Alaric’s troops reached the capital of Eryndor, High Erynd, at dusk, though heat still clung stubbornly to the stone streets and the air smelled heavily of sun-baked dust.

Words of their return had traveled ahead before the army arrived, so the gates were already overflowing with people before the first banner even appeared in sight.

Merchants abandoned their stalls, children climbed onto shoulders, and others perched themselves on walls and rooftops because nobody wanted to miss what the king was bringing home from war.

The wagon came first.

It moved slowly through the streets. Even the horses seemed uneasy about what they were pulling behind them.

Heavy hides covered the cage, but the shape beneath them was unmistakable.

Chains scraped loudly every now and then while something massive shifted inside, and each time it moved, uneasy murmurs spread through the crowd. The people of Eryndor had seen lions trapped in cages before and even bears dragged through the capital after hunts, but this felt entirely different.

The wagon itself looked strained, almost as though the thing inside might split it apart at any moment.

Alaric rode behind it calmly.

His armor was spotless despite the long journey back and his horse remained steady beneath him while soldiers marched behind in exhaustion. Many were wrapped in bloodied bandages while others returned missing limbs entirely. None of them looked victorious. If anything, they looked like men who had survived something terrible and paid dearly for it.

The wagon finally rolled into the central square where a large platform had already been prepared ahead of their arrival. Spearmen surrounded it immediately with shields raised and spearpoints angled inward while ropes and soldiers held the crowd back.

Still, people leaned forward desperately because they wanted to see it with their own eyes. They wanted to later say they had stood there and looked directly into the tiger’s face.

Alaric slowly raised one hand and the square quieted almost instantly. "Bring the handlers," he ordered.

Two Vaelor men were dragged forward roughly, their wrists bound tightly behind them. They looked bruised, exhausted, and half-awake as though sleep had abandoned them completely after the battle. These were the handlers Alaric had intentionally kept alive because they understood the beast better than anyone else.

For now, he trusted them more than his own soldiers.

The captain general stepped closer cautiously. "Your Majesty, it’s dangerous. We can simply display it inside the cage and leave it there."

Alaric did not even bother looking at him. "I did not drag it across kingdoms just to hide it behind wood and iron."

He swallowed hard and stepped back without another word.

Alaric turned his gaze toward the wagon. "Open it," he commanded calmly. "Only as much as I say."

The hides were slowly pulled back section by section until the crowd finally saw the iron bars, the chains, and glimpses of striped fur moving restlessly within the darkness.

The tiger’s breathing alone was loud enough to reach across the square.

It smelled of wet fur, sweat, and dried blood that had long since soaked deep into its coat.

The moment light fully struck it, the tiger lunged violently.

The bars rattled thunderously and chains snapped tight with brutal force. One soldier stumbled backward and crashed onto the ground while panic rippled through the crowd all at once.

Alaric raised his hand again. "Hold the line."

The spearmen immediately steadied themselves while archers waited across nearby rooftops with arrows already drawn to aim directly at the tiger in case it broke free.

Slowly, the square quieted again.

Then Alaric gave another order. "Bring it out," he said evenly. "Into the ring."

Several soldiers exchanged horrified glances as though hoping they had heard wrong, but the moment Alaric’s cold gaze landed on them, they moved without protest.

The Vaelor handlers were shoved forward first.

One of them immediately began shaking his head in fear, but Alaric stepped closer and spoke quietly enough that only the man could hear.

"If you fail, you die. If you succeed, you still die later... just not today."

The handler’s expression tightened immediately before he gave a stiff nod.

The wagon gate was opened only slightly while chains were threaded carefully through the bars and additional ropes were secured around the beast. There were at least six ropes altogether, each held by four men and anchored tightly around heavy iron posts hammered deep into the stone ground.

The tiger emerged slowly at first.

Then suddenly it surged forward.

The ropes snapped tight so violently that the men holding them slid several feet across the stone. Its claws scraped harshly against the ground, sparks flashing beneath them as it roared loud enough for the entire square to tremble.

One rope team lost balance and a soldier fell.

The tiger reached him instantly. It grabbed him and shook him savagely while the man’s scream tore through the square before cutting off abruptly.

The crowd erupted into panic.

People shoved backward frantically, but there was nowhere to escape because too many bodies packed the square tightly together. Soldiers struggled to force the front rows back before they crushed through the barriers entirely.

Meanwhile, Alaric simply watched the killing unfold before him as if he were observing the beast prove exactly why it deserved to be feared.

The captain general immediately shouted, "Your majesty, we should put it down!"

Alaric turned his head slightly toward him. "No."

The tiger released the broken soldier and snapped viciously at the air, foam gathering around its mouth while its eyes remained wide and frantic. The handlers quickly jabbed at it with long poles while the rope teams strained harder, forcing the beast to face the center of the ring again. Boots scraped harshly against stone as the men fought to keep control.

Alaric stepped forward then and unsheathed his blade slowly because he wanted everyone watching to see that he could stand near the beast without trembling. "Get the blanket," he ordered calmly.

A thick heavy cloth was brought forward, large enough to completely smother a man. Two soldiers approached carefully before throwing it over the tiger’s head. Instantly the beast erupted violently beneath it, roaring and thrashing against the restraints, but the heavy cloth blocked its sight and dulled some of its precision. The handlers seized the opportunity immediately, tightening the collar chain harshly and forcing the tiger’s head lower.

A servant approached Alaric carrying a small cup. The sharp bitter smell from the liquid inside spread quickly through the air.

The captain general frowned. "Your Majesty... what is that?"

"Something to slow it down," Alaric answered simply.

The handlers forced the liquid into the tiger’s mouth while it struggled beneath the blanket. Some spilled across the cloth while the tiger gagged violently and snarled in fury. It would not weaken the beast completely, only dull its speed enough for Alaric to do what he intended without being torn apart before the entire capital.

Alaric’s gaze shifted toward the platform built beside the ring. It was wide, low, and reinforced strongly with thick timber while a short set of steps led upward.

"Bring it to the platform," he ordered.

The rope teams pulled hard.

The tiger resisted immediately, muscles flexing violently beneath its striped hide before it stumbled from exhaustion, only to lunge again moments later.

It looked like pure violence trapped inside ropes and chains.

Eventually they dragged it toward the base of the platform while the handlers kept the blanket tightly over its head. Ropes stretched from every direction now, preventing the beast from twisting properly while nearby spearmen stood ready with spearpoints aimed toward its ribs in case anything failed.

Alaric climbed the platform steps slowly.

Whispers immediately spread through the crowd.

The captain general suddenly grabbed at Alaric’s boot desperately. "Your Majesty..."

Alaric ripped his foot free instantly. "Touch me again and I’ll have your hand cut off."

The captain general froze and released him immediately.

Without hesitation, Alaric stepped down from the platform directly onto the tiger’s back.

A horrified silence swept across the square.

He planted his feet carefully because the tiger’s spine shifted powerfully beneath him while one hand gripped the heavy collar chain attached to the rope teams. The beast bucked violently beneath him and attempted to twist free, but the ropes held tight while the blanket blinded it halfway and the bitter drug slowed its movements just enough.

Around them, the men holding the ropes shouted frantically at one another to maintain tension. Their hands bled openly where the ropes burned through gloves and skin while sweat poured heavily down their faces.

The tiger roared again and thrashed violently beneath him, yet Alaric remained standing.

He refused to appear afraid.

That alone was the message he wanted burned into every mind watching.

One rope team suddenly lost footing for half a second and the tiger surged hard enough to nearly throw him off balance. The crowd gasped loudly, but Alaric recovered immediately by jerking the collar chain sharply while shifting his weight fast enough that it looked controlled rather than accidental.

Below him, one of the Vaelor handlers stepped too close.

The tiger’s paw lashed out suddenly from beneath the blanket and tore across the man’s chest. The handler dropped screaming onto the stone and never rose again.

Alaric did not even glance downward.

Instead, he raised his sword high above his head.

The entire square erupted instantly.

People screamed his name into the air. Some shouted from excitement while others joined because fear demanded it from them. A few remained silent entirely because the sight before them made their stomachs twist with unease.

Children cried openly in the crowd. Dogs barked wildly and some people even fainted from the panic surrounding them.

Alaric held the pose only briefly because despite everything, he was not foolish enough to push his luck too far. He wanted a story people would remember forever, not a mistake that ruined everything.

"Enough," he ordered finally.

The rope teams immediately dragged the tiger backward while soldiers standing on the platform reached down to pull Alaric safely upward again. He allowed them to help him, though his eyes remained fixed on the tiger as if he hated leaving it.

The moment his boots touched the platform fully, the spearmen closed ranks immediately while the handlers forced the beast back toward the wagon using tightened ropes and sharp jabs from their poles.

The tiger fought viciously the entire way back.

Two more soldiers were injured before they managed to lock it inside again, and another man had his face ripped open badly by a claw before the bars slammed shut. The hides were quickly thrown back over the cage afterward and darkness slowly reduced the beast to heavy breathing and the occasional rattle of chains.

But the crowd never calmed.

People continued talking loudly because that was exactly what Alaric wanted. They pointed toward the blood staining the stones and called it proof of their king’s strength. They pointed toward the dead handler and spoke about how real the tiger truly was.

Alaric turned toward his captain general while the noise continued roaring around them. "Send criers through the city," he ordered. "Vaelor’s king is dead. Their army fled and their beast now belongs to Eryndor."

The captain general swallowed heavily before nodding at once.

Alaric’s eyes shifted toward the covered wagon as it was slowly dragged away toward the palace grounds.

"Keep it hungry," he said calmly. "I want it angry... and I want it alive."

Then he stepped down from the platform, mounted his horse and strutted away while the city continued roaring behind him, the story already spreading exactly the way he intended through fear, excitement, and the undeniable fact that everyone there had witnessed it with their own eyes.