Surrounded by Five Beast Lords novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Clive’s Rise

Clive’s steps were fast and heavy, but as he approached the wide bed, he suddenly slowed down.

The muscles in his arms were tense. Every movement carried a clumsy kind of care, as if he was afraid he might hurt her by accident.

He bent over, the line of his back pulling taut under his combat uniform, and gently laid the feverish woman in his arms onto the bed.

“Oh… Clive…” Dora’s voice was a little hoarse. Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the front of his shirt as she called his name, sounding like someone who’d finally found her lover after years apart.

Clive dropped to one knee beside the bed. The position forced him to lean over her, leaving almost no distance between them.

Her warm breath, faintly laced with wine, brushed against his face. A female’s scent was already tempting enough, and this was Dora.

She was the woman he’d once wanted but could never have, the woman who’d given him warmth and comfort, then cruelly pushed him away in disgust.

Dora’s grip was weak, but to Clive, it carried a pull he could hardly fight.

He froze there, his blood rushing hot and sharp through his body. Yet at the worst possible moment, an old memory surfaced in his mind.

Years ago, that bright girl had looked at him with terror and disgust, screaming almost hysterically, “Get lost! Don’t ever show up in front of me again, or I’ll do everything I can to kill you!”

Dora’s voice from the past overlapped with her burning, helpless whimper now.

Clive braced one hand against the bed. With the other, he slowly pried her fingers away from his shirt one by one.

His movements were extremely slow and firm, leaving no room for refusal. Yet the moment his fingers touched her hot, trembling fingertips, he paused briefly.

“Dora Southwell, do you know who’s in front of you?” he said in a low and rough tone.

In the dim light, his deep eyes looked bottomless, filled with a tangled mix of coldness, gloom, suspicion, and fierce emotions.

Clive grew up with cheap nutrient drinks, which had a metallic taste. His childhood memories were full of the endless line at the relief station, the barely swallowable paste, and the sharp sting of slicing his palm open while scavenging through scrap metal for usable parts.

On Planet Ashen-III, bullying was part of daily life for kids.

After a good beating and harsh abuses, someone stole the half tube of nutrient drink he’d saved for three whole days.

Government relief was barely enough to matter, and even getting that meant enduring the numb and contemptuous looks from the employees.

One day, the strong guy who always stole from Clive shoved him into the mud again and tried to pry open his hand that was clutching his nutrient drink. Just then, Clive’s fingers brushed against a sharp piece of broken alloy beside him.

He didn’t hesitate and stabbed the shard into the strong guy’s arm.

The guy screamed and let go, staring in horror at the silent boy he’d always looked down on. Clive’s eyes were deep as an abyss, with no trace of fear in them, only a cold, savage gleam.

“Get lost.” Young Clive’s voice was hoarse, and there was blood on his lips.

That day, with bloodstained shards and reckless brutality, he protected his nutrient drink.

Even as a small child, he understood one thing: on this planet, fists were the only rule for survival.

Planet Ashen-III was a waste planet, but the Interstellar Federation Government still cleared out high-rank alien beasts on a regular schedule. They only left behind the weaker ones, mostly level-1 and level-2 beasts.

This place was basically an interstellar asylum. Male orphans with no parents were all abandoned here.

After males awakened their supernatural ability, they had to hunt alien beasts for crystal cores. That was how they maintained the crystal energy in their bodies and leveled up their abilities.

When Clive was five, his supernatural ability awakened. He seemed to grow up overnight. He understood very clearly that if he wanted to survive, government relief wouldn’t save him.

Once he had a small force of his own, he thought of the orphans and drifters back on Planet Ashen-III, the ones no one cared about, just like him.

He offered them food, training, and a place to stay. With iron discipline and a ruthless mind far beyond his age, he brought them under his command.

Clive also named it Blackflame Trading Guild, and it slowly grew stronger.

The word “flame” stood for the brutal will to burn everything to survive. It also stood for a future and a hope that could finally blaze to life.

After three more years, Blackflame Trading Guild rose from nothing into a new underworld force on the Core Planet, powerful enough to make people marvel.

Four years ago, a batch of military-grade C-level energy crystals appeared on the black market. Clive was determined to get them.

It wasn’t just about profit. It was about whether Blackflame Trading Guild could gain a solid foothold in the high-end resource trade.

Apparently, military supplies ending up on the black market meant one thing: some underworld faction had to be working with corrupt people in the military.

Clive traced the crystals to a rival gang, Aurora Syndicate. He guessed it might be a trap, carefully set to swallow Blackflame Trading Guild whole.

Clive played along with their game. He ordered his core members to guard the headquarters, then stormed Aurora Syndicate’s base alone.

With his own hands, he tore through several of Aurora’s top fighters. Lightning and shadow supernatural abilities raged through the place like a storm.

At the time, Clive was already a Level-4 supernatural ability user. A normal Level-5 ability user couldn’t beat someone like him, someone who’d clawed his way out of the darkness through blood and death.

Besides, Clive wasn’t normal. He had two top-tier supernatural abilities.