The tavern looked nearly abandoned when they stepped inside. The air was stale, thick with dust and the ghost of old smoke. A few tables leaned against the walls, their surfaces scarred with knife marks and rings of spilled ale.

  “Oh good, they’re closed,” Valerik muttered, his voice flat as stone.

  Angel gave him a look, tired and sharp all at once. She didn’t bother with words. Instead, she scanned the walls until her eyes landed on a narrow closet door at the back. She pushed it open without hesitation, revealing a staircase that curled into the dark.

  Valerik arched a brow. “Convenient.”

  But Angel was already moving, boots clunking on the wood steps.

  The deeper they went, the louder the sounds became. First a distant thrum, then music, laughter, the clatter of mugs. Then the roars, cheers, shouts, curses. And beneath it all, the unmistakable crack of fists colliding with flesh.

  The staircase opened into a cavernous chamber carved into the stone beneath the tavern. Smoke and heat hung thick in the air. Tables and booths pressed close around the edges, packed with gamblers and drinkers. In the center rose an iron cage, broad and brutal, its bars blackened from years of use.

  Dante froze at the threshold, eyes wide. The crowd’s noise poured over him like a tide. He took a step back, blinking rapidly.

  “You okay?” Kaiya asked, her voice low with concern.

  “Yeah. Just… too many lights.” He rubbed his forehead, squinting until the shapes resolved again. The room wasn’t even that bright. The only steady glow came from lanterns above the bar and the cage itself, their firelight spilling unevenly across sweaty faces and mugs of ale.

  Kaiya frowned, glancing around. To her, the room looked dim. “You’re sure?”

  He gave a faint nod, though his expression stayed unsettled.

  The roar of the crowd pulled their eyes to the cage. Inside stood a woman unlike any they had seen. Her body was thick with muscle, her arms roped with strength. Horns curled forward through the short braids of her brown hair. Her skin, pale peach, was mottled with patches of vivid orange, like paint splattered across her in permanent strokes.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  A burly man twice her size staggered toward her. She caught him with ease, gripping his belt and collar, and hurled him into the bars. Metal groaned under the force, bowing outward until it nearly crushed a table of startled patrons. Then the cage snapped back, flinging the man to the floor like a rag doll.

  The chamber thundered with one chant. “Koi! Koi! Koi!”

  The horned woman raised her arms, pacing the perimeter of the cage. The crowd surged with her energy. Then she turned, revealing a long, slender tail curling behind her, patterned in the same mottled orange as her skin. She flicked it toward her opponent in mocking invitation.

  The man dragged himself upright, rage tightening his jaw. “You demon bitch.”

  Koi grinned, teeth flashing. “Yes. Talk dirty for me.” Her tone twisted from mocking to predatory.

  He lunged, fist swinging with enough weight to topple a wall. She slipped aside, seized his wrist, and yanked him closer. Her knee slammed into his ribs, the impact echoing like a drumbeat. Before he could breathe, she released his arm and drove a fist across his face. His head snapped sideways, blood spraying.

  She followed with a relentless barrage, fists moving faster than the eye could track. Each blow added momentum, driving him back step by step until his body collided with the opposite bars. He crumpled, sliding to the dirt floor.

  The crowd hushed, waiting. The man groaned faintly, but his body refused to rise.

  A bell clanged overhead.

  The silence shattered. The chamber erupted into noise, coins changing hands, mugs slamming together, cheers and jeers blending into one storm of sound.

  Koi prowled the cage, arms lifted high, feeding off the roar. She left the cage and strut towards the bar.

  In the corner of the chamber, the group slipped into a less crowded alcove. Valerik kept his back to the wall, scanning. Angel rested her hands on the table, eyes flicking from one patron to the next. Kaiya stayed half-hidden in her cloak, her gaze still drawn back to Dante, who hadn’t stopped rubbing his eyes.

  They moved toward the betting booths, a long counter where men with ledger books jotted wagers while collectors in leather vests exchanged coin for slips of parchment. The smell of sweat and alcohol was thickest here.

  Angel slipped the gemstones onto the counter, her hand steady despite the tremor in her chest.

  The man behind the booth inspected them with greedy eyes. “Half value,” he said at once, no hesitation. “That’s all I’ll offer.”

  Valerik’s mouth twitched in irritation, but Angel didn’t argue. “Done.”

  The man pushed two leather sacks across the counter, each heavy with coin. The straps bit into her fingers as she lifted them, far more awkward to carry than the gems had ever been. The man, already disinterested, flipped the emerald onto his betting pile and shouted for two more wagers on Koi’s next bout.

  Angel’s jaw tightened. To him, survival meant nothing. It was just another game to gamble away.

  The group retreated to their corner, splitting the coin quickly and quietly. Gold gleamed under the dim lantern light, heavy with promise.

  Then a crash split the air.

  Their table lurched sideways as something massive knocked into it. Mugs toppled, ale spilling across the floor.

  Xander had grown. The shrinking spell unraveled in an instant, his bulk expanding until he shoved into the nearest tables. Chairs splintered. Patrons tumbled back with curses.

  The chamber fell into a sudden, dangerous silence.

  The tavern owner stormed into the center of the room, face red, spit flying as he pointed at the wreckage. Tables splintered. Ale poured across the floor. Xander loomed awkwardly in the middle of it all, his bulk filling too much space, horns scraping the ceiling beams.

  “You think this is a barn?” the owner barked. “You bring your monster in here and ruin my hall? You’ll pay for it.”

  Valerik folded his arms. “We already did. With gems.”

  “Not enough.” The man’s voice sharpened. His eyes darted between the group, measuring which one he could press. They settled on Angel. “You. In the cage. That covers it.”

  Angel’s jaw tightened. Her fists closed halfway, then opened again. She wanted to argue, but the crowd was already roaring approval, stamping feet against the stone.

  “Fine,” she muttered. “Let’s get it over with.”

  The man looked towards the bar and yelled. “Koi, you're in!”

  ?a”€a?±à?oa€ˉa? ???a€ˉà??a?°a”€?

  Life isn’t some kind of grand destiny.

  It’s just a collection of decisions shaped by the moments that happen around us.

  Of Moon and Magic follows a silver-haired girl. Her mana was weak, but that never dulled her hunger for magic.

  We follow her steps. We weigh her choices. We sit with her loneliness. In a world where magic is everything, war is constant, and morality is little more than a neglected guideline.

  Will she become just another cog in the machine?

  Or will she be the one to end it all?

  Only one way to find out.

  Point of Interest:

  Update Schedule

  ?a”€a?±à?oa€ˉa? ???a€ˉà??a?°a”€?