1 Two Gorgeous Ladies.

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[1250 - Afternoon - Outskirt of Magpie Forest, Temeria - 0 Days.]

"So? What do you think? Is there any person in your mind?" asked one of the women, her voice carrying a somewhat innocent yet sultry tone, brimming with curiosity.

"No idea dear. Even if I knew, I've probably already fucked him by now. He looks so... smashing," replied another woman, her sentence ending with a touch of passion.

After a few seconds of silent leering, the women continued apathetically. "What a pity our advisor position needed our immediate attention. Come, Triss, we shouldn't make our king wait any longer."

"Keira... We can't leave him just like that. What if some monster suddenly shows up while he is still unconscious?" Triss, the woman with the innocent voice, expressed her concern.

"My darling Triss, if we help every helpless folk in this charming dung hole of a place, we will find ourselves in endless trouble," Keira responded.

"But-"

"Oh look, he's awake!" Triss's words were cut short by Keira loud exclamation.

—

Wearing a gray tuxedo and a long tie, the man in question slowly wakes up from his slumber by reason of traveling through space and time. Still muddle-headed, the man tries to get up but always falls down, seemingly experiencing vertigo or some sort of dizziness.

"Here, let me help you." The woman named Triss walks up to the man and assists him in getting on his feet. After a couple of minutes, steadying himself with the help of the redhead, the man says thank you in a language that neither of them can understand.

"What are you saying, handsome? Care to repeat that one more time?" The straw blonde, Keira, approaches the man while frowning, seemingly trying to remember which language he is using. Not Southern, Eastern, and certainly not Northern.

The man in the tuxedo continues talking, but his words only cause further confusion for the two drop-dead gorgeous women.

"Hmm. Is it Ofiri? Nilfgaardian? Yet the dialect seems to be Zerrikanian."

"I don't know. Perhaps he comes from the land beyond the Blue Mountains. Or perhaps his mind has been altered."

After a couple of minutes standing there in silence, staring at the man who is slowly regaining clarity from the concussion, the blonde says to the redhead, "Should we use Telepathy? I'm just afraid folks around here will pick up the fork and torches when this handsome man goes home and tells anyone."

"Keira... Do you think he looks like an ordinary folks to you? And the looks…"

Looking at the attire the man is wearing and how his face looks like it's straight out of a baby factory, Kiera simply replies, "You're right."

Then, out of nowhere, the man suddenly extends his hand in a grabbing motion. Confused and unable to react, the two women watch helplessly as seven silver strings come out of his hand and wrap around them, rendering them unable to move. But before they can channel their Chaos magic, their entire bodies turn around to face the opposite direction, and they are enveloped in complete darkness due to the sudden impact on the back of their necks.

—

Seeing the two ladies falling to the ground unconscious, Zefron stands there motionless, not even moving a single bit as their heads meet the earth. Waving his hand in an upward motion, the seven silver Fate string wraps around them once more, causing them to float into the air. Walking deep into the forest with the two ladies in tow, Zefron thinks to himself.

'They are either morons or naive to not know who I am and let themselves come within five meters of me, The Silver Puppeteer. With their level of strength, they could easily defeat me if they worked together while I was still unconscious. Yet it seems I misjudged them too much, in a good way. For me.'

Looking at the Future Fate vision of the two women fighting him with multiple abilities, Zefron continues his contemplation, 'Here I thought that by approaching me, they would discover that I'm merely playing dead. Sigh, it's good though. It means I have new puppets that haven't had much experience yet. They're a perfect replacement for my former instruments. But…'

Reflecting on how his three former puppets, whom he treated as disposable tools, somehow managed to make the Hero League and Villain Association go against him, he realizes where the problem lies.

'From the moment I met the three of them, I never considered how they felt about me.'

Blindly trusting in his Fate Binding abilities, Zefron always believed that whatever they did or would do to even have a thought to betray him, it would ultimately fail. After all, if he died, they would all die too. Additionally, with the power of Fate, which he has yet to fully understand, it would be nearly impossible for them to cause him harm. Unaware that by restraining their freedom, Fate itself would eventually retaliate against him in the future.

'Sigh. Making them work tirelessly every day, every week, every month, without considering how they feel, how they think, or where their loyalties lie, was a bad idea... An act as significant as offering flowers to the authorities, years later, would reveal my location, my actions, and my identity.'

With all the puppets dying one after another, Zefron quickly falls into a trap from which he cannot escape. Alone, with no allies left, fighting the two groups sent by the two organizations, Zefron almost succumbs to his demise.

Luckily, the lady with the ashen hair is currently battling a group of individuals dressed in Halloween costumes with shields and swords, causing even more chaos.

'If it weren't for her and the powers she employed at the last moment, I believe I would be dead by now.'

Amidst the ongoing chaos between the villains and heroes, who are battling to either recruit or sentence him to death, Zefron manages to slip past them and jump into the portal created by the lady. However, at the last moment, the individuals wearing a costume and wielding the staff with glowing orb on top of it, makes a strange gesture, causing the portal that the ashen-gray-haired lady creates to wobble when Zefron enters the portal.

'Still, what's the deal with those guys? Aren't they feeling hot and uncomfortable in those outfits? And these women too. Their appearance and way of speaking, it's different. Have there been any recent comic-con events?'

Observing the women with red hair, dressed in skin-tight cut underlines, trousers, and high-topped boots, Zefron inspects one of them while occasionally glancing up at the tree leaves, searching for a dense canopy that can completely hide him from the sky, concealing him from scrying eyes abilities.

'This one must be Triss, as I heard from their voices when they were conversing. She's the closest to me. And this one must be Kiera.'

Dressed in a hippie-style getup with a silver set adorned with a zircon ankh cross around her neck, Zefron's eyes linger on the open area of her chest, particularly the ribbon that ties her attire together. With just a little pull, the two mounds are unlatched for everyone to see.

Taking a deep sigh to rein in his thoughts before going any further, Zefron then recalls how he treated all three of his puppets. He used them merely as toys to satisfy his bloodlust and as disposable tools to protect his own life. In the end, they all opted to take their own lives in the midst of their battles, refusing to follow Zefron's commands willingly. Diminishing their battle prowess to less than 50 percent.

Talented women who grew into powerful individuals, they disregarded the power they wielded. All of them constantly sought to betray him using whatever means possible. However, his Fate Binding properties always proved successful to protect him or any other puppet from harming each other. Until now...

Unbeknownst to him or any of his other puppets, one small act by one of them led Zefron to become a fugitive, constantly on the run. Unable to use all three puppets simultaneously because they didn't assist him willingly and with an open heart, Zefron quickly lost subsequent battles until he was the sole remaining member of the party.

'Sigh. I should call them subordinates from now on. I need to change my mindset and see human beings differently.'

Laughing bitterly at his choice of words, knowing he is also a human himself, Zefron finally locates the dense canopy. However, before he can sit down, he suddenly hears a deep growl of hunger emanating from the distant bushes. Turning around to face the source of the sound, the monstrous form slowly emerges, its eyes fixed upon Zefron.

The creature is an abomination, an entity that defies human nature. It walks on all fours, its complexion a sickly green, resembling decaying flesh. Its teeth are stained with dripping blood and saliva, emanating the stench of rot and the decay of a grave.

"What the fuck is that?"

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