The Quest Is Simply To NTR All The Heroes

All the other cat soldiers, looking like they'd just stepped out of a medieval cosplay convention, started thrusting their spears with all the grace of drunken porcupines.

Kaisen, being the extra show-off he was, decided to throw in a completely unnecessary somersault just for the hell of it.

He wasn't just dodging attacks—he was auditioning for the "Sexiest Warrior Alive" calendar.

Why? Because when you're a badass, you gotta remind everyone, especially that one hot mom in the crowd. Mid-flip, he flashed a wink at Rodalina, who was either thoroughly impressed or just wondering if he had a twitch.

Her daughter, Ronali, blinked twice, trying to figure out if the wink was for her or her mom.

Rony, on the other hand, was torn between clapping for the acrobatics and focusing on the blood-pumping action in front of him.

The first spear swipe came for his leg, but Kaisen, being the nimble badass he was, jumped forward like a cat avoiding a bath.

Another spear came slicing down from above, and Kaisen ducked under it so smoothly that the cat soldier wielding it nearly dropped his jaw along with his weapon.

Kaisen wasn't there to fight these furballs; he was there to put on a show.

He wanted to flex his skills for something bigger, something he was sure these cats would need his help with later—because nothing says "reliable ally" like a guy who can dodge spears while winking.

Slashes came at him from every angle, but Kaisen just danced around them like he was at a rave, not a fight.

Then, just to up the ante, four spears came at him from all directions.

He jumped into the air, dodging them like he had springs in his boots. But those soldiers were ready, thrusting their spears upward in a coordinated attack, aiming to skewer the show-off mid-jump.

Kaisen smirked, his face radiating pure, unfiltered arrogance.

In a move that made the laws of physics throw up their hands in defeat, he twisted his body mid-air, casually reaching out to tap the shaft of a spear, using it as a springboard to propel himself away.

It was like watching someone play an extreme version of "the floor is lava," except instead of lava, it was a bunch of pissed-off cat warriors. And let's be real—he wasn't just dodging spears, he was showing off his superiority.

His speed made the spears look like they were moving in slow motion, and the cat warriors might as well have been fighting a gust of wind.

"What the actual fuck is going on here?"

Elder Lenon groaned, clutching his head like he was on the verge of a migraine. A stupid human was playing his best warriors like they were nothing more than a joke.

It wasn't just him, though. Every Elder in the vicinity, along with Luke and the rest of the squad, looked like they'd just seen a unicorn tap-dancing in a tutu.

This wasn't just improbable—it was outright impossible. Unless…

"Enough!"

Elder Nora snapped, standing up with the kind of authority that could make even the cockiest warrior freeze.

The cat warriors, who were practically airborne at this point, stopped mid-swing like someone had hit pause on their DVD player.

More than sixteen spears were now locked onto Kaisen—or at least where he should've been.

But nope, Kaisen was in some kind of ridiculous dance pose, completely unscathed, with spears hovering dangerously close to him but not quite touching.

It would've been a sight to behold—a graceful, proud display of agility and finesse—if only this human wasn't the enemy. Because, honestly, who the hell wants to see someone like him on the battlefield? The Elders were on the verge of a collective aneurysm just thinking about it.

This guy was way too much to handle.

"Human, I don't know what the fuck you want, but you're in my village, causing chaos when we've got bigger shit to deal with. So, what's your deal?"

Elder Nora's voice was calm, but her eyes were narrowed, sizing Kaisen up like she was trying to decide if she should kill him or just strangle him a little.

Kaisen, still holding his absurd pose, grinned.

"I'd love to chat, really, but these spears... Could you tell them to back the fuck off?"

He said it so casually, like he wasn't surrounded by enough weaponry to make a porcupine jealous.

Sure, he could talk like this all day, but it's hard to maintain your swagger when you're basically a human pincushion.

Elder Nora eyed him for a moment, analyzing his every move. She could tell this wasn't just some idiot with a death wish.

"Don't listen to him, Elder—"

The chief, who had apparently developed a selective memory and forgotten that killing Kaisen hadn't worked out too well, started to pipe up, only to be cut off.

"Shut up! Don't embarrass the tribe any further."

Elder Nora snapped, her patience thinner than a cheap bedsheet.

"But Elder—"

"I said shut up!"

This time, Elder Nora didn't just raise her voice; she unleashed a ripple of transparent mana force so powerful it knocked everyone except the Elders and Kaisen to their knees. Kaisen, of course, was unfazed.

Well, almost. He did feel something—goosebumps. That's it. Just a little tingle, like someone had cranked up the AC.

"You—boy! Why the hell are you here?"

Elder Nora's voice cut through the tension like a knife, aimed straight at Kaisen. She didn't even bother acknowledging the other Elders, who were watching Kaisen with a mix of curiosity and frustration.

But Elder Lenon? Oh, he was practically vibrating with rage. A human—no, this human—had the audacity to stroll into his village and make his top warriors look like clowns.

And let's not forget the earlier humiliation his grandson endured in front of everyone. That fiasco had spread like wildfire, and now, everyone was whispering about the "tiny earthworm" between his grandson's legs.

The shame was unbearable.

Elder Lenon's mind was already spinning with plans for revenge. First, that damn Roland's family would pay.

He'd make sure the girl was married off to his grandson, though not as the main wife—oh no. The honor of main wife was reserved for someone from the Ice Mountain Cat tribe, someone who would strengthen his bloodline.

As for the boy? When he turned 12, Lenon would have him shipped off to the garrison, where the harsh life of a soldier would mold him into something useful—or kill him trying.

And Roland? That poor sap was so brainwashed with patriotism and loyalty to the clan that Lenon could already see his future. During one of those frequent Dog Tribe raids, it wouldn't take much—a little nudge, a slight push—to turn Roland into a martyr.

And then, oh yes, Lenon would graciously take in the poor widow. After all, the poor woman would be all alone, and someone had to "look after" her, right?

Lenon could see it now: he'd give her a cushy role as his personal maid—right under his thumb, where he could keep an eye on her and maybe enjoy a little something extra on the side.

He'd throw her a few coins as an "allowance" to keep her in line, making sure she was forever grateful and forever in his debt.

But all those devious plans were crumbling to dust because of this goddamn human. The thought made his blood boil. He'd never forgive this insolent bastard for ruining everything.

"I said, what are you here for, human?"

Kaisen flashed a dashing smirk that could charm the pants off a nun.

"Ah, me? I'm the special one-man army Mr. Roland contacted to deal with your little dog problem."

He finished with a flourish, bowing so gracefully you'd think he was auditioning for the role of a prince in a twisted fairy tale.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM