"Where'd he go?" The Lizardfolk Leader stood frozen, eyes wide with disbelief.

Then, a voice spoke casually from right behind him.

"Hey. Mind if I ask you something?"

"Wha—?!" He spun around, heart lurching in his chest.

Ethan was standing there, completely unharmed, not a scratch on him—like he'd never even been touched.

"Boys, get him!" the Lizardfolk Leader roared, snapping back into rage.

The others let out guttural screeches and charged forward in a frenzy.

But the moment they got close—everything stopped.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

One after another, their bodies exploded in mid-air. Blood mist sprayed through the trees, and shattered limbs hit the ground with sickening thuds.

In the blink of an eye, dozens of Lizardfolk were dead—slaughtered without even landing a hit.

The jungle fell silent again, eerily so.

"Wh-what the hell…" the Leader stammered, the only one left standing. His eyes were wide, his body trembling uncontrollably.

He'd felt it—just for a second. That overwhelming pressure. That impossible power. There was no resisting it.

"You… you wanted to ask something? Go ahead, ask…" he said quickly, his tone flipping from hostile to submissive in an instant.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. Damn, that was a fast switch.

"Is this your territory?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," the Leader nodded, trying to regain a shred of pride. "We're the dominant species in this region."

He puffed his chest slightly as he spoke, clearly trying to save face.

According to him, their kind was spread across hundreds of tribes throughout the jungle. The most powerful among them was ruled by the Lizard King, who commanded over 800,000 followers.

This guy? Just a minor branch leader.

"I see," Ethan nodded. So they're native to Xenorift.

"You ever heard of runes?" he asked.

"Runes?" The Lizardfolk Leader paused, thinking. "I've heard of them, yeah. But I can't use them. Only our Chieftain knows how."

"Then take me to your Chieftain."

"What?" The Leader blinked, stunned.

He wants to meet the Chieftain?

Their tribe wasn't the biggest, but it still had over ten thousand members. And this guy wanted to walk in alone?

But then again… maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

The Chieftain was an S+ level powerhouse, and the Elders weren't pushovers either. If anyone could handle this freak, it was them.

And once Ethan was in their hands, Kragg—the Leader—would be off the hook.

"Sure, I'll take you," he said, nodding like a bobblehead, hiding his scheming behind a forced smile.

He turned and started leading the way, Ethan following calmly behind.

They weren't far from the tribe's main settlement. After a short walk, Ethan began to sense a surge of life energy ahead.

At the base of a mountain, a cluster of crude huts came into view—low to the ground, made of woven grass and wood. Primitive, but functional.

Green-skinned figures moved about, tails swaying, some walking upright, others crawling on all fours, scaling trees and rocks with strange, lizard-like grace.

They lifted their heads, necks twitching as they let out a series of sharp clack-clack-clack sounds—some kind of signal.

Ethan could understand the meaning behind it: One of ours has returned.

Soon, a squad of Lizardfolk Guards appeared up ahead, blocking the path.

"Well, well, Kragg," the Guard Captain said with a smirk, eyeing Ethan behind him. "Brought back a catch, huh?"

Kragg's face twitched. He looked uncomfortable.

"This… this isn't prey," he said stiffly. "He's a guest. Wants to see the Chieftain."

"Oh?" The Captain dragged out the word, his expression turning skeptical.

Guest? Since when did they treat food like guests?

And Kragg—he was a Leader, sure, but he'd left with a whole squad. Now he was back alone, and all his men were gone.

Something about this didn't add up.

The Lizardfolk Guard Captain's yellow eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. Something had clearly clicked in his mind, but his face remained unreadable.

"Alright. Go on in," he said smoothly.

"Got it," Kragg replied, giving the Captain a quick nod—and a not-so-subtle series of winks and glances.

Of course, Ethan caught every twitch of that little exchange.

He just didn't care.

This tiny Lizardfolk tribe? No threat at all. If anything, they were walking, talking snacks.

Ethan followed Kragg deeper into the settlement, his footsteps quiet against the soft underbrush.

Behind them, the Guard Captain remained still, eyes locked on Ethan's back, the malice in his gaze intensifying.

One of the younger guards stepped up beside him, curiosity written all over his face. "Captain, what's going on?"

"Kragg's been taken hostage by that guy in the white shirt," the Captain said under his breath. "Go alert the others. Tell everyone to gather at the Chieftain's hut. We're going to war."

"For real?" the younger one blinked, clearly surprised.

"Just do it! Trust me!" the Captain snapped.

"...Got it!"

Within moments, the Lizardfolk began lifting their heads, throats vibrating as they let out a series of strange, rhythmic calls—like a chorus of rattlesnakes harmonizing.

The signal spread fast.

All across the tribe, warriors dropped what they were doing. Their eyes lit up with bloodlust as they began to converge on the center of the village.

Even the Elders—those rare, high-tier fighters—were stirring.

The whole tribe was on edge.

But Ethan? He just kept walking, calm as ever. The only sound around him was the soft rustle of grass beneath his boots.

As they reached the heart of the village, more Lizardfolk appeared—tall, muscular, and twitching with tension.

Some clung to tree trunks, climbing up and down with eerie agility. Others crouched on all fours, perched on branches or rocks, their movements animalistic and unsettling.

They all stared at Ethan with narrowed, yellow eyes, baring their fangs in silent hostility.

Ethan glanced around, unfazed.

He'd flown here from Southvale, passing through the Exile Zone on the way. Judging by the distance, this tribe was already brushing up against the edges of human civilization.

Which meant they weren't even in Xenorift's core territory.

These guys are bottom-feeders, Ethan thought. They can't even handle parasitic monsters or Carrion Reavers. Just jungle scavengers.

At the center of the village stood a massive, ancient tree. Beneath it was a large wooden hut, its roof thatched with leaves and vines—primitive, almost tribal.

To human eyes, this place would look like something out of a horror story—like a cannibal village lost in the jungle.

"We're here. That's the Chieftain's place," Kragg said, gesturing toward the hut.

Ethan stared at it silently.

Inside, the Lizardfolk Chieftain had already sensed the outsider's presence. A faint psychic pressure drifted from the hut, brushing against Ethan's mind—probing, testing.

But to Ethan, it was like a breeze brushing past a mountain.

Then, the door creaked open.

An old, withered Lizardfolk stepped out, leaning heavily on a gnarled staff. Mounted at the top of the staff were three human skulls, bleached white and cracked with age.

"Kragg," the Chieftain rasped, voice sharp and scolding. "You're getting more useless by the day. I told you to ambush the human, not bring him to my doorstep."

"Ah—Chieftain, I tried! I really did! But I had no choice!" Kragg stammered, clearly embarrassed.

The Chieftain turned his gaze to Ethan, eyes narrowing. That faint psychic pressure intensified, slithering into Ethan's mind like a snake, trying to wrap around his thoughts.

His pupils shrank to pinpricks as he activated a mental illusion spell—an advanced psychic technique meant to knock out weaker minds like a dose of chloroform.

If Ethan had been an ordinary human, he'd already be unconscious on the ground.

But Ethan didn't even blink.

Guess it's time to remind them who they're dealing with.

He didn't bother hiding anymore. A sliver of his true aura—just a taste of the Zombie King's pressure—rippled outward.

It hit like a bullet through glass.

The Chieftain's psychic probe shattered instantly.

"AAAHHH—!"

The old Lizardfolk screamed, clutching his head as searing pain exploded in his skull. He stumbled backward, nearly falling, his legs buckling under the weight of Ethan's presence.

...

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