Iris awoke.

She would rather have not.

On her back, laying in a puddle of her own blood, she didn't know how she was alive. The wounds on her chest were deep and would leave nasty scars if she lived.

The sky looked incredibly blue for the slaughter that had happened the day before. Birds were flying overhead; the forest was alive with life.

It was painful to move, so she laid numbly still.

Her right arm wouldn't answer her commands anyway. Her legs wouldn't carry her any further either. Not now.

Iris was wondering where her life would go from here. Then she heard voices coming near her.

"The tracks lead this way."

"I can see the tracks, dimwit."

Panic. She couldn't run, not like this. Fighting off multiple foes was impossible. Iris managed to scoot her battered body backward towards an oak tree and get herself sitting up, all without letting out any noise. It helped her voice was mostly gone from the night before.

She knew there was no getting away. But at least Iris could look death in the face as it took her.

Not moving any further, she watched as the brush was pushed aside nearby and a group of humans came into view.

The first man, a young soldier, drew his sword.

"Found it!"

Novices.

He should have already had it drawn. Letting her hear them earlier was another rookie move.

A few more characters moved into view.

"Is it still alive? Looks pretty dead to me."

It was a pig-faced fellow. Likely hideous even among his own species.

There were seven humans total. The pig-faced guy. The young rookie who found her. A skinny dude with greasy hair. One fat man. Two goons that looked like twins...

The last man came into view, and Iris had to choke down blood.

It was him!

The white-haired bastard!

He still wore that same infuriating blank demeanor.

Iris tried with all her incredible might to stand and face him, but her body wouldn't obey. This was his fault! Iris burned holes into the man instead, setting him alight in the way Leya burned.

"Looks like it can't move."

One of the twins.

"I think it's a she."

The other.

"It's hard to tell. She doesn't have any hair."

"She's covered in muscle too. Very unladylike."

"How can you see muscle under all that blood?"

"What do we do with her?"

They talked amongst themselves, but Iris heard none of it, glaring at the white-haired man.

The fat man finally spoke up, addressing white-hair as if he were the leader.

"What do you think, Liam?"

The name of the man who put her in this position. Who killed her people. Who slaughtered innocents.

"Just kill her."

Liam stared back at her, unfazed.

Iris welcomed it. If she could stand, she would die a warrior's death. A death worthy of a Black!

Fate had other plans...

"Eh? But that's such a waste."

One of the twins leered at her; his face carried a crooked grin. His gaze roamed her body slowly, up and down, examining her like a piece of meat.

"She is a female, after all."

"That's true. She would sell well. Some people have fetishes for large women."

"Beast-kin can be used for labor."

"The horns are what's important. Hey, Liam, what are these beasts again?"

The rookie turned over his shoulder. Liam replied indifferently.

"Black Rhino's."

Indeed that was what she was. Two horns on their heads set them apart from most other races. A horn on their foreheads and a smaller one at the tip of their noses. That is it. Nothing more.

It was true that they were large compared to humans, had tougher, darker skin, and grew no hair. But humans came in all colors, shapes, and sizes, so none of that mattered. It was her horns that classified her as a beast.

"Ah, that was it, wasn't it?"

"It doesn't matter what she is. We can have some fun with her before we sell her."

The same twin looked at her, licking his lips, already playing out some scenario in his head.

Iris ignored the idiot and glared back at Liam. She managed to scrounge up enough saliva to mutter a couple of words.

"Kill me."

Liam looked at her. His face a complete mask. Only his eyes contained the slightest emotion. Iris could see the pity in his eyes.

It enraged her.

"Kill me."

She seethed.

The twin spit.

"We aren't stupid enough to listen to an animal's pleas. You're worth more alive. You three, drag her over here and hold her down. Tully, you look out for trouble; I'll give you a turn after."

Most of them listened. The fat man stood farther away with a pale expression, while Liam still stared into her eyes.

They never lost eye contact—neither giving an inch.

Iris would not beg. She was a Black. A Black never begs.

The greasy haired man, pig-face, and the rookie pulled her legs, dragging her down onto her back. They split up, holding both her arms down as the uglier twin approached.

Iris couldn't move her limbs anyway. So they were doing jack shit.

The twin moved her legs apart, pulling her torn pants down. Iris finally broke her gaze and looked to the twin. He unbuckled his pants, revealing a hilarious sight. Iris couldn't help but snicker.

"What's so funny bitch!"

The twin elbowed her in the gut. Causing her to lose her breath and choke on more blood.

"Not so funny now, is it!"

He reached over and grabbed her breast, squeezing. Her chest wounds tore open again at his hard grip. Iris bit her cheek.

"Hahaha, so you do have tits, you broad."

The twin set himself down on top of her but froze.

Iris whipped her head forward, creating two new holes in the twin's face.

He died instantly, dropping limply onto her.

Idiot.

"SULLY!"

The other twin cried out. The men holding her backed away quickly, astonished.

Her eyes moving back to Liam, she spoke again, in a calm manner.

"Kill me."

She didn't beg. It was an order.

The fat man was deathly pale. In contrast, Liam seemed to have expected this.

Finally moving forward, he drew his sword.

Turning the weapon around, he whacked her unconscious.

=

"Sully's dead!"

"He's really dead."

"I'll kill that bitch! She killed my brother!"

Tully drew his weapon, marching forward.

Liam moved up, putting a hand on his chest.

"Enough."

"You saw that bitch kill him! Why can't I do the same?"

"Orders."

Tully ranted and cursed, stomping around.

"At least let me rip those horns out!"

Liam looked indifferent.

The sweating fat man chimed in with his thoughts.

"If... If you plan to sell her. Keeping the horns intact would raise her price four-fold. The price of her horns alone is exemplary but insignificant in comparison to an intact... specimen."

The pig-faced man grabbed hold of this.

"Yeah, we can be rich! Losing one brother is worth living the rest of your life in comfort. I know a guy we can sell to."

"That's right! We can each buy an estate!"

"I heard royals like to use the horns as a seasoning."

Tully blew a fuse. Erupting in rage.

"YOU BASTARDS! To hell with all of you! I'll kill you all and then her too!"

Tully pushed past Liam, froth flying from his mouth.

He didn't get far before his head hit the ground, rolling next to his brother's feet.

Liam sheathed his sword. Looking to the rest of the men.

"Tie her up. We need to head back."

Liam turned away, not waiting for an answer.

=

Ryker was having a bad day. He was a Captain in the Meist military, second in command of this so-called "Barbarian Suppression Expedition". His only immediate superior out here was Commander Featherworth. A cruel man that had some skill but entirely unfit to lead.

Ryker remembered looking down at Featherworth, body flattened and burnt to ash.

An insane woman larger than any man in both height and width, while on fire, had decimated their court-assigned mages and took Featherworth down with her.

"What a mess."

His Second-in-command had his head blown off by a rock before the battle even begun. Most of the officers were dead. Anyone that was remotely competent and held a rank was lying in pieces.

Before this battle, they had defeated three other "barbarian" villages and routed a ten-thousand strong goblin horde while losing less than ten percent of their army.

Now, there were barely three hundred men left of the original twelve hundred they set out with.

A group of five did this. Five! Five people took out more than half their numbers and left them crippled.

Ryker shivered at the thought of fighting the entire population.

"The recruits were supposed to get some experience on this mission. Well, they got it. The few that lived anyway."

All this left Ryker with an incredible mess to clean up. There was no way to recover all the bodies, so they took what remained of the officers and hauled them onto a cart. The enemy has been completely annihilated except for one that fled into the forest. They took the horns of the dead to prove the kills. The bodies were of no use to them, so they set them alight on a pyre, doing the same with their own dead. Scavengers were a real issue this far North. The only bodies they kept were a few of the high ranking officers who were minor nobles and the like. The families would complain if they weren't be buried properly.

"I can't even identify some of them!"

Running a hand through his hair, he took deep breaths to calm himself.

He was currently sitting in a hastily built tent, accounting for all the losses. He was writing dozens of condolence letters that were practically identical except for the recipient. It would take the entire trip back to finish them all...

Ryker ordered the clean up, so he was just waiting on the group he sent out to return.

"How am I supposed to explain this to command?"

Ryker was rubbing his temples.

He never wanted to be a part of this expedition anyway. It was a waste of human resources when the northern "barbarians" had never left their territories. The land was unusable, and wildlife was scarce. Roaming monsters tended to gather in large groups, and wyverns were often spotted circling the mountain peaks. It was entirely irrational!

"Damned nobles."

This entire campaign was completely political with not a single ounce of military reasoning. They had wanted an "easy win" after consecutive defeats against the Shen Navy. Thinking a subjugation on their own land would help boost morale.

"They'll wring my neck."

This was why he was worried. As the highest-ranking officer remaining, being the one bringing home bad news, Ryker's head would be on the chopping block. They would use him as a scapegoat for why the expedition failed, not caring one bit about the truth that they were the ones that sent all these men to die needless deaths.

Ryker's spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a voice just outside the tent.

"Sir, you have a visitor."

"They're no visitors out here. Just send them in already."

A man entered the tent. He had white hair and an unreadable expression. He saluted.

"Report."

"Sir. We followed the tracks left behind by the survivor into the forest. We were able to find the survivor and finish her off. Two men died in the exchange."

"I see..."

Ryker had half-hoped they escaped so he could rub it in his superior's faces but was more relieved that he could report a "complete" subjugation.

"Good work. Do you have a name?"

"Liam. Sir."

"Alright, Liam. I am giving you a field promotion to lieutenant. You will be my second and help me sort out this mess. Here."

Ryker tossed a slightly bloody badge that signified Liam's new rank.

"Get the men on their feet and ready to move. Report back when ready."

"Sir!"

Liam saluted, turned on his heel, and left the tent.

Ryker looked back at the letters as he was writing. Two more were added to his list.

... He desperately hoped it wouldn't grow any longer.

=

Iris woke in the dark.

Taking a moment to groan and regret the fact she still drew breath. She glanced around, waiting for her vision to adjust.

Cramped. She could see outlines of iron bars surrounding her.

A cage then...

Rattling and bouncing around, a thick tarp covered the cage. Her arms and legs were shackled with thick metal cuffs, a collar around her neck. All useless as her body remained unresponsive. Judging by her stomach, she'd been out for nearly a day.

Iris gleaned that she's been sold into slavery. Or was about to be. She wasn't sure what kind of fate awaited her. Her people had always been killed outright to her knowledge, never taken alive. Or never making it back to tell the tale.

Iris thought back to the worm that tried to assault her. There were likely going to be more people like that. She had heard the mention of labor so she could be sold to a work camp. It wouldn't be all bad. One day she would escape and...

And what?

Iris's eyes dimmed as she realized... she had nothing left.

Her people. Her family. Her home. Her friends. She had nothing. What point was there to freedom without purpose? Without family.

Iris didn't have any misguided thoughts about taking revenge. Neither on the white-haired man, Liam, or the entirety of humanity. She was likely never to meet that man again, and trying to kill all humans would be foolish beyond irrational. Hating them for selling her into slavery and killing her people? She would never forgive them, but she couldn't hate them for doing what was in their nature. Surely some humans were good. Surely...

Maybe...

Possibly...

Iris never met a human before recently, and she could say with certainty that the ones she met were all trash. But it wasn't like humans were uniquely bad. Goblins and kobolds took slaves, sometimes. For most monsters and beasts, it was survival of the fittest. The Blacks were just another group that they failed to survive. Numerous foes beat them despite their superior strength.

Iris wanted to cry for her people. Cry at the injustice of it all. But her tears were spent and crying wouldn't bring them back.

It was not like the Blacks were entirely benevolent. There had been a few who went crazy or did stupid things thinking they were stronger or different from everyone else. They had lived short lives.

The unfortunate thing was how numerous humans were. They made up the most of civilized society. There are just too many to keep track of. With a normal tree, you can explain away a few bad apples. But when you have a world-sized tree, bad apples are so numerous that some make the mistake of thinking that's all the tree produces.

Twitching, she tried to maintain a calm demeanor despite her wounds. Iris thought about what she wanted to do.

She wanted to go home.

Yule. Polm. Riah. Leya. Quell. Paula. Emeila. Eric. Little Lisa.

Home.

She had none.

If I have none...

She would create one. One day. One day she would create a new home. One where anyone can live. Free. Without worry.

A suitable goal. Noble.

Iris closed her eyes. Trying to rest.

Her wounds would last long. Scars outside that match the inside.

Life wasn't so bad.