Chapter 5: Journey to the Beast Kingdom

  The golden rays of the setting sun filtered through the tall windows of their estate, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany floors. Zen carefully folded his enchanted map, its magical ink shimmering faintly as he tucked it into an inner pocket of his midnight-blue coat.

  "Dawn," he had declared. "We leave at dawn."

  Billy nodded, his weathered face set with determination as he gently wrapped his new magical Tommy gun in its leather covering. The weight of the weapon in his hands felt right—like it had always been meant for him.

  "I'll get the supplies ready," Billy said, his voice unusually soft as he reverently placed the wrapped firearm on the table.

  The night passed in a flurry of preparation. Magical storage bags were filled with provisions, enchanted gear sorted and organized, and plans meticulously discussed. As the two partners worked, their newly created estate hummed with the subtle energy of anticipation—the very walls seeming to sense the adventure that awaited them beyond its protective boundaries.

  When the first hint of dawn painted the eastern sky in pale pink and gold, Zen stood in the courtyard, his tall figure silhouetted against the growing light. His pristine white hair danced in the morning breeze, contrasting sharply with his elegantly tailored dark attire. Despite his blindness, his face was turned toward the horizon as if he could see the path that lay before them.

  "Ready to raise some hell in the East?" Billy asked, emerging from the stable leading two horses—magnificent specimens with coats that gleamed like polished onyx. His new Tommy gun was secured in a specially designed holster on his saddle, easily accessible but safely tucked away.

  Zen's lips curved into a subtle smile. "The East isn't ready for us."

  With practiced ease, they mounted their steeds. Billy adjusted his wide-brimmed hat against the rising sun, the silver concho band catching the light. His revolver rested comfortably against his hip, a familiar weight that had seen him through countless battles.

  "You know," Billy drawled as they urged their horses forward, "I've never been much for traveling. Always preferred to let trouble find me where I stood."

  "And now?" Zen asked, his unseeing eyes somehow knowing exactly where to look.

  Billy grinned, the expression transforming his rugged features. "Now I reckon I'm looking forward to finding some trouble of our own."

  The journey east was arduous, spanning vast terrains that changed dramatically with each passing day. They traversed sun-scorched plains where the heat shimmered above the ground in wavering mirages, crossed raging rivers whose waters roared with primal fury, and navigated dense forests where sunlight filtered through canopies in dappled patterns.

  On the evening of their fourth day, they made camp at the edge of a crystalline lake. The water's surface reflected the emerging stars like a perfect mirror, creating the illusion of infinite space above and below.

  "We'll reach the Beast Kingdom by midday tomorrow," Zen announced as he gracefully lowered himself onto a fallen log. His movements were fluid, betraying none of the fatigue that should have accompanied days of hard riding.

  Billy, who was busy building a fire, paused to stretch his back. "About damn time. My ass is getting acquainted with this saddle in ways I never wanted."

  The blind mage chuckled, the sound rare enough to make Billy glance up in surprise. "You'll like the Beast Kingdom, I think. It's... unique."

  "Unique how?" Billy prodded, striking his flint. Sparks danced in the gathering darkness, catching on the dry kindling.

  Zen's expression grew thoughtful as the flames began to grow. "It's a civilization unlike any in the Western territories. The Beast Folk have developed a society that blends magic with technology in ways even I find fascinating."

  "And what about this 'Eastern Jungle Dungeon'?" Billy asked, feeding the fire until it crackled merrily. "Reckon it'll be as nasty as the Western one?"

  "Worse," Zen replied without hesitation. "The Eastern Dungeon is ancient—predating written history. The creatures within have had millennia to evolve and adapt."

  Billy's eyes gleamed with excitement rather than fear. "Good. I'd hate to get bored."

  As night fully descended, they shared a meal of magically preserved provisions. The fire cast dancing shadows across their faces, highlighting the bond that had formed between these two unlikely companions—a dimensional mage from another world and a gunslinger with a legendary reputation.

  "Get some rest," Zen advised as they finished eating. "Tomorrow will be... interesting."

  Billy didn't argue, settling into his bedroll with his revolver close at hand. "Wake me if anything tries to eat us," he murmured, already drifting toward sleep.

  Zen remained awake long after Billy's breathing had evened out, his enhanced senses detecting subtle movements in the darkness beyond their camp. Nothing dangerous—simply the natural rhythm of the wilderness. As he meditated beneath the canopy of stars, his mind reached outward, touching briefly upon the distant energies of the Beast Kingdom.

  Something stirred in response to his magical probe—a powerful presence that seemed to acknowledge him before withdrawing. Zen's brow furrowed slightly. Their journey was about to become even more complicated than he had anticipated.

  The Beast Kingdom revealed itself gradually as they crested a lushly forested hill shortly after midday. Unlike the ramshackle towns of the Western territories or the stone fortresses Zen had known in other realms, this city was a harmonious blend of architecture and nature.

  Massive trees had been shaped through centuries of careful magical cultivation to form natural structures, their trunks and branches woven together to create living buildings. Between these organic wonders stood more conventional structures of stone and wood, but even these were decorated with intricate carvings of animals and adorned with vibrant flowering vines.

  "Well, I'll be damned," Billy whispered, slowing his horse to take in the sight. "Never seen anything like this."

  As they approached the main gates—enormous slabs of polished wood inlaid with gleaming metal in patterns resembling animal tracks—Billy tensed noticeably. His hand drifted toward his revolver, a habit born from years of caution.

  "We stick out like a sore thumb," he muttered, eyeing the inhabitants visible beyond the gates.

  Zen nodded in agreement. "For once, I have to agree with you."

  The streets beyond were teeming with Beast Folk—humanoid figures whose features blended human and animal traits in countless variations. Some had the pointed ears and graceful tails of felines, others the robust builds and loyal eyes of canine lineages. Still others displayed traits of more exotic creatures—scales gleaming beneath their clothing, feathers adorning their arms, or antlers rising proudly from their brows.

  "Uh oh, looks like trouble is coming our way," Billy warned, his keen eyes spotting the approach of what could only be guards.

  Four Beast Folk in matching armor of lacquered leather and polished bronze strode purposefully toward them. Their leader, a muscular individual with the distinctive ears and fangs of a wolf, raised a hand in a clear command to halt.

  "HALT!" the guard barked, confirming Billy's expectation. His voice carried the rough edge of a growl beneath the words. "State your business in the Beast Kingdom. We do not take kindly to humans around here."

  Billy's face darkened with immediate annoyance. "Listen here, you old ra—"

  "We mean no harm," Zen interrupted smoothly, placing a restraining hand on Billy's arm. "We're simply here to conquer the Eastern Jungle Dungeon."

  The lead guard stared at them for a moment before barking out a laugh that revealed impressively sharp canines. "Are you crazy? No one has conquered it in over 400 years. Like a pip-squeak and a hick like you could conquer it!"

  Billy's hand twitched toward his weapon, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Who you calling a hick, you nasty-looking mutt?"

  The guard's fur—barely visible along the nape of his neck—bristled visibly. "What did you just call me, you dirty Western hick?"

  "Excuse my friend," Zen intervened again, his voice carrying a subtle harmonic that commanded attention. "He's very short-tempered. But I should mention that this 'hick' and I conquered the Western Dungeon a few months ago."

  The declaration brought an immediate hush to the surrounding area, as even passersby stopped to stare at the two strangers. The guard's expression shifted from aggression to skepticism.

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  "There's no way in hell you're the two that conquered the Western Dungeon," he challenged, though with less certainty than before.

  Zen's expression remained placid. "How can we prove it?"

  "Show me something from the dungeon," the guard demanded, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

  Without hesitation, Zen raised his hand, palm upward. The air above it shimmered and distorted as he reached through the fabric of space itself. His fingers closed around something unseen, and when he withdrew his hand, he held a grotesque object—the preserved eye of a chimera, its pupil still slitted despite the creature's demise months prior. The magical essence that had sustained the beast in life continued to pulse faintly within the organ, causing the iris to shift through unnatural colors.

  Zen tossed it casually to the guard, who caught it reflexively, then recoiled as he recognized what he held.

  "Enough proof for you?" Zen inquired mildly.

  The guard studied the eye with newfound respect, then carefully handed it back. "Hmm, I guess it is." His tone had transformed completely, now edged with reluctant deference. "I'll have to ask you to speak with our king before granting permission to enter the dungeon."

  Billy sighed dramatically. "Please, like we need your—"

  "That's fine," Zen interrupted for the third time, subtly stepping on Billy's foot. "Take us to him."

  The guards formed a loose escort around them as they entered the Beast Kingdom proper. The streets within were even more impressive than they had appeared from the gates—wide avenues paved with stones of varying colors arranged in mosaic patterns. The air was filled with exotic scents from food vendors and flowering plants unlike any Billy had encountered before.

  Beast Folk of all varieties went about their business, though many paused to stare at the unusual human visitors. Children—some with tails wagging excitedly, others with whiskers twitching in curiosity—pointed and whispered as they passed.

  "Friendly bunch," Billy muttered under his breath, his hand never straying far from his weapon.

  "They have reason to be cautious of outsiders," Zen replied quietly. "Historically, humans haven't always treated them well."

  At the heart of the city stood a structure that defied easy description. It wasn't merely a castle but something far more organic—a living fortress that appeared to have grown from the earth itself. Massive trees formed its foundation, their trunks twisted together in impossible configurations that spoke of centuries of magical cultivation. Stone and wood had been integrated seamlessly into this natural framework, creating a palace that seemed both ancient and alive.

  The guards led them to enormous doors carved from a single piece of wood so dark it was nearly black. Intricate inlays of precious metals and gemstones depicted scenes of ancient battles and peaceful prosperity, telling the history of the Beast Kingdom through art.

  With a gesture from the lead guard, the massive doors swung inward silently despite their obvious weight. The throne room beyond was a cathedral-like space, its high ceiling supported by living trees whose branches intertwined to form natural arches. Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows set high in the walls, casting colorful patterns across the polished stone floor.

  "Presenting the two Dungeon Slayers of the West, Your Highness," announced one of the royal guards stationed within the throne room, his voice echoing impressively in the vast space.

  "Ah yes, send them in," replied a deep, resonant voice from the far end of the chamber.

  As Zen and Billy approached the throne—an impressive seat carved from what appeared to be a single massive gemstone of deep amber—they could see its occupant more clearly. The Beast King was an imposing figure with the features of a tiger. Golden eyes with vertical pupils regarded them with regal intensity from a face framed by distinctive striped markings. His powerful frame was draped in robes of crimson and gold that complemented his natural coloration.

  Following Zen's lead, Billy knelt awkwardly on one knee before the throne, though his expression suggested he found the gesture distasteful.

  "Please, no formalities," the king said, waving a hand dismissively. His claws caught the light as he moved, reminding the visitors of the natural weapons he possessed. "My name is Kemp, Kemp Goodwin the Third."

  "It is our pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," Zen replied, rising gracefully to his feet. "My name is Zen Bloodson. My partner here is Ernest, but please call him Billy the Kid, or simply Billy."

  King Kemp leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes studying them with undisguised interest. "So, what brings you to my kingdom, Dungeon Slayers?"

  "We seek your permission to conquer the Eastern Dungeon," Zen stated directly, meeting the king's gaze despite his blindness.

  "Hmm, I see," Kemp mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. The gesture revealed glimpses of the striped markings that extended down his neck and presumably across his entire body. "I shall grant you permission on one condition."

  Billy shifted his weight impatiently. "And what's that?"

  A smile spread across the king's face, revealing impressive fangs. "You have to bring along our finest assassin, the Black Psycho."

  Zen's normally impassive expression faltered momentarily. "WHAT—excuse me, did you say the Black Psycho?"

  "Yes," Kemp replied, tilting his head curiously. "Is there some issue?"

  Before either visitor could respond, a presence materialized from behind one of the massive pillars that lined the throne room. The figure seemed to coalesce from the shadows themselves—a man dressed entirely in black, his face concealed behind a featureless mask of the same color. A curved kuris hung at his hip, and strapped across his back was a sledgehammer of intimidating proportions.

  "Ah, there you are," King Kemp greeted the newcomer with casual familiarity. "Aio Aka, the Black Psycho. I was wondering when you would show up."

  Zen's unseeing eyes narrowed slightly as he focused his extraordinary senses on the assassin. Though physically blind, his magical perception allowed him to see things beyond normal vision—including the essence of a person's soul. What he found in the Black Psycho was disturbing—a darkness void of life and emotion, a spiritual emptiness that spoke of profound trauma and loss. Yet, surprisingly, there existed a small glimmer of blue—a tiny spark of hope buried beneath layers of pain and vengeance.

  "He will be accompanying you two on your journey to the Eastern Dungeon," King Kemp announced, seemingly oblivious to the tension that had suddenly filled the room. "And conquering it with you."

  Billy and Zen exchanged a subtle glance, their nervousness about their new temporary party member evident despite their attempts to conceal it. Nevertheless, they bowed respectfully to the king and took their leave, following the silent assassin as he led the way out of the castle.

  The streets seemed to clear before them as they walked, Beast Folk hurriedly moving aside at the sight of the Black Psycho. His reputation, it seemed, was well-established and deeply feared in the Beast Kingdom.

  Only when they had left the city behind and ventured into the dense jungle that surrounded it did the assassin finally speak, his voice muffled slightly by his mask but carrying a surprising depth and clarity.

  "So, humans," he began, effortlessly cutting through the thick vegetation with his kuris, "it seems both of you are quite powerful."

  Billy cleared his throat awkwardly. "I've, uh, heard a lot about you, mister."

  Zen stepped forward, his senses fully focused on their new companion. "Mr. Aio, or should I call you the Black Psycho? May I ask you something?"

  The assassin continued walking, his movements graceful despite the challenging terrain. "Yes, what is it?"

  "Is your real name, by chance... Moo Kwan?"

  Though they couldn't see his face behind the mask, Zen could sense the assassin's soul flare with shock at the mention of the name—like a sudden burst of lightning illuminating a dark sky.

  "H-how do you know that?" the Black Psycho demanded, stopping so abruptly that Billy nearly collided with him.

  "Let's just say," Zen replied carefully, "we're like you. We got reincarnated, just like you."

  The assassin's posture shifted subtly. "Really?"

  "From what Zen told me," Billy interjected, "you died like a badass."

  "And who are you?" the Black Psycho asked, his attention shifting between the two strangers who somehow knew his deepest secret.

  "My apologies for not telling you," Zen said with a slight bow. "My real name is Goto Hajime. I died trying to save people from a robbery, but in this world, I'm known as Zen Bloodson. My friend here is THE Billy the Kid—though I'm assuming you know how he died. He was shot by a sheriff when he was unarmed."

  They continued pushing through the jungle as they spoke, the dense underbrush giving way before their determined advance. Massive leaves broader than a man's chest drooped from towering trees, occasionally releasing small cascades of collected rainwater as they were disturbed. Vibrant flowers unlike any seen in the Western territories bloomed in profusion, their exotic fragrances filling the humid air.

  "Ah, I see," the assassin replied after a moment of consideration. "My name is Moo Kwan, Commander of the 66th Division of the Korean Special Forces. And you both know how I died, I'm assuming."

  He paused, seeming to process something. "Wait, if he is truly Billy the Kid, how are we talking to him? Didn't he die nearly... 90 years before my time?"

  "Although we've been through this," Zen explained, deftly stepping over a gnarled root that protruded from the jungle floor, "there's this deity... when I first met him, it was like he was improvising. Billy didn't get to meet him—he was just kind of born here. Did you meet Zag?"

  "You mean the god in the plane of nothingness?" the Black Psycho asked, his voice conveying surprise despite the mask that concealed his expression.

  "Ah, I see, so you did meet him," Zen nodded. "Basically, since his plane isn't bound by the rules of time and space, anyone who has died can access it."

  "I understand now," the assassin replied thoughtfully. He reached up and removed his mask, revealing features that were predominantly human but with subtle bestial qualities—slightly pointed ears peeked through his dark hair, and when he spoke, hints of elongated canines were visible. "From now on, just call me Moo or Aoi. In this world, I'm called Aoi—I'm a Beast Folk, a mix between a tiger and wolf. My appearance is mostly human except for my ears, and I have a tail, but I usually hide it."

  As his mask came away, they could see his eyes—intense and haunted, carrying the weight of memories from two lives filled with violence and loss. Yet as the jungle's dappled sunlight played across his face, there was something else visible as well—a subtle determination, a flicker of the hope that Zen had sensed in his soul.

  Billy adjusted his hat, studying their new companion with newfound interest. "Well, ain't this a peculiar gathering? A reincarnated gunslinger, a dimensional mage, and a special forces commander turned Beast Folk assassin. The dungeon won't know what hit it."

  For the first time, a hint of a smile touched Aoi's lips. "Perhaps you're right. But don't underestimate what awaits us. The Eastern Dungeon has claimed countless lives over the centuries."

  "So did the Western one," Billy replied with a confident grin, patting the Tommy gun secured at his side. "Didn't stop us then, won't stop us now."

  As they continued their journey deeper into the jungle, the canopy above grew thicker, filtering the sunlight into ethereal green rays that pierced the humid air. In the distance, barely visible through the dense vegetation, the silhouette of a massive structure began to take shape—an ancient tower emerging from the heart of the jungle like a monolith from another age.

  The Eastern Dungeon awaited, its secrets and dangers concealed within stone walls that had stood for millennia. For the three reincarnated warriors, a new chapter in their extraordinary journey was about to begin—one that would test not only their combat abilities but also the bonds forming between these unlikely allies.

  Zen felt the familiar surge of anticipation that preceded every significant challenge. "I believe," he said quietly, "things are about to get interesting."