Four kilometers east of Pentagon’s Hole, the ocean parted around a colossal island —

  Jabumba.

  It stretched nearly a thousand kilometers from tip to tail, its body wide and angular like a forged arrowhead buried halfway into the sea. From the air, it didn’t look natural — more like a weapon carved by gods and left to rust in salt and time.

  The forests here towered. Each tree rose five hundred meters tall, their trunks broader than city towers.

  The beasts that roamed between them were no less monstrous — creatures of every shape and hunger, large enough to crush houses beneath their feet or darken the sky with their wings. They preyed upon one another in endless, brutal rhythm.

  Amid this savage wilderness lay towns and settlements — small, flickering pockets of life clinging to the island’s edges.

  This was Jabumba Kingdom, home and fortress of the Tertius Division of the Orken Unbound.

  ---

  On a mountain peak, a portal cracked open — a whirl of violet and red light that split the air apart.

  Koby-Ann stepped through first, one massive hand gripping Eliana’s arm.

  She struggled, twisting against his iron grip. “Let go of me!”

  Koby-Ann didn’t flinch. Behind him, Poliandrew emerged from the portal, silent and watchful.

  “Welcome to Jabumba,” Koby-Ann said.

  Eliana froze mid-fight, her eyes widening at the sight before her.

  Vast green stretching beyond imagination. Waterfalls pouring from cliffs that reached the clouds.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

  Koby-Ann smirked. “One of the oldest islands in existence. Shaped like an arrow — and it sure as hell doesn’t look natural.”

  A roar split the air.

  From above, a titanic flying beast dove toward them — wings spanning dozens of meters, its screech shaking the mountainside.

  Poliandrew’s voice boomed like thunder.

  “Muscle Augmentation. Indomitable Defense.”

  He threw a sideways punch.

  The air detonated.

  A shockwave ripped through the sky, tearing the creature apart mid-flight. Blood and feathers rained down the mountain.

  Koby-Ann didn’t even look back. “Messy,” he muttered.

  ---

  Far across the range, built into the face of another peak, stood a fortress-like structure —

  a command deck carved directly into the mountain.

  Forty meters of reinforced glass stretched across its front like the bridge of a colossal ship, offering a full view of the island below.

  The glass panels slid open with a hiss, forming an entrance.

  Koby-Ann adjusted his grip on Eliana, then crouched — and leapt.

  The mountain cratered beneath his feet.

  He shot through the air like a missile, trees bending violently in his wake, the wind bursting apart in concentric rings as he aimed straight for the open command deck.

  When he passed through, he kicked the air itself, halting mid-flight.

  The sudden stop unleashed a gale that swept the entire deck.

  Soldiers were blown off their feet, slammed into the walls, plastered there like paper against glass.

  Eliana went limp in his arms, consciousness fading from the sheer acceleration.

  Inside, as the wind died, voices rose in awe.

  “Welcome back, Boss!”

  “How was your trip to Pentagon’s Hole?” someone asked.

  Koby-Ann grinned. “Great. Got myself an elf.”

  He strode past them without slowing, his heavy boots echoing across the metal floor.

  From the side corridor, an Aurellian man hurried toward him — tall, dark-skinned, white-haired, his golden eyes glinting. Steven — once an S-Rank Raider, now an Unbound under Koby-Ann’s command.

  “Boss,” Steven said, slightly breathless. “The Supreme Boss has called for you. You’re to report to Headquarters immediately.”

  Koby-Ann groaned. “What?! Are you kidding me? I was just about to enjoy my elf.”

  Steven kept his gaze down. “He said now, Boss.”

  “Such bad timing,” Koby-Ann muttered. “Fine, fine… what’s his name again—Kromotin, Krimanu?”

  “Chrominton, sir.”

  “Right. Chrominton!”

  A blur of air flashed beside him.

  A short young Orken boy appeared, standing to attention. Too short for an Orken. Seventeen years old, eleven feet tall, lean and quick as lightning. He had brown skin and two small short horns on his forehead. Clearly a late bloomer.

  “Y-yes, Boss!”

  Koby-Ann handed Eliana to him. “Take her to where the others are.”

  Poliandrew landed softly behind them, dust scattering around his boots.

  “Chrominton,” Koby-Ann added, his tone flat but dangerous.

  “Yes, Boss?”

  “Tell your fat friend to get my Waver ready.”

  Chrominton blinked. “Uh… which one, Boss?”

  Koby-Ann’s eye twitched. “What do you mean which one? You want me to kill you?”

  “There are… a few fat ones, so…”

  “The fishal.”

  “Oh! You mean Dalus. Okay, Boss.”

  Koby-Ann waved him off. “Then go.”

  Chrominton nodded quickly and jogged through the hallways, carrying Eliana gently in his arms.

  He passed through several doorways until he reached a vast chamber filled with dozens of beds and soft furniture. The room was warm, perfumed, almost royal — and filled with women of many races.

  They were slaves, technically. But Koby-Ann didn’t keep them starving or broken.

  They were clothed, fed, and treated with a strange form of possessive care — yet everyone knew the truth.

  They lived at his mercy.

  And whenever he desired, they had no choice but to obey.

  “Hey, guys,” he called. “Brought you company.”

  The room stirred instantly.

  Dozens of women turned from their beds and couches, their faces lighting up at the sight of him.

  “Chrominton!” one of them said, smiling.

  The voice came from a Dragoon woman reclining lazily on a couch, her. She had red skin and crimson eyes — her name was Opa.

  She nodded toward the unconscious elf in his arms.

  “Who’s that?”

  Chrominton shifted Eliana’s weight slightly. “No idea. The Boss brought her just now.”

  He stepped farther in. The air smelled faintly of flowers and sea-salt — a strange softness for a place built inside a fortress.

  Across the room, a vast aquarium curved along the far wall, filled with shimmering blue water. Inside it, a mermaid rested against the glass, her long black tail trailing behind her like liquid shadow.

  Her hair — equally black — floated around her pale face as she leaned forward, smiling.

  “Why don’t you come visit us more often, Chrom?” she said teasingly. Her voice carried a haunting melody even through the glass. “You’re the only one here who’s nice to us.”

  Chrominton chuckled lightly. “You know how it is, Flora. Running errands for the Boss, keeping up with training, trying not to die — busy life.”

  From one of the beds nearby, a Lyncan woman stretched languidly. She had white fure. Silvina, her name was.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  She gave him a lazy grin. “We miss you, Chrom. But you’ve forgotten all about us.”

  Another voice chimed in, soft but sly.

  “Yeah,” said a Leporid woman with orange skin and blue hair. “He’s abandoned us.”

  That was Hawarin, youngest among them, nibbling on a fruit slice as she smirked.

  Chrominton raised his hands in mock surrender. “Come on, you know I haven’t abandoned you. Fine. I promise — I’ll visit more often from now on.”

  From the far corner, a low, powerful voice cut through the air.

  “Stop lying, Chrominton.”

  He turned.

  Leaning against the wall stood an Orken woman, towering eighteen feet tall, her brown skin glinting beneath the lights. Around her wrist gleamed a thick metallic band — a restraint, identical to the ones worn by Valerius and Eliana.

  Her name was Shiba.

  “Shiba,” he sighed, “when are you going to realize I’m on your side?”

  She pushed off the wall, her every step making the floor tremble slightly. “I’ll believe that,” she said, her tone sharp but not cruel, “when you get us out of here.”

  “You know I can’t,” Chrominton said quietly. “If we’re caught, they’ll kill us. All of us.”

  Shiba stopped right before him, her shadow falling over his smaller frame. Her voice softened — just slightly.

  “You know why I don’t like you, Chrominton?” she said. “It’s not because you’re weak — it’s because you don’t believe in yourself.”

  He looked up, startled.

  She turned her gaze to the others.

  “How many eighteen-year-olds do you know,” she said, “who can match an S-Rank Raider in combat? You’re a genius, Chrominton — and you don’t even see it.”

  The words hung heavy in the air.

  Chrominton swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “As much as I want to help you… I can’t.”

  He lowered Eliana gently onto a bed of silken sheets.

  Then, from a nearby shelf, a faint glow flickered to life.

  A tiny figure, barely fourteen inches tall, fluttered into view — wings glimmering like morning dew, her whole body glowing with soft golden light.

  She was impossibly beautiful, delicate as starlight.

  A Fairy — one of the rarest races in all Yilheim.

  “Oooh,” she said, hovering near Eliana’s face. “An elf! She’s really pretty.”

  Chrominton smiled faintly. “Take care of her, okay, Clare?”

  Clare saluted playfully. “You got it.”

  He turned toward the door. “Alright, girls — I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye, Chrom,” Clare called, waving with both hands.

  “Don’t forget your promise,” Silvina said, half-smiling.

  “I won’t,” he said, but his voice was quieter now.

  The door closed behind him with a soft hiss.

  ---

  A few minutes later, Chrominton stepped into another chamber — smaller, darker, lined with humming crystal panels.

  The air smelled of dust and ozone.

  Inside, Dalus sat hunched before a wide Seer screen, replaying footage from Plunder Island — the infamous tournament that had shaken the world. He clicked through the images with a small remote, muttering to himself as scenes of carnage and triumph reflected in his eyes.

  Chrominton slammed open the door.

  “Get your lazy ass up, Dalus!” he barked. “Go prep the Boss’s Waver. Now!”

  The fat Fishal jolted upright, nearly dropping his Seer remote. “Wha—Chrom?! It’s just you!”

  He clutched his chest dramatically, gills flaring. “You scared the breath out of me!”

  Chrominton leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

  “Still watching that?” he asked.

  Dalus didn’t look away. “Again and again,” he said quietly. “Because every time, I see something new.”

  Dalus was young — maybe nineteen.

  Twelve feet tall, with slick green skin and seaweed-colored hair that hung in wet curls over his brow. His wide eyes blinked like a startled frog’s, and his webbed fingers twitched nervously as he stood.

  “Move it,” Chrominton said, crossing his arms.

  “Alright, alright,” Dalus muttered, waddling to his feet. “No need to shout, I heard you the first time.”

  He grabbed a heavy jacket and lumbered out and made his way through the steel corridors.

  ---

  Moments later, Dalus entered one of the largest hangars in the Tertius base — a vast chamber carved deep into the mountain, lit by long strips of white crystal lamps. The air thrummed with the low hum of engines.

  Rows of Wavers — sleek, shark-like flying vessels — rested in docking cradles along the platform. Each one gleamed under the lights.

  Dalus approached one of the larger models — Koby-Ann’s personal ride, its hull painted obsidian black with streaks of gold cutting across the fins. The cockpit gleamed like the eye of a predator.

  “Let’s get you fed,” Dalus muttered.

  He grabbed a heavy fueling hose from the wall, attaching it to the Waver’s port. The sound of liquid power rushing through the pipe filled the air — a steady whum-whum-whum that vibrated in his chest. Blue vapor hissed from the vents as the tank filled.

  “C’mon, c’mon…” he said, tapping the side panel. “Drink up.”

  The gauges blinked green.

  Fuel complete.

  He unhooked the pipe, tossed it aside, and climbed into the cockpit. The Waver came alive instantly — turbines spinning, thrusters warming with a deep, rhythmic hum.

  Dalus grinned. “Good girl.”

  He guided the Waver down the magnetic runway toward the exit gate.

  Ahead, the enormous blast doors began to part — thick slabs of alloy sliding open with a roar. Sunlight poured through the widening gap, flooding the hangar with golden light.

  The Waver shot forward, out into open air.

  Dalus banked right, soaring across the mountainside until he reached a flat landing platform near the peak — the designated launch zone. The wind screamed past as he descended, engines whining as he set the craft down with a soft metallic thud.

  He climbed out, brushing dust from his arms.

  The sound of footsteps thundered behind him.

  Koby-Ann approached — tall, broad-shouldered, a force of nature wrapped in flesh. His expression was unreadable as always.

  Dalus straightened immediately. “Boss!”

  He tossed the keys.

  Koby-Ann caught them mid-air without looking, a faint smirk crossing his face.

  “Good work,” he said simply, stepping into the cockpit.

  The Waver’s engines roared to life, vibrating the landing platform.

  Dalus stumbled back, shielding his face from the blast of wind as Koby-Ann lifted off — the craft soaring into the morning sky, slicing through clouds in a trail of gold and black.

  The thunder of its engines faded into the distance.

  Dalus exhaled. “There he goes again… like a damn storm on wings.”

  He turned, hands on his hips, staring at the shrinking silhouette in the horizon.

  “Hope wherever you’re headed, Boss,” he muttered, “it doesn’t end like the last time.”

  ---

  To Be Continued...