Chapter 184 – The Scent of Trust and Betrayal
“Hey? Hey! Could you bind me tighter? If I slip away because your rope is loose, you can’t blame me, alright?”
“Oh, shut up and stay still already!”
“Waiii~ scary?”
Lyra snarled as she pulled the rope hard enough to bite into skin.
Selvara offered no resistance.
None.
She sat cross-legged on the floor like an obedient criminal awaiting trial, tail laid neatly behind her — though she did tilt her head.
“Wrap the base of the tail too. If you leave that gap, I can leverage it.”
Lyra froze.
“…You’re enjoying this.”
“Professional courtesy ?”
The rope tightened again.
Selvara inhaled softly.
The room smelled of wind mana, fresh wood splinters… and Ivaline.
Faint.
Lingering on the air like warmth after someone leaves a seat.
She let that scent settle into her lungs.
Safe.
Interesting.
“So, you’re with the beast army?” Seraphine asked coldly.
“With them? Nope.”
“Earlier you said the beast general didn’t like my flight magic!”
“Yes, I said that.”
“And you’re not with them?!”
“N? O? P? E?”
Seraphine’s temple twitched.
Vaelis’ grip tightened.
Lyra looked ready to gag her.
Ivaline stepped forward.
“Be honest.”
“Haiii?”
Selvara’s tone shifted immediately.
Softer.
Obedient.
Bias was obvious enough to make the other three stare at Ivaline.
“…You’re not with the beast army,” Ivaline said carefully.
“But you work for them.”
“If you phrase it properly? Yes ?”
“See?” Selvara smiled. “You just needed better wording.”
Lyra tied the final knot viciously.
Selvara toppled sideways like a bound fish.
“…That looks uncomfortable,” Ivaline said.
“Mm. Slightly. But better than a cage.”
“Why surrender?” Seraphine asked sharply. “You could have forced your way out.”
Selvara’s golden eyes slid to Ivaline.
“Because I trust you.”
Silence.
Three heads turned slowly toward Ivaline.
What did you do earlier?
We just apart from each other less than three hours.
Ivaline didn’t react.
“…That’s beside the point. You’re in danger.”
Selvara adjusted her posture, sitting upright despite the bindings.
Her nose twitched.
Smoke from torches.
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Iron.
Sweat.
And something else.
Distant.
Faint.
Beastkin.
Outside the fort.
Waiting.
“General Silva never moves with one plan,” she said calmly. “If he sent me, something else is already moving.”
Lyra scoffed. “Trying to panic us so you can slip away?”
Selvara didn’t even look at her.
She kept her eyes on Ivaline.
“Check your key facilities. Storage. Water. Medicine. Clinic.”
Those were the four places she’d observed while under escort.
Four pressure points.
Four collapse triggers.
“If even one is compromised,” she added lightly, “your fort falls without a siege.”
Seraphine’s expression darkened.
“You’re efficient. Giving your enemies that information.”
“Ehehe ? Praise me?”
“I’ll pluck your eyes out.”
“Scary~”
But Selvara’s ears twitched again.
Closer now.
A familiar scent approaching the perimeter.
“What now?” Seraphine asked.
“We check,” Ivaline said.
“And her?”
“Let her stay. Someone will come after the noise anyway.”
Selvara’s smile deepened just slightly.
Smart girl.
“You won’t flee.”
“I won’t ?”
Truth.
She would not.
No lie detect.
Ivaline stepped forward and patted her head.
Just once.
Soft.
Warm palm.
Selvara froze.
A sound escaped her throat before she could stop it.
“…Mm.”
Her body leaned unconsciously into the touch.
The scent of Ivaline’s body brushed against her senses.
Clean.
Uncomplicated.
Claim without cruelty.
The others saw it.
Seraphine’s jaw tightened.
Lyra’s eye twitched.
Vaelis looked ready to cut something.
“Stay,” Ivaline said. “We’ll talk later.”
“Okay ?”
Pomf.
Selvara lay down obediently and closed her eyes.
Listening.
Counting heartbeats.
Tracking footsteps as they all left.
The room quieted.
Then—
Crack.
Glass shifted.
A scent flooded in through the window.
Wet fur.
Wild.
Pack.
A pair of golden beast-eyes met hers through the gap.
Selvara opened one eye lazily.
“I said I wouldn’t escape,” she murmured softly.
“But if someone takes me…”
The window shattered silently.
A large beastkin slipped inside and cut the ropes with a single motion.
“…you can’t blame me, right?”
She rose smoothly.
Free.
The rope fell away like shed skin.
Before leaving, she glanced once at the door Ivaline had exited through.
Touched her own head briefly where that small hand had rested.
“…Guess I won’t get another head pat.”
And she was gone.
Meanwhile – The Four Checks
Seraphine reached the water supply.
Nothing.
No tampering.
She checked twice.
“…Was she lying?”
But the scent of beastkin lingered faintly near the outer wall.
Not here.
Elsewhere.
Lyra inspected medicine stock.
Guards intact.
No breach.
“If she lied, I’ll peel her scales off.”
But something in her chest felt unsettled.
Vaelis entered the clinic.
Injured soldiers breathed weakly.
Healers moved in urgency.
All intact.
Her grip tightened.
Reptile woman.
Should she have cut off that tail?
Ivaline reached the food storage.
Everything looked normal.
Guards greeted her casually.
But her [Perception] stirred.
One window slightly ajar.
It had been sealed earlier.
She fired her sling and pulled herself upward.
Third floor.
Inside—
Crates from the Meteor Fall convoy.
Two still being unloaded.
And there—
A large werewolf moving from crate to crate.
Sprinkling white powder lightly across the top layer.
Just enough.
Subtle.
Calculated.
Most would never notice.
But Ivaline could feel it.
The air disturbed.
Food tainted.
Most crates were done.
Slash.
The wind cutter carved deep.
Fur split.
Blood sprayed across flour sacks.
The werewolf’s howl tore through the storage hall like a war horn.
Not fear.
Fury.
Its yellow eyes snapped upward.
Third floor beam.
Half-elf.
“YOU—!”
The floor beneath it exploded as it kicked upward.
Wood cracked under the force of its leap.
Ivaline barely pivoted in time.
Claws slammed into the beam where she’d been perched.
The timber shattered.
She dropped with the debris, landing lightly between stacked crates.
The werewolf hit the ground like a falling boulder.
BOOM.
Shockwave knocked two crates off their position.
“ENEMY INSIDE—!”
The door burst open.
Too late.
The beast was already moving.
It grabbed a guard by the collar and swung him like a club into another.
Bone cracked.
Both hit the wall and slid down unconscious.
A spear thrust toward its ribs.
The werewolf caught the shaft mid-thrust and yanked the soldier forward—
Headbutt.
Blood sprayed from a crushed nose.
Then claws raked across the man’s chest plate.
Steel shrieked.
Armor dented.
The soldier screamed and collapsed.
“Back! Form up!”
Too cramped.
Too many crates.
The beast moved like it owned the vertical space.
It leapt atop the imported grain stack and kicked a full crate over.
It burst mid-air.
Rice and barley cascaded down like sandstorm.
Visibility reduced.
Perfect.
Through the chaos—
Ivaline closed distance.
Slash.
Another wind arc cut across its thigh.
This time it staggered.
But instead of fleeing—
It grinned.
Blood dripped from its muzzle.
“At least most of it’s done!”
It slammed both palms into the crate beneath it—
CRACK.
The wood splintered and powder burst into the air.
White dust mingled with grain.
Guards coughed.
“Don’t inhale it!” Ivaline shouted.
The werewolf lunged again — not at her.
At the nearest guard.
Claws pierced shoulder.
Lifted him off the ground.
“AAAA—!”
Ivaline dashed.
Blade flashed.
She cut deep across its forearm.
The beast roared and threw the guard aside instead of finishing him.
It understood something critical now.
She was the real threat.
Their eyes locked.
Predator to predator.
“You’re the one Silva warned about,” it growled.
“… me?” she replied.
It crouched.
Muscles coiled.
Then—
Instead of charging her directly—
It rammed its shoulder through the outer wall.
CRASH.
Wood and brick burst outward.
Cold night air rushed in.
It turned once mid-escape, blood trailing down its side.
“You’re too late!”
Then it vanished into darkness.
The beast crashed through a wall and fled.
Ivaline didn’t chase.
She landed beside the crates.
Picked up a small pouch left behind.
White powder.
Later, the doctor examined it.
His face drained of color.
“…Madness Powder.”
Silence fell over the room.
If consumed—
Soldiers would lose reason.
Imagine the morning meal.
The soldier rose up
Turn on one another.
Fort collapses from within.
No siege required.
And Selvara had warned them.
When patrols returned to the chamber—
Selvara was gone.
Ropes cut.
Window broken.
Footprints of another beastkin.
Only her scent lingered faintly in the room.
Not fleeing in panic.
Not hurried.
Measured.
Controlled.
