The Ironfang Clan territory sprawled across the northern fringes of the Wild Beast Zone within the Eldoria Empire, a brutal stretch of land where tigerkin bloodlines dominated at this ancient realm's edge—not that they were aware of this realm's name to begin with.

Except for the Higher ones within inner zones, for everyone else, this was their world, with no knowledge that any outside world even existed except the brutal rule of the jungle and a well-established feudal system designed to give opportunity to rise to those at the bottom of the hierarchy.

Massive stone huts etched with snarling tiger faces dotted the rugged paths, every wall scarred with the clan's mark—jagged stripes slashed like fresh wounds, oozing a deep, bloody hue.

The thick air hung heavy with the stink of musk, fresh kills, and that raw edge of unchallenged power that made your fur stand on end.

A scrawny male tigerkin staggered through the jammed marketplace, his orange fur matted with sweat that stung his eyes.

He'd scraped his way to the middle Bronze Body realm—strong enough to shatter boulders with a punch back in his small tribe which was destroyed by monsters, but now, in this hellhole? It meant jack shit.

"Quit squirming, you pathetic runt!"

A huge paw latched onto his neck like a vice, hoisting him up until his toes dangled.

The tigress towering over him was a beast, pushing seven feet with muscles rippling under her striped hide, her power humming at the peak Silver Body Realm.

Three whole sub-realms ahead, like comparing a kitten to a storm.

Her golden eyes narrowed with pure annoyance as she tightened her grip, his windpipe crushing under the pressure, black spots dancing in his vision.

"Gah—mercy—" he gasped, his claws scraping harmlessly against her unyielding arm, drawing tiny beads of blood that she didn't even notice.

She ignored his pleas, hauling him along like a sack of trash.

His heels dragged over the uneven stones, kicking up dust that choked him further as they cut through the bustling street.

Other tigresses shot lazy glances but kept moving—nothing new here.

In the Ironfang Clan, males were just tools, meant to stay low and shut up.

The only use for males was to be strong enough to breed a strong heir so that a tigress could rise in rank and leave this shithole town in the countryside made to keep them stuck here forever as meat shields after being banished from the main clan.

The slave auction loomed ahead, and ice shot through his veins.

Rickety wooden stages crammed the open square, each one showcasing chained-up male tigerkin, stripped down to nothing but their shame.

Heavy iron collars dug into their necks, chains clinking with every nervous shift as buyers prowled around.

A bloated merchant tigress bellowed out bids, jabbing a finger into one guy's ribs, making him flinch.

"Prime muscle! Perfect for stud duty! Fifteen gold claws, no haggling!"

But his gaze locked on the central platform, where his guts twisted into knots.

A colossal tigress—three hundred pounds of solid bulk, fat layered over iron-hard muscle—straddled a helpless male slave.

His legs were yanked apart, ankles locked in her beefy fists like they were reins on a wild mount.

She leveraged them hard, pounding down with her full weight on his twisted dick strained in her pussy, the impact shaking the wood beneath them.

"AHHH! IT'S RIPPING MY THING APART! STOP—PLEASE, STOP!" The male's howls pierced the air, raw and desperate, echoing off the surrounding huts.

The tigress arched back, sweat pouring down her striped flanks, soaking into the fur. "Quiet down and give it up, you breeding toy! Your dick better hold—ungh—together!"

She ramped up the pace, her thick thighs smacking against his hips with wet, brutal slaps that left bruises blooming instantly.

The guy's face contorted in pure torment, tears mixing with snot as his shaft got pulverized inside her vise-like grip, her inner walls squeezing like they meant to crush bone.

"Close—fuck, so close—" she snarled, her rhythm turning frantic. Her claws pierced his ankles deeper, blood trickling down in warm rivulets.

Then she exploded.

"RRAAARGH!"

Her whole frame shuddered violently, her core clamping down with bone-shattering force.

In the throes, she wrenched back too hard, and with a gruesome, slick CRACK—

His cock tore clean off.

"GYAAAHHH!" His scream was something feral, a gut-wrenching wail as blood sprayed from the ragged stump, splattering across the platform in sticky arcs.

The severed length stayed buried in her depths for a heartbeat before she rose, letting it slop out with a disgusting squelch, hitting the blood-soaked wood below.

She got up slowly, chest heaving, snatching a ragged cloth from the side to wipe the mess between her legs like it was nothing.

"ARRRGH... KHURHHGG!" The male thrashed on the stage, clutching at his ruined groin, his cries turning to broken sobs.

"Damn. Weak as hell. Didn't even make it through a decent fuck." She snorted, wrapping the cloth around her wide hips. "Hey, trader!"

A wiry tigress slunk over, eyes flicking to the mess without a shred of pity. "What can I do, Mistress Klara?"

"This trash is done. No good anymore." Klara flipped a coin pouch her way. "Dump him. Bring me something sturdier—needs to last longer than five minutes."

"Right away." The trader pocketed the gold, waving over a couple of grunts to haul the wailing wreck off, his blood trail smearing the steps.

The dragged tigerkin soaked it all in, his limbs turning to jelly. The tigress gripping him let out a guttural rumble.

"See that shit? That's the fate of failures." She jerked him nose-to-nose, her hot breath reeking of meat. "But you? You're lucky to fall in my hands, I am not that cruel. Let's head for the real fun."

They pushed past the market, weaving toward the clan's western border.

A colossal arena rose up ahead, its weathered stone walls towering five levels, vibrations from inside rumbling through the dirt like distant thunder.

The Crimson Pit—no, wait, the Blood Roar Coliseum—it was confusing due to being illegally present here for the fun of rundown banished tigerkin.

His knees buckled, but she just yanked harder, his fur scraping raw against the rough entry slope. Guard tigresses at the gates gave a nod, letting them through without a word. The roar inside hit like a wall, pounding his ears.

She hurled him into the pit. He rolled across gritty sand mixed with old bloodstains, coughing as he staggered up.

Thousands of tigress spectators packed the tiered seats, their howls shaking the air, banners flapping wildly in the wind. The stench of excitement and bloodlust was suffocating.

"FIGHT LIKE ANIMALS, YOU SCUM!"

"CLAW THEIR GUTS OUT!"

"WINNER GETS TO HAVE HIS DICK EATEN BY ME ALL NIGHT!"

He scanned the arena. Twenty other males dotted the floor—some burly tigerkin flexing, eyes locked on prey; wolfkin with hackles raised, lips curled; a handful like him, shaking, piss nearly leaking down their legs.

The tigress loomed over the pit's rim, her voice booming.

"Simple rules, meat sacks—battle! Last bastard breathing wins the prize: auctioned to the highest bidder!" She grinned, fangs gleaming. "We all promise to fuck the winner raw till his dick snaps, but at least you'll go out with a bang, eh?"

"HAHAHAHA—FUFUFU, INDEED!" The crowd's laughter rolled like thunder.

A deep gong echoed.

The tough ones lunged instantly. A hulking tigerkin smashed his fist into a wolfkin's face—crunch, teeth flying in a spray of red. Another grabbed a head and wrenched—SNAP—neck folding like a twig.

The scared tigerkin stood frozen, carnage exploding around him. A corpse sailed by, eyes blank, throat torn open.

"SHRED 'EM!"

"BLOOD! GIVE US MORE!"

"CRUSH THEIR SKULLS, USELESS PRICKS!"

The tigresses in the stands went wild, some slipping hands under their wraps, rubbing themselves as the slaughter heated up.

This wasn't a show—it was a goddamn aphrodisiac for tigerkin thrown in this place to act as guards.

A wolfkin barreled at him, jaws wide. Panic surged; he dodged left, claws raking air where his belly had been.

The wolfkin tripped, and a tigerkin pounced from behind, choking him out with a savage hold, veins bulging in his arms.

The trembling male backed into the wall, heart hammering. Only twelve left now, bodies strewn like garbage, sand turning to sticky red sludge.

The crowd chanted, feverish.

"KILL! KILL! KILL!"

The trembling male's claws scraped against the rough stone wall behind him, blood-soaked sand clinging to his legs.

"WOOH! YEAH FUCK! YES.. OH, UMHH!!"

The crowd's roar pounded through his skull like war drums, with his vision seeing some of their fingers plunging into their cunts knuckle-deep, mashing bare breasts with frenzy as if aroused by seeing murders.

While standing in the arena with his trembling body, the only thought that crossed his mind was,

'Urgh... these dirty filthy women—'

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