The Binding Hand.

  They were not a kingdom, nor an army, nor a guild. They were the law—an organization that presided over all of Yilheim, their authority stretching across continents and seas.

  Every recruit began as a mere Foot Soldier. From there came the slow climb—Sergeant, Lieutenant, Captain, Commander, General, High General. Above them all stood the exalted title of Warbringer.

  A Warbringer was more than a soldier. They were a walking calamity, capable of halting entire wars single-handedly, their very presence shifting the fate of nations. To rise to that rank was the dream of every Binding Hand soldier. Yet there were only twenty-five Warbringers in the entire world.

  But even above them, higher still, were five untouchable figures. A rank reserved for only the chosen few.

  The Enforcers.

  They wielded power so vast it could not be measured in armies, nor weighed against nations. Each Enforcer commanded five Warbringers, and together they stood as the ultimate executors of law in Yilheim.

  And tonight, one of them was moving.

  The Bumble Fleet—a thousand ships strong, their hulls painted in white, blue, and black—cut across the sea in flawless formation. Twenty-five of those warships now surged toward Plunder Island, their engines roaring, their wakes blazing silver across the waves.

  On the deck of the flagship, Bumble stood. A soldier rushed to him, panic in his eyes.

  “Sir! Someone is calling you. But… we can’t trace the source.”

  Bumble didn’t turn. His blue coat trailed behind him, the words stitched across the back like judgment carved in stone:

  NONE

  IS

  ABOVE

  THE

  LAW.

  “Tell them I’m busy,” he said, voice flat.

  The soldier hesitated. “We can’t, sir.”

  Bumble’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  The soldier swallowed. “Because… she’s threatening to wipe us all out if we don’t turn back.”

  For the first time, Bumble moved. He took the massive communicator from the soldier and pressed it to his ear.

  A woman’s voice came through, sharp and cold.

  “What are you doing on my side of the world? This isn’t your jurisdiction. Turn back. Now.”

  Bumble smirked faintly. “No can do. I’ve got a job to finish. But don’t worry. As soon as I’m done, I’ll be gone. Answer me this—why did you even allow such a competition to take place on that island?”

  The voice was silent for a beat. Then she replied, bitterly.

  “I had no choice. The Kottors are involved.”

  Bumble froze. “…What?”

  “They’re on the island,” the voice continued. “Be careful, Bumble. You were not granted permission to face them. And if you do, without your Gymatrix, it will not end well for you.”

  The line cut off.

  Bumble lowered the communicator slowly, his jaw tightening. “Tch. I was planning to wipe the island clean… and those bastards are there?” He exhaled sharply, tilting his gaze toward the night sky. “Complications.”

  The fleet pressed forward, still ten thousand kilometers from Plunder Island, moving at the speed of sound.

  ---

  Meanwhile, within the stone-forged houses of Plunder Island, Valerius’s body reconstruction had ended after fifteen grueling minutes. He sat up, flexing his newly grown right hand, fingers trembling.

  “Damn… still hurts like a bitch.”

  He glanced at his severed arm on the floor, grimacing. “We should burn that.” Then he collapsed back onto the floor, exhaustion pressing down on him.

  Ziraiah stood by the door, watching him. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Valerius muttered. “Just tired.”

  She sighed, opening the door. “Well, I’m going. Good night.”

  Eryndor followed after her, sword in hand. “I shall take my leave as well.” The door shut, leaving Valerius alone.

  Moments later, his quiet snores filled the room.

  Knock. Knock.

  Valerius stirred, groggy. “Mmm… what?”

  The knocking persisted.

  “What is it? Who’s there?”

  A woman’s voice replied softly through the door.

  “Have you forgotten me already?”

  Valerius’s eyes snapped open. Instantly awake, he rushed to the door and flung it open.

  There she stood—the silver-haired woman he had clashed with earlier, her eyes calm, unreadable.

  Valerius’s expression hardened. “Who are you… really?”

  She smiled faintly. “Straight to the point huh. At least invite me in.”

  Valerius hesitated, jaw tight.

  She tilted her head, amusement curling at the edge of her voice.

  “If I wanted to hurt you, Valerius, I would have done it back when you were still crippled.”

  Valerius narrowed his eyes. “How did you…?”

  Her silver gaze gleamed. She smirked and leaned back casually.

  “Sentinel. Remember?”

  She didn’t wait for permission. She stepped past him and threw herself onto his bed, stretching out like she owned the place.

  Valerius exhaled sharply. “Yeah, yeah. Just let yourself in, why don’t you,” he said with biting sarcasm.

  Valerius raised a brow. “And lie on my bed too. Of course.”

  Ignoring him, she slipped off her high-heeled boots and folded into a perfect lotus position. Both feet rested neatly atop opposite thighs, her elbow on her knee, her hand propping her cheek. She regarded him with a faint, mischievous smile.

  “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell it was me.”

  Valerius shut the door behind her with a sigh.

  “I was sleeping.”

  She raised a brow, unfazed. “Soo?”

  Valerius narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean so? You expect me to know what’s happening while I’m asleep? Sentinel takes conscious effort, you know.”

  She leaned back, eyes drifting lazily toward the ceiling. “Knowing what’s happening while you’re sleeping… that’s exactly how Sentinel came to be, you know?”

  Before Valerius could speak, she laid herself across his bed like she owned it. “Let me tell you a short story. Long, long ago, there was a man who gained the most valuable treasure in existence. Everyone wanted it. At first, he was proud—happy even—that he alone possessed it. But soon, his life became agony. He never trusted anyone. Never let the treasure leave his side. He couldn’t even sleep, terrified someone would steal it away. Until one night, so sleep-deprived he couldn’t fight it anymore, he collapsed.”

  Her silver eyes slid toward Valerius. “While he slept, he had only one thought in his heart: his treasure. His will to protect it manifested outward. That obsession projected itself beyond dreams… and became what we now call Sentinel. Even in his sleep, he knew exactly where his treasure was.”

  Valerius thought grimly, Just perfect. A stranger waltzes into my room, makes herself comfortable, and now she’s telling bedtime stories.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The woman turned her head—then froze. Her gaze locked on the severed arm lying in the corner. She sat up abruptly. “What the—? My goodness, you’re a psycho. You collect body parts now?”

  Valerius raised his hands quickly. “No, no, don’t get the wrong idea—it’s not like that.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Wait… there’s remnants of Bravo in that arm.” She looked back at him, suspicion sharp. “That’s your Bravo.”

  “Because it was my arm,” Valerius said flatly.

  Her gaze dropped to the bloodstained floor, then back at his body. She saw both his arms intact… then glanced again at the severed one. Her expression darkened. “Something’s not adding up.”

  Valerius’s tone hardened. “Don’t pry into other people’s business.” He stepped forward, standing over her as she lounged on his bed. His shadow fell across her face. “Who are you—and what do you want from me?”

  For a long moment, they locked eyes. Then she smiled faintly, deflecting. “My eyes are better than yours.”

  Valerius smirked. “Don’t change the subject.”

  She ignored the jab and leaned forward. “Do you know how many races live in this world?”

  “I don’t give a shit,” Valerius shot back. “I asked you—”

  “Shut up and let me speak,” she cut in sharply.

  Valerius clenched his jaw. What the hell is her problem…

  “There are many races,” she continued, voice calm again. “But the common ones are the ones you’ve already seen—Elves, Dragoons, Aurellians. The Aurellians? They’re everywhere. Their population is the largest. Shorter lifespans, easy to reproduce. Weakest of the lot, yet somehow they think themselves superior to the other races. Elves hate Aurellians—because Aurellians like kidnapping them. Elves and Dragoons? They don’t exactly hate each other, more like… rivals. They argue, they fight, hell, they even have a yearly cooking competition over whose food is better. Always ends in a brawl. But when it comes to mocking the Pesterios?” She smirked. “They suddenly become best friends.”

  Valerius folded his arms. “Why are you telling me all this?”

  She shifted, sitting up on her knees looking down at him. “Because the people here aren’t so different from the world you came from.”

  Valerius’s eyes flickered. “…What did you just say?”

  Her gaze sharpened. “Yes. I know you’re from Earth.”

  She sank back down casually, smirk tugging at her lips. “I’ve met a few Earthers before. They all say the same things, so I’ve learned a lot about your world. Your society. Your language.”

  Then, suddenly, she switched tongues—her accent crisp and clean.

  “I too can speak English.”

  Valerius let out a short laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.” He paced once, hands on his hips, then looked back at her. “Fine. What happened to the others? The Earthers you met—where are they now?”

  “Some died. Some survived. If you really want to meet them, you’ll find them in human territory. That’s where Pungence stashed all the ones he could gather.”

  Valerius’s head snapped toward her. “Pungence? That name keeps coming up… who the hell is he really?”

  Her tone grew sharp, almost venomous. “Be careful of him. He’s our worst enemy.”

  Valerius arched a brow. “‘Our’? When did I become one of you?”

  She met his stare unflinching. “The moment you set foot on this island.”

  She leaned back, eyes gleaming with conviction.

  “This entire competition is run by the Unbound. And there are only a few I can think of who could orchestrate something on this scale.”

  Her voice dropped lower, almost reverent.

  “The Kottors.”

  Valerius’s brows knit. “Who are they?”

  Her lips curved faintly. “Very powerful people. The kind you don’t want to mess with. This world is filled with all kinds of things—things you’ve only imagined. Wonders, terrors, mysteries.” She lifted her chin, gaze burning with hunger. “And I want to see it all. To explore everything this world has to offer. From what I know of your world, it wasn’t very exciting, was it? But here?”

  Her hand gestured to the unseen horizon beyond the walls.

  “Here, you’ll experience things you never thought possible. You’ll clash with conquerors. You’ll carve your name into legend. Tell me, doesn’t that thrill you? Don’t you want to uncover the lost histories of this world—and feel the edge of life burning against your skin?”

  Her words struck something deep inside him. Valerius felt it stir—the same restless fire he’d tried to bury beneath anger and curses. Once, he had despised this world. But after the stories the giants told him… and now, hearing her voice, it was different. A pull he couldn’t deny.

  He spoke at last, his tone sharp, grounding himself. “You’ve said a lot, but you still haven’t told me anything important. Like who you really are—or how you know me.”

  She stood, stepping down from the bed. Straight-backed, unflinching, she met his gaze.

  “I’m Irisa. And you?”

  “Lerius,” he replied after a beat.

  She smirked faintly, as if she could see through the false name. Still, she turned toward the door.

  “Hey,” Valerius called, a touch of command in his voice. “I’m not done with you.”

  She paused, hand on the doorframe, and looked back with a glimmer in her eyes. “I’m not done with you either.”

  Her smile deepened.

  “You know, people say we were unlucky to be born late. That we missed the greatest era. I don’t believe that.” She tilted her head, silver hair catching the faint glow of the lantern. “Because I was lucky enough to be born in the generation when you arrived. So no—we didn’t miss the greatest era.”

  Her voice sharpened, cutting the air with certainty.

  “This will be the greatest era. And together…” she grinned, almost wickedly.

  “…we’ll bring madness to Yilheim.”

  Irisa opened the door and stepped out. “I’ll be seeing you, Lerius.”

  Valerius stood in the doorway, watching her walk into the night until she vanished from sight. He found himself smiling faintly. She knows too much. Far too much.

  Closing the door, he sat heavily on his bed, his mind restless. I need to claim those prizes and return… but who knows how long this training will last? And God, I want to see this world.

  Reaching into his spatial bag, he pulled out a small compass. Its needle spun faintly, trembling toward the unknown. He held it in his palm and whispered, “If only something would happen—so I wouldn’t have to go back just yet.”

  He closed the compass, set it aside, and lay back on the bed. Sleep pulled at him again, heavy and stubborn, while the weight of possibility churned inside.

  ---

  To Be Continued...