Ch 5.6

The cat-woman’s grip on Chloe was deceptively gentle but unbreakable. Chloe struggled, twisting and pushing against her captor’s arms, but the woman held her as easily as if she were restraining a kitten.

Ben, meanwhile, stood alone at the centre of a tightening circle.
Six masked beast-women in identical kimonos surrounded him, while the catwoman positioned herself beside Chloe at the stairs. Each woman held a spell half-formed, their mana shimmering faintly like heat over stone.

Ben’s gaze flicked through them methodically.

Two of the beastwomen mages levitated porcelain dishes and thin throwing knives—each blade trembling with murderous precision.

Two others stood in still, martial stances; no light, no aura, but fists coiled with hidden techniques that warned of sudden, explosive power.

The final two had already shifted—their hands warped into talons and hooked claws, muscles rippling beneath their sleeves as they prepared to pounce.

Hook, line, sinker… I fell for all of it, Ben thought bitterly.
This fucking town is getting on my nerves.

“What is the meaning of this?” Ben’s voice was low, cold.

“Surrender,” the cat-woman replied.
“We’ll be taking you in. Please don’t struggle.”

Ben forced a slow breath through his nose. The walls, the hallways, the sheer number of enemies—this place was a death trap if he gambled recklessly. And Chloe, still pinned against the woman’s chest, was his top priority.

“Fine,” he said at last. “I surrender.”

He raised both hands from his pockets, revealing a fistful of seeds.
Then, slowly, he uncurled his fingers.

The seeds spilled through his hands, bouncing and skittering across the marble tiles. Several rolled right up to the feet of the women surrounding him.

“Grains?” muttered one of the beastwomen, levitating the dishes as she watched them scatter.

“Keep your eyes on the target!” the woman with the clenched fist barked.

The tension eased; the beast-women relaxed—just slightly.

But Ben’s eyes flickered, pupils tightening as he memorised the exact position of every seed.

“Good decision,” the cat-woman said. “Now if you—”

Snap.

Ben snapped both fingers. The floor erupted.
Vines shot from the scattered seeds, coiling in a wild surge around the masked women.

Cries broke out.
“W–What—!?”
“Watch out!”

Several women were yanked off their feet, tangled in tightening green vines. They were instantly restrained, thrashing to break free.

But the transmutants reacted just as fast—claws and talons tearing through the vines with savage strength as they lunged straight for Ben.

He anticipated it and moved the moment they did.

The two women charged with ferocity, claws flashing in a killing dance.
Ben matched their pace, ducking under a slicing talon, twisting past another jab, slipping through their blows as he tried to create distance. But they refused to let him, staying close and relentless.

Ben gathered mana in his legs and leaped skyward—springing cleanly onto the second-floor railing like gravity meant nothing to him.

The beastwomen froze, baffled by the impossible jump.

Ben didn’t give them time to process. He sprinted along the railing toward the catwoman who still held Chloe hostage—

—when a slab of wall rose in front of him, blocking his path.
Followed by—

FWIP—FWIP—FWIP!

Dozens of knives and porcelain shards shrieked toward his throat.

The two beastwomen below were weaving hand signs, controlling the projectiles. Their sisters had already freed themselves, slicing through the last of the vines.

Ben clicked his tongue as the barrage closed in.

He flicked a seed onto the railing mid-stride. It burst instantly into a thick tree—roots burrowing into wood as branches twisted upward.

The rain of knives embedded into bark instead of bone.

“What!?” the girls gasped.

Ben seized the trunk and heaved. Wood groaned as he ripped it free—railing and all—and hurled it down at the women.

“Move!” one of them screamed as the small tree crashed into the floor below.

That’s when another beastwoman stepped forward and clasped her hands together—

THUNK.
An earthen dome surged upward, shielding her sisters.

Ben didn’t stop.

Another handful of seeds slipped between his fingers, and with a sharp flick, he launched them into the rafters. Each seed shot like a tiny bullet, embedding itself in wood and stone.

Then he leapt.

Mid-air, the seeds burst into long, drooping vines. Ben caught the first one, swung, kicked off another, twisting between the hanging strands like an agile phantom. Each swing brought him closer to the cat-woman, closing the distance in seconds.

His fist tightened, knuckles cracking.

“Strength: forty percent—”

But the cat-woman didn’t flinch.

She simply snapped her fingers.

The carpet beneath her stirred like a living beast.
It rippled… then launched upward, striking Ben mid-air.

“Wha—!”

The enchanted fabric wrapped around him in a violent spin—around his arms, torso, legs—binding him like a python. The more he struggled, the tighter it constricted.

“That’s enough out of you,” the cat-woman said, voice cold.

The carpet finished coiling and slammed him into the center of the room. Threads tightened, sealing him in place like a trapped insect wrapped for later.

“BEN!!” Chloe cried, face drained of colour, her voice cracking. She reached an arm out, but the cat-woman’s grip on her waist held her firmly.

Ben strained, every muscle swelling against the enchanted weave—but it didn’t budge.
He was completely restrained.