectiles shot out like air bullets.

  As soon as one of the darts grazed the first bandit's shoulder, he reflexively raised his sword...

  And suddenly, his fingers opened uncontrollably. The blade fell to the ground with a sharp sound and the man collapsed as if someone had disconnected his body.

  "W-what...? My arms... no..." stammered another as he received a slight impact to the thigh.

  His legs simply stopped obeying him. He fell to his knees, fully conscious, staring at his limbs as if they no longer belonged to him.

  One after another, the ten bandits fell to the ground. None of them died. They were all breathing. They could all see and hear... but they were unable to move a single finger.

  The silence that followed was thick, uncomfortable, broken only by muffled moans and heavy breathing.

  Kael (thinking):

  And that's the mild dose... the light version. Good night, you bastards.

  Abel watched the scene, unable to close her mouth.

  "What Redda said was true..." he murmured. "You have a very advanced mastery of magic..."

  "Of course I do," Kael replied proudly.

  He didn't get to finish his sentence.

  The shadow moved.

  A dark magic suddenly manifested itself beneath Kael's feet. The ground seemed to liquefy, turning black, and a tentacle of darkness emerged violently, wrapping around his neck and lifting him off the ground.

  Kael dropped his staff, choking and kicking in the air.

  Abel reacted immediately, casting a desperate spell, but another black tentacle emerged from the wall beside her and struck her brutally, throwing her several meters and leaving her completely incapacitated.

  // -- I told you, you big idiot, that it was extremely dangerous... He's a dark wizard! -- //

  The air grew heavy.

  That man was no mere bandit.

  He was a high-level dark wizard, a user of forbidden magic whose mere presence blackened the surroundings. He was tall and thin, wrapped in a black robe torn at the edges, as if it were made of living shadows. A reddish cape fell over his shoulders, seeming to burn and fade with the rhythm of his breathing, giving off an infernal glow that illuminated his pale face.

  His skin was so white that it bordered on cadaverous.

  And his gaze...

  Cold. Empty. Deeply hostile.

  Beneath his long dark hair, his eyes looked like two bottomless wells, incapable of reflecting any compassion. A sacrilegious symbol hung from his chest, resembling a distorted cross, charged with an energy that made the walls of the old orphanage vibrate.

  When he raised his hand, the magic responded immediately.

  Tentacles of darkness, thick as pitch, sprouted from the floor and walls, writhing like living creatures. There were no chants or prior preparation: only the pure violence of a spell unleashed by someone accustomed to killing without hesitation.

  Kael knew this was no ordinary mage.

  For the first time since he had arrived in this world, he was facing something truly threatening. Something that even intimidated him.

  With what little strength he had left, he managed to move one of the floating darts and launched it with his magic.

  The projectile struck...

  But it collided with a dark and twisted aura that deflected it, causing it to bounce off without doing any real damage.

  The wizard, visibly impressed, smiled.

  "Impressive..." he said in a deep voice. "I don't need those damn brats. Having you is enough for me. You are a true marvel. So small and using magic... you will undoubtedly be an inexhaustible source of energy for my spells.

  "Hahahahaha..."

  Kael felt rage rising from his stomach.

  He knew exactly what he meant.

  "Don't underestimate me, you miserable worm," he spat, his teeth clenched.

  Solid projectiles began to emerge from his backpack. They weren't simple darts this time. They were real bullets, made of compact steel.

  Kael concentrated a large amount of oxygen into ten of them and applied heat in a controlled manner.

  The decision was made.

  Kill... or die.

  The first projectile struck the wizard. The dark magic repelled it, but the blow was strong enough to make him take a step back.

  "Hey! What did you do? That hurt," the wizard growled, surprised.

  The other projectiles flew one after another, hitting different parts of his body. Each blow caused his concentration to falter, destabilizing his spell.

  The tentacle that was suffocating Kael dissipated.

  Kael fell to the ground, gasping for breath, but he wasted no time.

  He focused his magic on his body and his now-reinforced staff and lunged forward. He delivered a direct blow with the tip of the weapon.

  The impact was brutal.

  The wizard was thrown out of the orphanage, crashing through walls and wood, destroying everything in his path.

  "Damn brat... that hurt..." he growled, rising from the rubble.

  Kael, with immeasurable fear lodged in his chest but with unwavering courage and determination, stood his ground. His only goal was clear: to save the children.

  " Shut up, worm, worm," he said in a trembling but firm voice, "because today you will fall before me.

  "Arrogant brat..." spat the wizard.

  More tentacles emerged, lunging to grab him.

  Kael dodged them with precision and efficiency, moving between shadows and blows. He loaded more projectiles and fired them, seeking to damage him enough to buy time.

  The wizard, clearly annoyed at prolonging the conflict, spoke with a voice full of hatred.

  "Insolent little brat... you will become my personal magic container for many years, until you die."

  He began to release an immense amount of accumulated dark magic. The air vibrated violently.

  Kael felt true terror.

  This was not just an enemy. It was a monster that wanted to annihilate him in the cruelest and most painful way possible.

  Kael took up a defensive position, determined to hold out as long as necessary, desperately hoping for reinforcements to arrive.

  The moment the wizard prepared to attack, a shadow appeared beside him.

  A kick.

  The wizard's body flew against the walls of the orphanage, crashing with such force that it completely destroyed them.

  The impact was devastating.

  The wizard crashed into the walls with such violence that stone and wood exploded in all directions. The crash shook the entire place, raising a cloud of dust and debris that covered the battlefield.

  Kael barely had time to blink.

  That presence...

  It wasn't the calm and polite guardian he knew.

  It was Enta.

  But not as usual.

  Now, standing before him, was a beast.

  A true panther on the prowl, with energy overflowing from his body like an untamed gale. His eyes glowed with a dangerous light, filled with a murderous fury that had been contained for too long. Every movement he made conveyed a clear intention: to hunt.

  Enta quickly moved to stand beside his young master, adopting a firm and protective stance. His face showed no trace of leniency.

  "Young Kael..." he said in a grave voice. "I hope you are prepared for the punishment you will receive for committing this insubordination.

  Kael stared at him.

  He did not look away.

  He swallowed, feeling the weight of his own decisions, but he stood his ground.

  "Yes, Uncle Enta..." he replied with determination. "I deserve it. I made a serious mistake and put you in danger... I have no excuse. I am responsible... and I have no right to ask for forgiveness. I don't deserve it."

  He paused, taking a deep breath.

  "But with my insubordination... no one at the orphanage died."

  Enta watched him silently.

  For a moment, something resembling surprise flashed across his eyes.

  "We'll see about that later," he finally said. "Now I'm going to eliminate this damn worm... his mere presence makes me nauseous."

  Enta began to release his wind energy with greater intensity. The air around him swirled violently, kicking up dust, wood debris, and fragments of stone. His body began to grow slowly, expanding, releasing the beast that he truly was.

  The pressure became suffocating.

  It was Enta.

  The lord of the beasts.

  The leopard.

  The murderous shadow.