The snow crunched under Lemony's boots, the only sound in the frozen waste of the Peak of the First Rib. He gripped the strap of his tattered bag so hard his knuckles turned white against the dark fabric. Light blue frost coated his thick, grayish-brown fur. He looked like an overgrown, grumpy cat walking on two legs, which was typical for a Pale-Mantle Manul. In the Veridian Kingdom, his kind was known for two things: being weak and having a permanent scowl.
His red coat and scarf were heavy with melted snow. Each step felt heavier than the last until, finally, his legs just gave out. He thudded face-first into a drift and didn't even try to get up. He just lay there, his cheek pressed against the biting cold.
They set me up. They definitely set me up.
His mind drifted back to the Pamon mansion. He had been scrubbing the floors late into his shift, remembering the heavy scent of noble perfume and the flicker of candlelight. Then, there were the voices.
Lemony had peeked around a corner and saw the House Master's son, a young Sunmane Leon with a golden mane, arguing with someone. But the other guy didn't look like any feline Lemony had ever seen. In a mansion where every guard and servant was some kind of cat, this person was just weird.
Who the hell was that guy?
By sunrise, the mansion was a mess of screaming and weeping. The young master was dead in his bed. Without any explanation, the guards had dragged Lemony out of the servant quarters before he could even blink. His hands were trembling, though he couldn't remember why. For some reason, they arrested him instead of that strange creature.
But then again, he was just a "trash" feline. Of course they picked him. This was the Beastiary Theory of Evolution in action. Even the old Master, the man who had fed him for ten years, wouldn't look him in the eye. He just signed the papers and handed Lemony over to the Veridian Royal Guard.
Now, he was here. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the swirling gray sky.
Across the kingdom, giant shimmering rifts tore through the landscape. These Beastwar Portals were the lifeblood of the country, maintained by sacrificing creatures to an ancient beast named Malphas. To keep the gears of the kingdom turning, the court used a simple solution. They rounded up thieves, rebels, and killers, then shoved them through the one-way rifts.
It was the same theory again—throwing away worthless creatures so the better ones could survive. Lemony was just the latest meal for Malphas, the monster that ruled this frozen pocket dimension.
He let out a shaky breath, watching the steam vanish into the air.
I am actually going to get eaten by a monster...
He forced himself to sit up and hugged his knees. He couldn't just sit here and freeze before the beast even found him. Still, it felt like there was nothing he could really do.
With no other choices left, Lemony ended up laying flat on his back again. He didn't even bother brushing off the snow. Above him, a pale moon hung in the sky, looking cold and indifferent.
What am I even supposed to do?
He was just a piece of meat. He stared at the moon and ran his full name through his head: Lemony Xaphan Pamon.
He got his first name when his parents traded him to a traveling merchant for a crate of lemons. Just a kid, swapped for a pile of sour fruit. From that day on, he was raised to be a tool. He scrubbed floors and hauled crates until his paws bled. He did it because he had to. It didn't make him sad or angry; he was just empty.
Xaphan was the name on his old paperwork, the only scrap of a past he had before the Pamon family bought him. Not that it mattered. The other servants just laughed and called him Lemon.
He blinked as snowflakes landed on his eyelashes.
Lemons are bitter, he thought, closing his eyes. Lemons are sour. Lemons get squeezed until there is nothing left but the rind, and then they get thrown in the trash.
He let the snow pile up over his chest and his breathing slowed. He was going to let the cold take him before the beast did. Hours drifted by while the cold turned into a heavy, numb weight.
Then, the wind changed. A sharp, rhythmic flapping cut through the silence.
"There's someone here!" a girl's voice shouted.
Heavy boots crunched the snow right next to his head. Suddenly, Lemony felt a pair of hands grab him under his armpits. His feet dragged along the frozen ground, and then the ground vanished. He was being pulled up into the air.
"Hey! Can you hear me? Wake up!"
Lemony didn't answer. He didn't even open his eyes. He just let his head loll to the side, listening to the heavy panting of the person carrying him. The wind rushed past his ears, followed by the sound of muffled voices and footsteps on wooden floorboards.
"Over ten people were just dropped in the sector, sir!" the girl yelled, her voice strained.
She ran down a hallway, still dragging him, and finally dropped him onto a mattress. The springy, soft surface was a shock after the frozen dirt. Before he could process the warmth, a sharp sting exploded across his cheek.
Slap!
Lemony's eyes snapped open. He bolted upright, rubbing his face. "Ugh, what the hell?"
"Oh, good. You're alive," the girl said, wiping sweat from her forehead.
Lemony blinked, trying to clear his blurry vision. The girl standing over him was strange. She had a delicate, human-like face, but her long, dark hair flowed down her back and merged into massive, insect-like wings.
The words from the Great Beastiary began forming for the readers...
Species Name: Moth-Soul
Description: A supernatural based Moth with enhanced life expectancy, durability, and overall unique body composition built from muscle fibers.
"Where is this? And who are you?" Lemony muttered, his voice raspy.
She put her hands on her hips, her dark wings fluttering slightly. "You're at the Peak of the First Rib hidden base. And you, my grumpy friend, are going to be staying here for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not."
Lemony looked around the wooden room. It was warm, lit by a small hearth. "The portal... the beast?"
"Oh, Malphas is very real," she said, pulling up a wooden stool. "He roams every part of this mountain every night. But we built a little sanctuary. If you go outside at night, you're a dead body. If you stay in here, you work, you eat, and you don't die. And the only key to the outside world is theoretically to kill Malphas, the core of this realm."
Lemony frowned, pulling his red scarf tight. "You save everyone the kingdom throws away?"
"We try! But you're a heavy one, mister cat. I think I pulled a muscle in my wing lifting you." She leaned forward, poking his furry arm. "You're a Pale-Mantle Manul, right? You guys always look like you just swallowed something foul."
"It's just my face," Lemony grumbled.
"Well, it's a great face for scaring away the birds," she giggled, extending a hand. "I'm Sissy Suzlal! Welcome to the Leftovers."
"Leftovers?" The word felt heavy on his tongue.
Sissy nodded. "The kingdom dumps its trash through that rift, and we scrape it up. We're all former slaves, criminals, and rejects. We built this place to survive. Forever, hopefully."
Lemony pulled his knees to his chest. He looked at the fire with a blank face. "Wouldn't it be better to just die?"
The bright smile slid right off Sissy's face. The cheerful bounce in her wings died, and her shoulders slumped. She looked down at her hands, staying quiet for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was much softer.
"Maybe for some. But I can't just lose hope. Not after getting this far." She took a breath, shaking off the mood and slapping her cheeks. "Anyway! No time for doom and gloom. Let's figure out what you're good at. Can you farm? Build walls? Fight?"
Lemony leaned his head back against the wall. "I was a servant in a noble house. I did whatever they told me to."
"A house servant, huh? That's common around here. Well, that settles it. You're joining the cleaning unit of the Leftovers."
Leftovers, Lemony thought. He didn't even have the energy to sigh.
"Can you stand up?" she asked.
Lemony pushed himself off the mattress. His legs were still shaky, but they held. "Yeah."
"Great. Follow me."
Sissy led him out of the room and into a long, winding tunnel. Lemony tilted his head up and blinked. The ceiling wasn't made of rock or wood. Massive, curved white pillars arched high over their heads, vanishing into the shadows. It looked like they were walking inside the ribcage of some dead god.
The tunnel opened up into a massive cavern carved right into the bone. Hundreds of creatures were bustling about. He saw lizard-folk carrying lumber, bird-men sewing canvas, and insect-kin hammering iron. It was a massive hive hidden inside a mountain of bone.
Sissy led him into a side chamber and pointed at a rack of worn-out brooms, mops, and heavy iron buckets. "Here we are. The supply room. Grab what you need."
Lemony stared at the bristles of a broom.
I'm back to being a servant.
He gripped the wooden handle, which felt all too familiar in his paws. He looked over at Sissy, who was watching him. "Is there any actual happiness in this place?"
Sissy paused. She looked straight into his eyes, seeing the deep, dull emptiness there. It wasn't just physical tiredness; he looked completely hollow. Her expression softened, but then she puffed out her chest and a smirk returned to her lips.
"There is. You just have to look for it. Or make it yourself." She stepped back toward the doorway, giving him an energetic wave. "I've got to check on the other new arrivals. Don't slack off!"
With a flutter of her hair-wings, she vanished.
Lemony stood alone, leaning his chin on the top of the broom handle. He pulled off his red coat and looked at his chest. There was a mark there that looked like a cracked, brown seal. It was his crest. In this world, the Great Beastiary decided everyone's fate based on these things.
A brown, cracked crest meant he was a Rank 0, a Faulty Crest. It was a sign that he was nobody. Most people here had brown crests too, meaning they were just civilians. But Lemony was staring at his for another reason. If a crest started to crumble away, the person would just disappear.
Part of him wanted to just get it over with and die, but then a bunch of screaming started outside.
Lemony pulled his red coat back on and stepped out into the cavern. The chaos had instantly died into a suffocating silence. Dozens of lizard-kin and bird-men were dropping to their knees. They pressed their foreheads against the white bone floor, clearing a wide path down the center.
Lemony blinked, still gripping his broom. Nobody was looking at him, and nobody told him to get down. He felt like a king walking through a sea of subjects. He started walking down the cleared path, his boots thudding loudly.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He passed rows of kneeling people. Up close, they were shaking. Sweat dripped from their snouts, and their eyes were squeezed shut in pure terror. The air grew heavy, like he was walking through deep, cold water. A pressure pressed against his chest, making it hard to breathe. The aura got heavier with every step he took toward the exit.
But he didn't stop. He pushed through the heavy wooden doors at the end of the tunnel and stepped out into the dark night.
The freezing wind whipped his scarf into his face. He squinted against the whiteout, and that was when the pressure truly slammed into him. The thing was perched on a massive spire of bone just a few yards away.
It was the size of a mansion, with a muscular body covered in snow-colored feathers. Giant, leathery wings were tucked against its sides. Its head was a nightmare, featuring a long, curved beak and massive horns that spiraled toward the sky.
Lemony's grip loosened, and his broom fell into the snow. This was Malphas.
The ancient beast shifted its weight, making the mountain shudder. It lowered its horned head, locking those terrifying eyes directly onto the tiny gray feline standing in the doorway. After a moment, the giant monster turned its head and walked off into the snow, its movements surprisingly careful.
Lemony heard heavy footsteps behind him. He turned to see Sissy and a massive gorilla with four eyes standing there.
"What were you doing? How did you even survive that?" Sissy shouted. She looked like she was about to have a heart attack.
Lemony was just as confused as she was. "How did I survive what?"
The four-eyed gorilla, Koro, stepped forward and looked Lemony up and down. He grunted. "That beast gives off enough pressure to crush a normal person's heart. Why weren't you even fazed?"
Lemony tilted his head. "Am I supposed to be?"
Both of them looked at him with genuine worry. They didn't know what to say, so they just told him to get back inside immediately. Sissy followed Lemony all the way back to his room.
"What even happened out there?" Lemony asked as he sat down.
Sissy was pacing, her wings twitching. She looked angry, but mostly because she had been scared. "Malphas should have killed you! Making eye contact with an Ancient Beast is a death sentence!"
Lemony didn't look worried. He just sighed and pulled off his red coat again. As he did, his chest started to glow with a faint brown light. He looked down and saw that the cracks on his crest were gone. The surface was now smooth and solid.
Suddenly, a strange wind blew through the room. Lemony looked past Sissy's shoulder and saw glowing words floating in the air.
New Achievement Log
Deed: The Unwanted
Descriptions: You stood unfazed experiencing the Divine Thread Malphas' Heraldic Passive. Roughly because of your Apathetic Receptor Syndrome.
The words hung there for a second before they changed.
Rank Increased.
Rank 0: Fault Crest
Rank 0: Common Paws
You are now considered to be a complete and functional character in the world of Ouroboros. You are not hated by the system nor liked. You're just yourself, and your fate will still be in the hands of the Great Beastiary.
Lemony stared in shock. He had been a Faulty Crest his entire life. Now, after seventeen years of being a nobody, he had finally risen a rank.