The leader of the dark elves dropped from the tree without rushing, his long coat swaying gently behind him. There was no fear or urgency in his steps.
She froze. She didn't move a muscle. She didn't expect another enemy, especially not the leader of the group.
He didn't speak right away.
Just walked toward her, slowly, calmly.
When he stopped in front of her, he reached out and took the Shooter from her hands with ease. Clara didn't even resist. She couldn't.
His fingers moved across the weapon, turning it over, checking the parts.
"Hmm…" he muttered, more to himself than to us. "Very interesting. It has a trigger. Shoots faster than a crossbow."
There was something almost curious in his voice. Like he'd just found a toy.
Then he smiled, a quiet, unsettling smile.
"I was only paid to kill the noble girl," he said. "But now… I've found something more fascinating."
His eyes lifted.
And for the first time, he looked at Marci and Sophia.
Marci was still lying on the ground, wounded.
Sophia still crouched beside Marchi, magic faintly glowing at their hand.
His eyes were sharp.
None of them moved.
Then, he glanced over his shoulder, toward the tree.
"When are those idiots going to get here?" he muttered.
He was talking about his subordinate, the four other elves that still have fun with Cloe, the tiger beastkin.
Suddenly, despite the pain shooting through his body, Marci pushed herself to his feet.
His legs trembled. Blood still stained his clothes. But he stood, with his bow in hand, an arrow already notched and aimed.
"Marci, no—you can't!" Sophia cried out, panic in her voice. She knew how badly Marci was hurt.
Marci didn't look back.
"...I have to please protect Lady Clara," she whispered, eyes locked on the enemy before them.
The leader of the dark elves turned at the sound, his expression flickering with mild surprise. Then he laughed.
"A woman in disguise?" he scoffed. "You're weak."
Marci's eyes widened slightly.
"...How did you know?" she asked, her voice low but steady.
The dark elf sneered, casually twirling the weapon in his hand.
"Isn't it obvious?" he said coldly. "Women are soft. Hesitant. Weak. I've killed enough of them to know. And violated even more."
His words were sharp. Cruel. Disgusting.
For the first time, Marci's secret was out.
Sophia's eyes widened, confusion flickering across her face as the dark elf's words echoed.
'A woman in disguise…?'
But Marci didn't flinch. Didn't explain.
Instead, she moved.
In one swift motion, she loosed the arrow.
It flew straight toward the dark elf's head.
But he was fast.
He tilted his head just in time, and the arrow missed, brushing past his cheek with a sharp hiss of air.
"Oi! That's dangerous!" he shouted with a grin, clearly amused.
Marci's voice rang out, loud and clear.
"I left my womanhood behind a long time ago!"
Her eyes burned with fury, not just at him, but at the world that had tried to break her over and over.
"Then I'll show you just how weak a woman really is!"
With a savage grin, the dark elf lunged.
In a blur of motion, he appeared right in front of her.
And then, the punches came.
Heavy. Brutal. Like fists slamming into a sandbag.
Marci tried to block them. She managed to deflect one, two but the third strike slammed into her side, right where her ribs were already broken.
Pain exploded through her body.
"Ahhh…!" she screamed, stumbling back.
Her knees buckled, vision shaking.
"That's what men endure!" the dark elf laughed cruelly, raining down more punches like she was nothing, just a target to break.
Sophia couldn't watch.
"Stop!" she cried out, rushing forward.
Clara followed without hesitation.
But they never got the chance to help.
With two quick strikes, the dark elf drove his fists into their stomachs. The impact sent them flying backwards, gasping for air, and then everything went black.
They collapsed.
"No…!" Marci choked, forcing herself upright despite the blood in her mouth.
"Don't hurt them… please…"
Her voice cracked with desperation.
The dark elf ignored her plea. He loomed over her, sneering, his face twisted in cruel amusement.
"Let's remind you what you really are," he said coldly.
He reached down and tore at her clothes, ripping away layers until he exposed the bandages tightly wrapped around her upper body. A harsh laugh escaped his throat as he pointed.
"See? No matter how hard you try to hide it, you're still a woman. Hahaha!"
Marci didn't flinch.
Instead, she spat, right in his face.
The gob of blood and spit landed squarely on his cheek.
He froze.
Then, his expression twisted into rage.
"You little bitch!"
His hand closed around her throat, tightening like a vice.
Marci gasped, her hands clawing at his arm as he lifted her slightly off the ground. Her lungs burned. Her vision darkened.
Her mother's face flashed through her mind, gentle, worn, smiling through bruises.
The stories she used to whisper at night echoed in her ears.
'One day, a hero will come for you, Alice.'
Her lips moved softly.
"...my… hero… will… come…"
Then a sudden impact.
The hand around her throat vanished.
Marci dropped to the ground, gasping, clutching her neck as air rushed back into her lungs. She coughed violently, every breath like fire, but she was free.
The dark elf staggered back, caught off guard by the blow that had knocked him off balance.
"Wha—" He turned, eyes wide.
And then… he laughed.
A low, surprised laugh that didn't quite hide his disbelief.
"Well, well… I thought you were dead from that poison."
Standing in front of him was Alex.
His eyes burned with golden light and furious.
"What did you do to them?!" Alex shouted, his voice shaking with anger.
The dark elf sneered.
"Why didn't you just die after I killed you the first time?" he said, blood dripping from his lip as he smirked.
"You should've stayed dead."
Behind them, Marci tried to lift her head, but her body wouldn't listen. Her limbs were heavy. Her chest felt tight.
Her vision swam—but through it, she saw him.
Alex.
And with the last of her strength, she whispered.
"...Alex…"
Then everything went black.