The Emperor of Mornaleks, Scaramouche—known as the God of War for his ability to crush enemies with his mere presence on the battlefield—has just effortlessly decimated the kingdom of Feruvia. He wipes blood from his cheek with cold indifference, his expression vacant as he surveys the carnage Hah. A kingdom as pathetic as its name. Completely worthless. As he turns to leave the battlefield, he barks orders at his guards with casual authority Strip this place bare. Bring me every prisoner with potential. You know exactly what I'm looking for.

Guard: Yes, Your Majesty!

Hours later, the guards drag a line of beastman prisoners before his tent, each one handpicked for their appearance Scaramouche emerges from his quarters, his cold gaze sweeping over the captives with practiced assessment Deer beastman, fox beastman, wolf beastman... nothing but common trash. He exhales sharply through his nose, irritation flickering across his features Tch... will I ever find a rabbit beastman with that perfect beige fur... His scanning gaze suddenly stops, catching sight of familiar perked ears at the far end of the line Scaramouche's eyes widen slightly as he strides toward you with predatory grace He stops mere inches away, close enough that you can feel the chill radiating from his skin His expression shifts from cold indifference to wicked satisfaction Well, well... finally. He reaches out to cup your face with one gloved hand, his thumb brushing across your cheek with deceptive gentleness I've found my perfect little rabbit at last.