Chapter 13: Things Are Going Wrong

“Miss Onyxia, we appreciate Sister Traka’s and your kindness. But your destination should be the Silent Forest, the dark elf gathering place, to attend the Dark Elf Festival. We are going different ways, so there’s really no need — “

She winked at Celia.

“I never intended to attend the festival. After all, I’ve already found the only goal of my trip.”

Celia was completely speechless, not knowing what to do for a moment; she couldn’t exactly force Onyxia to leave.

Just then, Ilyas, who was sitting in front of Celia, moved.

She did not look back, nor did she speak.

However, her body moved with a sense of determination, inching back until she was completely nestled in Celia’s embrace.

Her back pressed tightly against Celia’s chest, to the point where they could feel the faint vibrations of each other’s heartbeats.

Then, she tilted her head slightly, leaning her soft cheek and the top of her pale gold hair against the hollow of Celia’s neck and collarbone, gently yet undeniably.

The movement was obvious; Ilyas had no intention of hiding it.

In this delicate situation, it served as an extremely clear declaration.

Celia’s body stiffened instantly.

She could clearly feel Ilyas’s warm breath brushing against the skin of her neck, smell the clean, fresh scent of the girl’s hair, and feel the heat radiating from the body in her arms.

Ilyas even rubbed her forehead gently against the crook of her neck, a subtle touch that carried an intimacy of claiming ownership.

Onyxia took all of this in.

Her charming, fox-like eyes narrowed slightly.

The smile on her face did not fade but rather deepened, though the initial bright enthusiasm had now shifted into a deeper sense of amusement and a knowing scrutiny.

Her gaze lingered for a moment on the way Ilyas clung to Celia before slowly moving to Celia’s completely frozen face, where even the tips of her ears had turned red.

“It seems Miss Ilyas… is quite dependent on you, Celia.”

Celia felt as though her cheeks were about to catch fire.

Ilyas’s sudden, intimate gesture flustered her even more than Onyxia’s blunt words, especially given how sensitive her body was.

She wanted to push away slightly but feared hurting Ilyas’s feelings.

Wanting to stay as they were made her feel as if she were sitting on a bed of needles, especially with the warm weight in the crook of her neck and Onyxia’s gaze upon them.

“Let’s get moving. We’ve stopped for too long.”

Celia changed the subject.

She pulled the reins, spurred the horse, and charged forward at the lead as if she were escaping.

Onyxia let out a light chuckle and steered her mount, following at an unhurried pace behind and to the side.

For one whole day, Celia remained highly tense.

She kept her back straight, trying her best to minimize the surface area of physical contact with Ilyas in her arms, though the effect was negligible.

Ilyas was also unusually quiet.

She spent most of the time leaning in Celia’s arms as if she were processing and observing.

From time to time, her gaze would steal toward the elegant and composed fox-folk woman beside them, which made her heart feel a bit stifled.

As the sun dipped into the west and the sky darkened, Celia chose an open, leeward spot near a stream as their campsite.

She practically jumped off the horse, her movements quick and hurried.

“We’ll stay here for the night,” she announced briefly.

Her voice was husky from the travel, but it carried a sense of relief above all else.

She began to briskly unload the bags, taking the simple tent and cooking utensils from the horse’s back.

Her movements were so fast they almost left afterimages, as if being busy could fill the suffocating atmosphere.

Onyxia gracefully slid down from her Land Bird.

She watched Celia’s near-avoidant busyness with interest.

She didn’t step forward to help, nor did she approach the spot where the fire was about to be lit.

Instead, she leaned against her mount, took a leather waterskin from her pack, and drank slowly.

The tent was soon pitched, and a small campfire began to crackle, dispelling the evening chill of the forest.

Their simple dinner was finished quickly in silence.

Celia was the first to stand up, grabbing her longsword and a thin blanket.

“I’ll take the first watch.”

She didn’t even look at Ilyas or Onyxia’s expressions as she walked straight toward a black rock on the edge of the camp that overlooked most of the area.

“You two rest first.”

As soon as she finished speaking, her figure vanished into the shadows behind the rock, her speed suggesting she was fleeing.

By the campfire, only Ilyas and Onyxia remained.

Ilyas hugged her knees and looked in the direction Celia had disappeared, the firelight reflecting in her eyes.

Onyxia gently swirled the waterskin in her hand, finally breaking the long silence.

Her voice sounded exceptionally clear in the night air, carrying a lazy tone.

“So, Miss Ilyas, can you tell me now — just how much do you know about Celia, and about the dark elf race?”

Ilyas immediately became alert and countered, “What about you? You’ve only known Celia for one day, and yet you’re acting like this…”

The smile at the corners of Onyxia’s mouth deepened, as if she had long expected this reaction.

She cut off the end of Ilyas’s sentence.

“Aren’t you harboring the same thoughts as I am, Miss Ilyas?”

“Who — who said that!”

Ilyas acted as if she had been poked in a sore spot.

She subconsciously avoided the other woman’s smiling gaze.

Her pale gold hair seemed to lose some of its luster under the firelight as her voice involuntarily lowered, filled with fluster.

“I’m just… just… she saved me, and I’m just grateful to her.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course it is!”

Ilyas straightened her back, as if to add weight to her words, and her voice rose slightly without her realizing it.

“It’s truer than anything!”

“Don’t react so strongly.”

Onyxia chuckled, which only made Ilyas’s ears feel hotter.

“Relax, Miss Ilyas. The two of us… aren’t competitors just yet.”

“What do you mean?”

Ilyas looked at her in confusion.

Onyxia sighed softly.

“It seems you don’t know the first thing about the dark elf race.”

“Who said that!”

As if stung by those words or eager to prove something, Ilyas reacted almost instantly.

She turned around and began rummaging through her pack with near-desperate haste.

She pulled out a book that wasn’t too thick.

“I’ve been studying.”

“Then take a good look at it, Miss Ilyas.”