The blade flashed again, and another man collapsed, clutching his throat.
Celia’s figure flickered among the human traffickers, every pause bringing a spray of blood.
The Scarface leader realized something was wrong the moment Celia moved.
He had seen his share of tough characters, but a Dark Elf this efficient and ruthless was far beyond his expectations.
The geyser of blood from the first subordinate’s severed head completely extinguished his last shred of hope.
“Stop her! Get her!”
He roared, but his feet were already backing away, his gaze darting toward the woods at the edge of the camp.
While two of his crazed subordinates lunged at Celia with a howl, momentarily blocking her line of sight, the Scarface leader spun around.
Without hesitation, he plunged into the forest without looking back, leaving behind his money bag and weapons on the ground.
Celia caught the fleeing silhouette out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t immediately break away to give chase.
There were still a few more to deal with in front of her.
With a flick of her wrist, she parried a descending machete and thrust her blade into the man’s ribs.
Simultaneously, she pivoted to avoid a heavy sword from the other side and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to the attacker’s chest.
Within moments, only a handful of enemies remained standing in the center of the camp.
Those left were terrified by the one-sided slaughter, their hands trembling as they gripped their weapons.
Celia gave them no chance to surrender. In a place like this, with people like these, mercy was nothing but foolishness.
Cold light flashed repeatedly until the last of the resistors slumped to the ground.
She flicked the beads of blood off her blade and looked toward the direction where the Scarface leader had vanished.
After sliding her blood-stained longsword back into its scabbard, she slowly raised her empty right hand, fingers slightly spread, palm facing the fugitive.
Her lips moved soundlessly, chanting an ancient and tongue-twisting Elven incantation.
A visible purple aura rippled through the air, condensing into a crackling ball of Lightning Magic above her palm.
She locked onto the frantically fleeing figure.
Even with the dense forest in the way, his presence was as clear as a torch in the dark thanks to the resonance of the elements.
The next moment, she thrust her palm forward.
A bolt of Lightning Magic, as thick as an arm, shot out from her palm!
***
Deep in the dense forest.
The Scarface leader was running with everything he had.
His lungs felt like they were on fire, but his heart was filled with the ecstasy of survival and a bone-deep fear of that Dark Elf.
‘Just a little further,’ he thought, ‘if I can just get a little further…’
Suddenly, his train of thought screeched to a halt, and he collapsed to the ground.
Back at the camp, Celia slowly lowered her hand and walked toward the cages in the shadows.
Her pace was much slower now; she even took care to suppress her sharp aura and used magic to clean the blood off her clothes.
Three or four figures were huddled inside the cage.
Under the moonlight filtering through the bars, their long, pointed ears and pale green hair were clearly visible.
They were obviously Wood Elves, and their faces were youthful; the oldest didn’t even look like she had reached adulthood.
They clung to each other, their dirt-streaked faces covered in tear tracks.
Their eyes were filled with a lingering terror as they looked at Celia, their bodies trembling slightly.
Celia stopped in front of the cage door and slowly knelt down to eye level, a gentle smile appearing on her face.
Instead of the Common Language, she spoke in the Elven Language, her voice soft.
“Don’t be afraid, children. You are safe now.”
The oldest Wood Elf girl stared blankly at her, seeing those familiar pointed ears and hearing her mother tongue.
Tears began to fall once again.
Celia raised her hand, her blade light passing through the iron lock with ease.
She pulled open the creaking cage door.
The moment the door opened, the girl practically lunged out, wrapping her arms tightly around Celia’s neck.
She buried her face in Celia’s shoulder and sobbed, pouring out her heart in broken sentences.
“Sister… I was so scared…”
Celia held her steady, pulling the other sobbing little elves close to her with her other hand.
She continued to comfort them in a low voice.
“It’s all right, it’s all over now…”
After a long while, she looked up to meet the gazes of Onyxia and Ilyas as they approached.
“They were kidnapped while playing near their village. They’re just children. They said they’ve been locked in that cage for 2 days. Their home shouldn’t be far, but they’ll never make it back safely on their own.”
Onyxia crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping over the elf girls huddled around Celia before glancing at the bloody scene of the camp.
Her brow furrowed.
“What do you plan to do? Take these children with us, or find a way to send them back? I’ve checked—based on our current path, it’s at least 1 week’s journey to the nearest Elf Border Outpost. If we take them, we can only escort them to the border and hand them over to a patrol… assuming nothing goes wrong along the way.”
“But we are hiding from people right now. A larger group makes for a bigger target, making us easier to spot. Plus, to avoid pursuit and prying eyes, we can’t take the main roads. If we could, it would cut the travel time by more than half and the risk would be much lower. But as it stands — “
Ilyas spoke up, her voice quiet but firm.
“We have to send them back.”
Onyxia looked at her.
“I know you want to help them. But what about the Scroll you’re carrying? That matter cannot be delayed.”
Ilyas met her gaze and shook her head.
“The Scroll is important, but I am a Saintess. The first step of being a Saintess is to reach out to those who suffer. I cannot violate my oath.”
Celia made a suggestion.
“Perhaps… we could split into two groups? One team can escort them back, while the other continues the journey with the Scroll.”
Onyxia immediately shook her head.
“No. Splitting our strength in a place like this is far too dangerous.”
While the three were debating, the elf girl who had been clinging to Celia looked up.
She couldn’t understand the unfamiliar words, but the grim expressions on the faces of her three saviors and their rising voices filled her with intense unease.
She asked timidly in the Elven Language, her voice wavering as if she were about to cry, “Sister… are you… are you fighting? Is it because of us… are we a burden to you?”
Her words made the other little elves shrink back immediately, looking at the trio in panicked confusion.
Celia snapped back to her senses, realizing their argument had frightened the children. She immediately reined in her emotions.
“No, child, we aren’t fighting. We’re just discussing the best way to get you home safely. I’m sorry we scared you.”
The girl’s emotions settled slightly, but she was still full of anxiety about whether they could actually return.
She whispered, “Sister… can we… can we really go home safely?”
“Of course, I promise you.”
“Really? Before… whenever my sister and I went to the neighboring village, we would wait for Master Hawk’s merchant caravan to pass by and hitch a ride… are we going to hitch a ride back to the village this time too?”
Celia suddenly had a thought and pressed for more information.
“A merchant caravan? Are there many caravans in your area?”
“Many, and they go all over the place.”