Inside the wrecked dining hall, the air vibrated with the sound of steel clashing against steel.

  CLANG! CLANG!

  Jory was a whirlwind of discipline and power. He gripped his naginata with both hands and drove the butt end into Inmate 39’s stomach.

  OOF!

  The assassin doubled over. Jory didn't hesitate. He spun the weapon and brought the blade down in a heavy, glowing arc. The Imprint of Strength on his arm flared with blue light as he channelled his Grace.

  "You are slow!" Jory shouted.

  He slashed Inmate 39 across the chest. The assassin stumbled back and crashed into a serving cart. Silverware rained down on him.

  Inmate 39 wiped a streak of blood from his chest. He didn't look in pain; he looked bored. He spat a tooth onto the floor.

  "Is that it?" Inmate 39 asked. "You hit hard for a guard dog. But you lack instinct."

  He stood up and cracked his neck.

  "Do you know why they locked me in the Abyssal Hold? I wasn't always a killer. I was a sailor. A damn good one."

  He began to circle Jory. His eyes glazed over with a distant, violent memory.

  "I loved the sea. I loved the battle against the beasts. But the blood... it called to me. My crew started to fear me. Even my captain slept with one eye open. We went on a fishing trip beyond the reef, and the bloodlust took hold. I argued with the captain. I told him he was weak."

  Inmate 39 stopped. A cruel smile spread across his face.

  "So I killed him. I killed them all. I painted the deck red because they were too damn weak to be my companions in the dangerous sea. I tried to flee beyond the Weather Veil, but the storms turned me back. That’s when they caught me."

  He reached into his tunic and touched a tattoo over his heart.

  "They banned the Berserker Imprint years ago. Do you know why? Because it turns men into beasts. It grants ten times the power and agility, but it eats your mind. It strips away intelligence until only the kill remains."

  THUMP-THUMP.

  His heart beat so loud it echoed in the room.

  "But right now. I don't need to think. I just need to kill."

  WHOOSH!

  Dark red light erupted from his body. His muscles swelled and tore his shirt. His eyes lost their pupils and turned entirely white.

  "GRAAAAH!" he screamed.

  Jory braced himself. "Come on then!"

  Inmate 39 vanished.

  SLASH!

  Jory didn't even see the movement. A deep gash opened on his thigh.

  "Gah!"

  Jory swung his spear, but he hit empty air. Inmate 39 was already behind him.

  SLASH! SLASH!

  Two more cuts appeared on Jory’s back. Blood sprayed the walls. The Berserker Imprint placed immense pressure on the user’s body, tearing their own muscles to achieve impossible speed, but Inmate 39 revelled in the agony.

  "More! More!" Inmate 39 howled.

  He grabbed Jory’s spear shaft and snapped it like a twig. He drove his fist into Jory’s face.

  CRUNCH!

  Jory flew backward. He was heavily wounded, barely clinging to consciousness, but the beast wasn't done playing.

  ...

  In the backyard, chaos reigned.

  WHIRRRRR!

  The Crimson Marionette spun with lethal grace. Inmate 47 danced through the garden and flicked her wrist to send razor-sharp threads slicing through the environment.

  SNAP!

  A stone column sheared in half and collapsed.

  CRASH!

  Wooden crates exploded into splinters.

  Barov Earl Karsteen grabbed Kenta and pulled him out of the path of a falling statue. The two guards flanked him; they batted away threads with their spears, but they were losing ground.

  "Hop, little rabbits! Hop!" Inmate 47 laughed manically. "I love it when you squirm! Soon I will catch you, and then I will peel you!"

  She launched a complex web of steel wires. Barov dove and rolled across the grass.

  "Who set you free?" Barov shouted as he scrambled to his feet. "Who opened the Abyssal Hold?"

  Inmate 47 tilted her head. "Just an old geezer with a..."

  "SILENCE!"

  A voice like grinding boulders interrupted her.

  Inmate 47 gasped. She clutched her chest and dropped to her knees.

  "Guh... ah..."

  Pain, white-hot and absolute, radiated from her heart. A restrictive spell.

  She turned her head and glared at the invisible barrier.

  Just outside the shimmering wall stood a figure cloaked in shadow. He held a wooden staff topped with a crystalline orb. He wore a mask, but a long, white beard spilled out from beneath it.

  "Another one showed up?" Lil Sinbad peeked out from behind his hiding spot.

  "Tsk... geezer..." Inmate 47 spat blood.

  "Why hasn't the target been captured yet? Instead, you are here wasting time chattering! Need I remind you this formation won't hold long? I have done my best to isolate this place from the outside and give you the opportunity you needed. If it collapses before then, those Priests might be alerted and come rushing over! I am warning you, get this over with at once!"

  The figure slammed his staff down. The pain in Inmate 47’s chest vanished. She gasped and stood up, glaring daggers at her master.

  Inside the barrier, the guards tightened their formation around Barov.

  Barov stared at the cloaked man’s beard.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  'That beard. There is no mistaking it. He can try to hide behind a mask and a cloak of darkness, but this island is small. There aren't many outsiders.'

  Barov’s eyes narrowed.

  'So this is all your doing, Elder Mako. No wonder you didn't show up at the meeting. You had this planned instead. You released monsters to capture me. To what end? To stop the portal?'

  Rage bubbled up in Barov’s chest.

  "Your little schemes have cost the lives of some good men! I won't tolerate this insult any longer!"

  He ripped off his ruined green suit jacket and tossed it aside. He began to roll up the sleeves of his white shirt.

  The cloaked man saw the movement and panicked. He yelled at Inmate 47.

  "Stop him! Stop him right now! If he succeeds in activating his Imprint, you won't be a match for him!"

  Inmate 47 cursed inwardly. She hated that old man. He remained safe outside while she did all the dirty work. But she had no choice.

  She channelled Grace into her weapon. The steel balls hummed with renewed speed.

  BOOM!

  Before she could strike, the dining hall wall exploded outward.

  Debris and dust blasted into the garden. Jory flew out of the hole, covered in blood. He crashed onto the lawn and didn't move.

  "Jory!" Barov cried out.

  The two guards rushed to help their fallen comrade, but Barov saw the shadow in the dust.

  "Wait! Don't—"

  It was too late.

  Inmate 39 burst through the cloud. He tackled one of the guards.

  SLAM!

  He drove the guard’s face into the pavement. He grabbed the back of the guard’s head and rubbed it against the stone like a cheese grater.

  GRIND!

  "AAAGH!"

  If not for his helmet, the guard’s face would have been erased.

  "Jory!" Kenta screamed. He ran toward the fallen captain. Lil Sinbad and Kelise followed close behind to cover him.

  Inmate 39 stood up and flexed his blood-soaked muscles. The red aura of the Berserker Imprint pulsed around him.

  "A mere guard lasted longer than I thought," he growled.

  He turned and saw the children. His eyes locked onto Lil Sinbad.

  "You..." Inmate 39 pointed a finger. "The brat who hit me with a stick."

  He took a step forward, raising a fist to crush the boy.

  "Ignore the brats!" The cloaked man shouted from outside the barrier. His voice was hoarse with urgency. "Capture the Governor! Stick to the plan!"

  Inmate 39 stopped. He glared outside the barrier. 'That geezer came as well?'

  While Inmate 39 was distracted, Inmate 47 seized her chance. She shoulder-checked the large man aside.

  "Move, you oaf!"

  She dashed toward Barov. The spinning balls of her Crimson Marionette whirred like buzzsaws.

  "Got you!"

  The last standing guard threw himself in front of Barov. He blocked the wires with his shield.

  "I've already figured out your trick!" the guard shouted. "You're useless without that weapon!"

  He dashed in close, ignoring the cuts that opened on his arms. He swung his shield edge and knocked the device from her hand. He then tackled her to the ground and raised his spear to stab her.

  "Die, witch!"

  WHAM!

  Inmate 39 appeared out of nowhere. He punched the guard in the head. The armor caved in, and the guard flew across the garden.

  Inmate 47 scrambled up and dusted off her skirt. She glared at her savior.

  "I didn't need your help! I could have handled it myself!"

  "Shut up," Inmate 39 growled.

  While the two criminals bickered, the air behind them began to tremble.

  HUMMMMMM.

  A massive surge of pressure washed over the garden. Green and yellow energies swirled violently around Barov.

  The markings on his arms glowed with blinding intensity.

  "Prepare yourselves." Barov spoke with animalistic power.

  RIP!

  His white shirt burst apart at the seams. His biceps swelled to the size of melons. His chest broadened and thickened with layers of dense muscle. His short yellow hair grew rapidly, cascading down his back and framing his face like a majestic mane.

  His physical stats skyrocketed. He wasn't just a man anymore; he was a king of the jungle in human form.

  Barov glared at the inmates with eyes that slit vertically.

  "Get ready for a beating like none other!"

  Lil Sinbad stared, his jaw hanging open.

  "Whoa... the Governor turned into a beast!"

  The cloaked figure stood outside the boundary while sweat pooled beneath his mask. He gripped his staff until the wood groaned because he recognized the manifestation of the Sea Lion Imprint.

  It was a one-of-a-kind seal, a masterpiece of ancestral magic that few on the island even remembered. In application, it mirrored the savage Berserker Imprint, yet it remained a far superior construct. Unlike the frantic, mindless rage of the Berserker, the Sea Lion allowed its user to retain full sanity and tactical clarity.

  Furthermore, the imprint was a miracle of efficiency. It utilized far less Grace than common combat seals, yet it yielded unparalleled physical power. Most combatants burned through their internal reserves within minutes, but Barov’s affinity for Grace was naturally high. He possessed a vast storage capacity that turned him into a long-distance predator.

  Inmate 39 had already depleted sixty-nine percent of his own reserves in his frantic assault, and Inmate 47 was functionally useless without her primary weapon.

  The cloaked figure became visibly annoyed as he stomped his staff against the dirt. "You fools! I told you to capture him quickly! Now that he has activated his Sea Lion Imprint, you are no match for him. This mission is a failure!"

  Inmate 39 cracked his knuckles and glared at the transformed Governor. "What is that old man blabbering about? All I have to do is capture him. So what if you are a little buff, Governor? Can you take a punch from a real beast?"

  Inmate 39 lunged forward and tossed a heavy punch. The sheer air pressure of the strike blasted Lil Sinbad’s crew backward, though the attack was not even aimed at them. The children tumbled over the ground while the wind whipped their hair.

  However, Barov did not flinch. He reached out with a massive hand and easily caught the punch in his palm.

  BOOM!

  The impact sounded like a hammer hitting a stone wall, yet Barov’s arm did not move an inch. He twisted Inmate 39’s arm out of alignment with a sickening crunch of bone and then forced the assassin to his knees. The stones beneath Inmate 39’s weight shattered and sprayed grit into the air.

  "Impossible," Inmate 39 wheezed. His eyes bulged with pain. "How can you be this strong? Aren't you just a pencil pusher?"

  Barov looked down at him with eyes that slit vertically like those of a jungle cat. "I spent my youth as a sailor under the tutelage of the Logwaters. I learned how to weather storms and haul nets that would break your spine."

  The Governor leaned in closer, and his voice took on a predatory rumble. "And now that I see your face clearly, I recognize you. You are Farlow Igram. You are the crazy man who lost his marbles and killed his own captain and crew for sport. You should have stayed in the dark where you belong."

  Swish! Swish!

  Suddenly, several razor-thin steel webs wrapped around Barov’s torso. Inmate 47 had managed to recover a spool of her wire and launched a desperate sneak attack.

  She pulled the threads taut and smirked because she believed she had finally snared her prize. She stepped forward and even had the audacity to touch Barov’s bulging bicep.

  "The geezer didn't need to be so worried," she remarked with a trill of laughter. "The mission is accomplished. You have quite the physique for a Governor, Barov. It’s almost a shame I have to truss you up like a pig for slaughter."

  From the side, Lil Sinbad watched the scene with a sinking heart. "Even the Governor lost to those two after powering up?"

  "Fools! Get out of there now!" the cloaked man yelled from the safety of the barrier's exterior.

  "Huh?" Inmate 47 blinked.

  Before she could react, Barov’s muscles expanded and burst the crimson webs as if they were made of silk. He grabbed her head with his huge, warm palm and tossed her across the yard.

  “Kiok!”

  She screamed until she crashed into a concrete wall and slumped into a heap of skirt and stockings.

  Barov did not stop his momentum. He drove his knee into Farlow’s face, and the force sent the man flying through the air.

  Before Farlow could even impact the ground, Barov appeared behind him in a blur of gold and green. He slammed the assassin into the pavement with a thunderous impact that echoed through the entire estate.

  “Cough! Cough!”

  Farlow tried to rise, but Barov grabbed his head and slammed it back down into the stone. He delivered a flurry of heavy blows that broke the assassin's guard and shattered his ribs. Each strike was calculated and devastating. Finally, Barov gripped Farlow by the waist and swung him like a club. He hurled the broken assassin directly at the cloaked figure.

  CRASH!

  Farlow’s body struck the invisible wall with the force of a siege engine. The formation could not withstand the physical mass of a Berserker fueled by Barov’s momentum, and so the barrier shattered on impact. Glassy shards of magic dissolved into the night air.

  Barov stood tall amidst the debris. His mane flowed in the wind, and he glared at the masked man.

  "It is your turn now. It is time for your concealment to be revealed."

  Dozens of guards alerted by the commotion rushed into the backyard. They took up positions beside their Governor and leveled their spears at the intruder.

  The cloaked figure perceived the threat of the incoming guards and the overwhelming power of the Sea Lion. He knew their mission had failed.

  "Damn those useless prisoners. And you, Governor. This is not over."

  He stamped his staff against the earth, and a brilliant sphere of light formed around Inmate 39 and Inmate 47.

  "Think you can escape?" Barov was about to launch himself forward when he heard a chorus of high-pitched screams from the shadows.

  “Gah! What is this?”

  “We’re floating.”

  A sphere of light had also formed around Lil Sinbad, Kenta, and Kelise. The three children floated off the ground and clawed at the glowing walls of their cage.

  The cloaked man levitated into the air and held his staff high. "Do not follow us, Governor! If you take one step beyond these grounds, I will dispose of these brats before they even hit the ground!"

  He did not wait for an answer. He flew away into the night sky, and the captives drifted behind him like macabre balloons.

  The guards gripped their spears and prepared to give chase. "Governor! We can still catch them! Give the order!"

  "No!" Barov raised his hand to stop them. "Do not chase him! As long as we stay back, the children will remain safe. He wants me, not them. They are his insurance."

  One of the guards looked at the retreating lights with suspicion. "How can you be so certain, Governor? Do you know who that masked man was?"

  Barov stood in the center of his ruined grounds. His beastly form began to recede, and his muscles shrank back to their human proportions. He did not reveal the identity of the masked man to his men, but his jaw remained set in a hard line.

  "I have a hunch," Barov said quietly. He looked toward the distance where the enemy had fled. "I have a very bad hunch."