Beta read and Co-written by Gamercrusher55, Shigiya and Fluffy Slayer
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The recovery mission had gone smoother than Leona ever imagined. She had braced herself for blood and an arduous battle, for the bitter grind of resistance at every corner when she first accepted the task of reclaiming that dark elf second-in-command. Breaking into the Kingdom of one of the Seven Princess Knights, slipping past their soldiers, their patrols, and finally seizing a target hidden in the most fortified depths of Feoh should have been a trial suited to ninja or mages who knew how to cast invisibility. She was neither, but completed the task all the same.
A blade was her only art, and subtlety had never been her closest companion. She always spoke in a frank and to-the-point manner, and lived her life as such, though she could throw people off from time to time with her cunning and intelligence. Still, by all logic, her chances of success without being discovered were… nonexistent.
Yet fortune seems to have boldly favored her in this endeavor. Fate, or perhaps years of accumulated luck, had carried Chloe straight into her lap. Not within guarded halls or behind walls, but with finding her running carelessly outside with barely any clothing… basically begging to be captured right then and there. For just an instant, Leona questioned if this was someone else and had just accidently mistaken her, but the noted features and blonde hair of the dark elf were not easily mistaken nor that there were ever any dark elves in the Kingdom of Feoh. Before she could lose her golden opportunity , she attacked. Chloe was gagged and bound, and in just a short time, she was delivered to camp, the capture secured without the shedding of a single drop of blood, which was pretty rare in her line of work.
Now, surrounded by the watchful gaze of the White Wolves, Leona felt the first breath of relief ease into her chest.
"You sure took a great risk going after her alone, boss. "
The words came from her own second-in-command, Gin, who had held command of their company in her absence. The middle-aged man had not a strand of hair on his body or head, and had a muscular body that made one wonder if he wrestled orcs for a living.
"We'd have been in far worse trouble had we marched in as a group, Gin," she answered, her tone clipped but calm. In truth, she believed it had not been as dangerous as he imagined. The kingdom, after all, was still in the midst of recovering from all the chaos from a few days before her arrival. The collapse of order had left holes wide enough that even a goblin could wander past the gates unchecked. No guards at the front, streams of commoners moving in and out, and the thin line of watchmen that remained too overwhelmed to impose any kind of control at the moment.
It had been a window of opportunity she had no reason to ignore. She'd told those she brought with her to return to camp, then she had slipped in as quietly as smoke through a crack. Dozens of others must have done the same during this time, each carving their own path inward. Word had reached her ears of a breach on the eastern wall, a hole left there with rumours mentioning it happened because of some explosion, an apparent escape attempt from the cause of the incident, still unrepaired. Anyone could have passed through there just as easily. In that light, her act seemed less like recklessly daring and more like taking advantage of a crumbling order.
"So, what now?" Gin asked, raising a sac of mead and taking a long swig before handing it to the busty beastkin.
Leona accepted drinking deeply, the burn settling in her chest before she spoke with a fire within her, blowing out her Fiore memories in a heartbeat. "What do you mean, what now? It's simple. We hold on until we've regained our full strength, head out to our target, deliver the dark elf, get our gold, and finally walk away from all this."
"A hundred gold coins." Gin's grin was a weary thing, the kind that barely lifted one corner of the mouth, almost as if he was tired or was laughing at a joke. Weirdly enough, that did not appear this time. "Enough that a few of the lads will put their swords down for good."
Leona snorted, tossing the empty waterskin aside when she saw it had run dry. "Retire? On two coins each? Don't make me laugh. They'll drink themselves blind and spend the rest on premium whores. By next week, they'll be crawling back with empty purses and shriveled dick. You know them as well as I do. Every last one wants to be rich, but not a single dumbass amongst them holds onto it. Less than a handful have the sense to save it for emergencies. The rest? They're caught in that endless circle of earning and squandering, living like kings one night and beggars the next. I'd wager some are already neck-deep in debt."
She even suspected that some of them were so indebted that even if they were turned into beautiful dark elves through the use of some black magic, not even the highest bidder's price would be enough to repay what they owed.
She shook her head at the thought, though her expression carried no surprise. The only thing that shielded them from collectors was the banner they bore. The White Wolves did not carry the prestige once held by the Black Dogs, but their name still carried weight in the taverns and markets of Serenus. Enough that men thought twice before pressing claims against them.
Gin leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Yeah, but that's not what I meant, I mean, there may be a chance we can even get enough money that it can still satisfy our group's gluttonous nature. Maybe even be able to clear some of those debts those morons have piled up. I was thinking we don't need to settle for the agreed price. Perhaps we can talk that man into giving us more for her."
Her eyes narrowed, the thought lingering without rejection, but after a few seconds of silence, the woman finally shook her head. "The initial reward was fifty. By sheer luck, I managed to press it to a hundred, and that was fortune enough. Don't think for a moment he would add another fifty on top of it."
"No, I'm talking about being paid in orichalcum coins, or a flat fee of a thousand."
"Ugh! Cough! Cough!"
That suggestion nearly made her choke on her new drink pulled from the wooden cargo crate next to her. She had been in the middle of just taking a swallow from the second bottle she had opened, the mead burning warm in her throat, but the next heartbeat, she almost spat it back out. Barely keeping her composure, she fixed the man with a look full of disbelief. "Did someone hit you in the head while I was gone!? Since when have you started to spout out stupid shit?"
But her second continued to press the matter. "Boss, we're not dealing with just any dark elf here. This is the second in command of the Dark Queen herself, and according to you, she's his bastard daughter. One of the biggest slavers on the continent. That puts her worth far beyond a hundred coins. I'm more surprised you even agreed to that price at all. Surely you can see he's cheating us blind?"
"Enough," she cut in sharply. "The contract's already written and sealed. Pushing for more will bring the weight of the guild down on our necks, maybe even the damned crown itself. That lazy old bastard has ties with that high elf brat, no doubt of it. If you let your greed get the better of you, the whole group will be the one paying the price with a rope around our necks."
Her words lingered in the room for a few moments, and he released a long breath before finally nodding. "Of course. It was only a suggestion." Gin turned away, the matter set aside, and left her in the quiet of her tent.
"Finally, some peace." The white-haired beast woman leaned back, letting the warmth of the mead seep into her bones. It barely took the edge off—a long day and an even longer stretch of pent-up frustration gnawed at her, a restlessness she hadn't shaken since leaving camp a few days back. And dealing with that shrill, insufferable woman's demands at dawn? That had only soured her mood more.
She didn't waste time. Leona started unfastening her gear, slipping straps loose and unclasping buckles until leather, cloth, and metal fell away in a cascade of dull thuds against the floor. Her large breasts swung free, unconstrained. With a sharp tug, she yanked the tent's flap shut behind her—not that it would do much to muffle any sound. It hardly mattered anyway. Her men were already deep in their cups, too drunk to notice… though she was certain a few of them had an idea of what was going on but were smart enough to mind their own business.
"I'll have to hire a mage one day to help with this, even if those damn bastards cost an arm and a leg." She needed a barrier spell that canceled sound and kept people out. It was not like she could carry a sealable house with her wherever she went.
(Minor Lime Start)
Leona staggered into her room and let herself collapse onto her bed in her birthday suit, face-first into the soft blanket. The fur felt chilly against her bare skin, sending a shudder up her spine and across her shoulders. "Mmmmmm~!" She just hugged herself, burying her nose in the bedding, letting the heat soak into her bones as she inhaled her own scent, thick and musky.
Her hands didn't waste time. She turned to lay on her back, as she felt the warm fur relax her. Cold fingers cupped her tits, digging in and giving them a rough squeeze, making her gasp and arch her back, upwards, waiting for more. Desire was already burning her up from the inside out.
She slid one hand down her stomach, every muscle in her abs flexing as she brushed her slit. Damp, hot, aching. She raked her fingers right above her entrance, feeling the clean skin, absent of the fur she just saved. Massaging the area, she eased herself into the motions, not stopping until she found her pussy, and then just teased the outer lips until her hips bucked up off the bed.
She threw her legs apart, wide and brazen, and got to work. Her thumb went right for her clit, flicking it over and over, fast, like it was some kind of button she needed to press to win a prize. The other hand hooked over her stomach and started tugging at her tits, rough, zero hesitation, pinching her stiff nipples that were already hard from the cold. The hand working her clit pulled the hood back, just to make sure the air could hit her swollen nub without anything in the way. The pressure had been building, and building, until it just snapped—all heat and sensation-out, frustrating. She tried to clamp on the sensation by pinching her clit, but her fingers were numb; she missed, and it just made her crave it even more.
"Aaah~!"
Her moans echoed inside the tent, sharp and needy. One hand squeezed her nipple, knuckles white, as she bit her lip and threw her head back. The other hand was between her legs, spreading her slick folds apart, fingers working deeper and deeper.
'This is getting worse…' she thought bitterly. Lycan blood. Every damn season, her body turned against her, turning up the heat, making her want more, and more, and more. Touching herself just barely took the edge off. She could get through the day, but the ache never stopped.
She pushed her fingers harder, frustration and hunger pouring into every movement. Circling the outer lips, thumb grinding into her clit, rough and impatient. Her other hand drifted lower, a fingertip teasing the entrance of her twitching cunt, waiting for the right moment.
Her breathy moans filled the little tent, eyes rolling up to focus on the yellow canopy overhead. Her tanned chest rose and fell, sweat beading as she rammed two fingers inside, curling them to rub the sweet spot deep within. She wanted more. She needed more.
'They'll hear me…'
The thought was mortifying. Leona had always prided herself on leading from the front, never showing weakness in front of her men, but now, the idea of them hearing her like this… gods, it made the pleasure stronger, sharper, almost dizzying. She'd considered before, just for a wild second, taking one of the men to her bedroll to scratch this itch, but that would have been a disaster for the team. Awkward, uncomfortable, maybe even dangerous. Better to wait it out. Better to get back to Fullstar and find someone to fuck the ache out of her system.
But right now, that was impossible. Her fingers were moving faster, slick and insistent, driving into herself with a steady, wet slap. The sound filled her little tent, filled her ears, drowned out everything else. Her whimpers were crescendoing into a higher pitch, her soft wolf ears folded back, and her hips were lifting off the fur blankets to chase the feeling, desperate for more.
"Aaaaaah~! Yes!"
Her muscles flexed and rippled under sweat-slicked, tanned skin, her whole body shuddering as the orgasm tore through her. She bit down hard on the blanket, teeth clamped in a desperate attempt to muffle the scream that threatened to burst out. Her fur tail went ramrod straight, trembling violently with every wave of pleasure that slammed into her.
(Lime End)
Despite this release… she still felt unsatisfied; in fact, Leona just felt the fire within her grow stronger, her core burning for more. "Shit… " just as she was about to go for a second round — Leona's ears twitched at a sound, making her body stiffen.
That of an open cage…
"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, anger rising swiftly as fire of a different sort raged within her. "If those bastards are trying to lay hands on that girl, I'll cut off their dicks and make them eat them."
She hurriedly put on what little clothing was at hand, enough to cover herself. Forgoing her armor plating, she quickly grabbed her greatsword, then headed out of her tent. She froze the instant her eyes fell upon the cage. Where there was supposed to be the chained dark elf, was instead an empty cage.
"Hell's teeth, she's escaped?" Leona's voice tore across the camp like a whip. "Wake the fuck up, you idiots! Get up, now! The fucking elf bitch is gone!"
Her roar spread across the entirety of the camp, rousing men from their drunken sleep, though most staggered to their feet still half-senseless like bumbling fools. Gin rushed forward, his face hardening into a mask of fury when he saw the empty cage. Rage stained his cheeks red as he lashed out at one of the mercenaries nearby, a man who had been slumped against the post where he should have been keeping watch.
"Where the hell did she go?" he roared, punctuating his demand with a vicious knee to the man's side. "Didn't I tell you not to drink like the rest? You had one task — keep your eyes on the prisoner!"
"S-sorry, boss!" the man stammered, stumbling up to his knees. "I was only taking a sip—"
"Shut your mouth and find her! If she escapes, then don't expect even a single bronze coin!" Another kick sent him sprawling face-first into the dirt. The others, spurred by fear as much as orders, scattered across the camp and into the shadowed forest beyond, desperate to recover the lost dark elf before her absence sealed their fate.
Leona's gaze settled hard on the cage, tracing every line and joint, willing something useful to reveal itself. There were no splinters, no dented bars, no jagged metal where a lock might have been forced—the thing was like it always was, dirty but unmarred. The thought of magic flickered across her mind, but she brushed it aside almost instantly; the shackles were supposed to suppress anything like that, tight and absolute as they were. She didn't have the patience or equipment for picking locks, not now, not while in that condition, and there weren't any clever signs of tampering anyway. Inward and outward, the cage was undisturbed. So the answer was obvious, then, almost stupidly so: someone else had stepped in and let the prisoner out. Used a key, from the outside, quick and simple.
'That idiot didn't even realize one of the keys was taken.'
Being a Lycan Demi-human carried its share of misconceptions, even among her own people. Stereotypes abounded, most fixated on the supposed strength and speed of her kind, a reputation earned over centuries of surviving harsh lands and brutal conflicts. But the truth was more varied. Some of her kin were blessed with subtle, almost hidden gifts rather than brute force, and in her case, those gifts manifested in heightened senses. Her sight could pierce darkness more effectively than an ordinary human's, and her sense of smell was sharper, able to detect disturbances in the air that others would never notice. Her eyes quickly traced the ground, spotting two distinct sets of footprints leading away from the cage. They were small, not the heavy, booted tracks of her men, or any grown man for that matter, and that confirmed her suspicion beyond a doubt — help had come from another.
"Looks like another woman… Maybe a Princess Knight? Definitely not Claudia Levantine… probably Maia?"
Not that it mattered, she was not afraid of any Princess Knight. Her body moved almost instinctively, muscles coiling and propelling her forward. She followed the trail, not back along the path she had taken, but deeper into the forested ruins where the footprints led, weaving through collapsed stone and twisted debris. "A-argh!"
The quiet ended suddenly with a grunt of pain from the front along with a flash of yellow light. Leona halted, catching her breath just long enough to see one of the white wolf mercenaries sent flying backward, his chest marked by a sizzling wound that smoked faintly from charred flesh and burnt fur. He collapsed unconscious at her feet. She recognized that face as someone stationed to monitor the perimeter.
"Found them," she murmured, her voice carrying a hint of somber relief. Her gaze lifted and locked onto the figure before her, in eyesight of where the man had flown from. For a moment, she expected not a single soul to actually show up to save a person like Chloe. Neither the Princess Knights nor the queen would risk themselves for this person. With one seeing her as an enemy and the other most likely just a replaceable pawn. "Tch, turns out she isn't that expendable to you after all."
Standing before her was another dark elf, tall and commanding without an overtly regal bearing, yet every movement carried the subtle grace of nobility. In her hands, she held a mage's staff with a red gemstone at the top, and her purple armor glinted in the muted light. Purple plates covered her chest, while more protective layers extended from her thighs to her boots, sleek and expensive looking.
'Looks like dragon scales that would sell on the market for a fortune.'
Had she seen her in her full regalia, Leona would have immediately recognized her. Now, here, in the ruins and among the shadows, she still exuded an air befitting a Queen — though that was heavily reduced by the sight of grime and clear signs of exhaustion in her amber eyes. The latter of which settled on Leona with a mixture of anger and scrutiny, yet no trace of fear. Recognition settled over Leona slowly.
"Would you look at that," said the woman after a light chuckle. "The actual dark queen herself came to rescue her servant. It's almost hilarious. The one responsible for this drawn-out war between humans, light elves, demons, and dark elves. You got some balls coming here on your own, knowing full well what we'll do to someone like you."
Olga Discordia, the name carried weight and terror in every whispered rumour by the people and warriors involved in the war. She was said to command vast legions of creatures, endless ranks of orcs, goblins, and demons pouring forth like a tide from the gates of hell. Some are rumored to dwell within her castle, others are born in countless breeding pits deep beneath the earth, where they took the women from nearby villages.
"You're their leader," Olga exclaimed, more a statement than a question. Her eyes swept over Leona's figure, taking in her stance, the tension in her muscles, the subtle readiness in her expression. There was no hesitation as she lifted the staff, its tip aimed with transparent intention at Leona. In that instant, the air between them seemed to worsen, and the Lycan's grip on her greatsword tightened.
"Sure am, the white hair and ears weren't proof enough for you?"
They were called the Shirokami for a reason.
Olga continued, unbothered by the comment.
"For the transgression of kidnapping my trusted subordinate, I should kill you on this spot. But I am willing to show mercy and let you go in one piece. If you refuse, not just you but your men will be reduced to ashes."
Standing there, she could feel the dense mana coiling around the tip of the staff, pulsing with raw power. Leona had no formal training in spells, no inkling of the art of incantations, and yet, having fought mages before, she recognized the cadence of their preparation, how they fought, and she knew from experience how to counteract them. A smirk slowly crept across her face as she reached back and gripped the massive slab of iron resting against her back. "Hm!" With an exertion of effort that slightly strained her shoulders and arms, she lifted the greatsword high, pointing it toward the dark queen and the blonde standing just behind her.
"You may be the dark queen or a goddess for all I care, but that person behind you carries a bounty which we were sent to collect. So I will mirror your own threat back at you. Hand her over, unless you wish to end this encounter as nothing more than a shameful memory, and risk yourself being torn apart while the slaver pays an even higher sum for your capture." The words hung in the air while Gin's earlier conversation began to crystallize in her mind. If the dark queen herself fell, the reward would be monumental. Capturing her had not been her original plan, but the option was available now.
"Lady Olga, please, leave her to me. I can distract her long enough for you to—"
"Are you going to disobey my words?" The dark queen's narrowed gaze cut through Chloe's protest, making the blonde twitch and shrink back against her lieges command. "I said I will bring you back. That is not negotiable."
Leona did not need to wait long for the queen's response. It manifested in the form of magic coalescing at the tip of her staff, a singular point of shimmering light that wavered like a delicate mist before igniting into a searing blend of yellow and orange. The small fireball, no larger than her own head, hurtled toward the beast woman with relentless intent.
'Fast! Did she even use any incantations!?'
While caught off guard by her sheer speed, the white haired mercenary met it by driving her greatsword into the ground, bracing against the wall of steel she erected for protection.
"Oof!" The fire collided with the sword, erupting in a thunderous boom, flames lapping at her skin without leaving a burn, but sent a heat sharp enough to sting her very being. Her body pushed against her greatsword with all her strength, making sure it did not fly away. Her weapon remained steady, a solid anchor in the center of the attack, as the fire surged around her like waves against a stone cliff.
'Fucking damn it, since when could a simple fireball inflict such force?'
The impact felt as though ten of these spells struck simultaneously rather than a single one. She had seen her own men, skilled swordsmen, block ordinary magic with relative ease, yet this spell seemed almost alive, capable of ripping through defenses without hesitation. Still, she was not out of options. The enemy had not closed the distance completely, leaving her a narrow window. She needed to close in fast, strike at the arms or the staff itself, and disrupt the caster before the next spell landed.
'About… now!'
She sensed the opening, gripped the greatsword by the hilt, yanked it free from the ground, and surged forward without hesitation. "Just because you use spells that pack a punch, doesn't mean you can get rid of me that easily!"
Ahead, the dark queen moved, chanting under her breath, eyes closed, face serene. Circles of magic spread beneath her feet, creeping outward across the cracked stones of the ruins and onto the camp itself, the sigils glowing faintly as they traced their patterns.
'Another spell attack?'
The woman did not recognize the spell, her instincts whispering caution. She leapt sideways, ducking behind a stone pillar for cover, bracing for a repetition of the earlier fiery assault. She held herself taut, expecting the same wave of burning energy to follow, yet the attack never came. Silence pressed in around her, filled only with the faint hum of mana lingering in the air and the distant breeze of cold air.
She could hear stone being moved as if gathering to a central point.
She crouched behind the stone, breath steadying, mind racing. Every detail registered: the light shifting across the ruins, the flicker of the magical circles, the steady rhythm of the queen's chant. No way would Olga use a spell that destructive and not expect getting caught within its range.
'It's getting cold,' she noted, seeing the white puff of smoke coming out of her mouth every time she breathed. Spotting then a thin layer of haze coming into existence all around her that covered a clear sight of the ruins and the cape in the distance.
It covered not just the ruins themselves but anything beyond that hidden by a heavy sort of dense fog. "You think you can use this cheap trick to hide!? I can still hear you!"
That was the truth, even if they tried to run, her ears would pick up the sound of their footsteps, just like now she could still hear them. Yet it was not those of fleeing steps, instead,, it appears to be approaching her, sounding like it belonged to something much heavier and bigger.
"Shit!"
She jumped away, just in time for the pillar of stone to be crushed by something, which she immediately identified to be a golem twice her size made out of remnants of stones of the ruin. A single red eye looking back at her. 'Even this one is bigger than a normal golem.'
A spell that could be easily handled by two or three people, yet this was cast by one mage, and its size alone… this one definitely differed greatly from similar spells that never once created something this big; it was at least five meters tall, the top barely peaking over the forest. With the sword in hand, she decided to get rid of it before more of them appeared and overwhelmed her. The most crucial mistake to make against a mage was giving them time to prepare for other spells; time was of the essence, and she needed to get rid of it quickly.
"Ha!"
Forgoing defence, she advanced towards the golem, using her superior speed to dodge its attacks. Its rocky arms came crashing into the ground around her while aiming for her specifically, most missed, save one that hit the space in front of her. The very ground and trees around her are shaking.
'Now!'
Rather than going around it or bypassing it, she instead continued her path, getting on top of the right-hand and running across the rocky arms, making her way all the way to the top, where it would not be able to reach her in time. She jumped into the night sky and brought her cleaver upwards, holding it tightly above her, and then plunging it downwards into a powerful strike assisted by gravity. It slammed below until it struck the red eye, which she knew had to be its core..
Crash!
The thing was cracked, or more like crushed, rather than being sliced by her sword. The fragments scattered around from the force, breaking down within moments, along with the rest of the rocky ruins as they fell to the ground.
"You are—Guuh!" Unfortunately, this moment of victory briefly brought her attention away from Olga, who used the opportunity to cast several elemental spells, all of which managed to impact her body. Fire, water, wind, earth, and a glowing 5th element in the form of electric energy bullets— slammed into her torso so powerfully that she'd probably never forget the feeling.
Stubbornness rose within her, and she refused to accept defeat so easily. So with all her strength, she swiped her greatsword in an arc, sending chunks of the still falling rock flying straight towards Olga herself. Olga flinched trying to cover her face, but the projectiles instead hit her stomach and chest, shattering into pieces. The result of being protected by armor and spells. Leona was sent crashing through several pillars of stone, until she hit a solid wall and slid downwards with more of the stones and rocks falling on top of her.
'What was that about caring about the ruins?'
A light then glowed brightly from her staff,obscuring her.
When the light ended the two dark elves were gone.
It took a moment for Leona to get her bearings in the dense fog; she could hear her men battling all over.
'She prepared magic circles all over prior to our battle, and when she activated them, she simultaneously cast a fog spell at the same time as she was pulling the ruins together to make that massive golem. Once that flame spell failed she also used its second purpose to buy her some time as a distraction. While I was fighting that rock monster, she charged those powerful five elemental spells and slammed them into me.'
Now she was injured and battered, with blood and wounds all over. Still pushing forward, she stood up and rushed towards the center of the battlefield. By the time she reached it, she did not find the two dark elves but instead a white-haired man who stood there with swords in his hand, covered in blood. He had clearly come in from the path she had initially taken to get into the ruins.
'He's not one of my men… wait, white hair, black and white swords, red and black clothes? That's the Archer guy!'
Putting pieces together, Leona felt anger, especially at the sight of blood. If her men had fought this man, then she would show him how the leader repays their enemies. As she was about to demand for his identity, it was already too late.
In the next moment, a powerful wind erupted all around them. On instinct, she jammed her sword into the ground in an attempt to stay down, but to no avail.
…
The next thing she knew…
Her eyes gazed at the clear night sky above and at the wind blowing across her ears as she was descending downwards to the ground, caught between the dark air and the green forest.
"I'll fucking kill that bitch the next time I see her."
{Break}
(Several seconds later)
He had prepared a speech to say when meeting Olga, an entire lecture actually; Basically how foolish and risky her action had been and how she had inadvertently endangered more lives by trying to just save one.
And it was no less than a miracle and a stroke of heavenly luck that they just so happened to run across her sister, whom she had lost. Now that he stood before her as she gave him that smug look as if her actions had saved his life, as if he had no other methods to survive the fall…well it was clear she wasn't regretful at all. So, to get rid of that smirk on her face, he only had one plan that guaranteed him success.
"What are you—duuueeee!?"
Her cheeks were gently pulled by his fingers as if they were marshmallows. Not as painful as a hit to the head or a chastising comment — definitely something that would make Olga feel the most humiliated.
"Sh-shtoph thish ath onsh!"
She screamed as soon as he went ahead and ignored her, continuing to pinch her face right then and there. His actions, no different from an adult teaching a kid a lesson when they did something bad.
"Not one month even went by, barely a little over a week after the attack from the aphrodisiac fumes coming from the sewers, before I had to deal with this," Emiya said to the woman, finding at least some pleasure seeing her be at a loss with his actions. Most likely, by her shocked face, her very being was stuck in the middle of planning on obliterating his body with several dozen spells or to pry his hands away.
"Glare at me all you want, but that won't change anything. And you know as well as I do that your spells won't reach me.
"Rather than showing gratitude for me saving your life, you instead mock me and humiliate me like this. You are a hateful man."
"Hateful? Humiliate? Truth be told, I have half a mind to do much more than this. Do you have any idea how out of hand this entire situation nearly became? Your actions were so foolish, so utterly reckless, and down right suicidal, that perhaps the only proper punishment would be to have Maia strike your bare bottom in front of the other princess knights a hundred times over. I'm also quite certain she would carry out the task with enthusiasm. Or maybe I should give the task to Brynn or someone else. They would find it an honor instead."
He held back the smirk tugging at his mouth when he saw the color drain from the woman's face. Her hands gripped the staff so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her body trembled in quiet fury, and for the briefest of moments her eyes burned with unrestrained rage. He could see it, a metaphorical fire burning her entire body, with the hottest point being in her own eyes.
Archer had angered her beyond normal reasoning, but he wouldn't stop until he said his piece.
"Why did you not simply tell me?" he asked, the humor slipping away from his voice, returning to seriousness. "Time and time again, I have proven I am not unreasonable, that I intend to keep the promises I make. Did you truly believe that I would have refused if it were for Chloe's sake?"
The flame around her becomes a little subdued, like a bonfire instead of a raging inferno. Her gaze faltered at that, lowering in silence. The storm inside her eyes dulled, her earlier anger ebbing into something quieter, more resigned.
"Why ask me this when you already know what I would say?" Olga murmured, her voice carrying both weariness and stubborn pride.
"Because I want to hear it from your mouth," he answered immediately, making sure she understood that this matter was not going to be overlooked. "Was saving her on your own really so important? You didn't even pick the most optimal method for it either; it would have been far easier with me here, heck, you could have asked Celestine to find her, she knew her after all, so her Clairvoyance would have worked. What you did was place both of you in a far worse position, and things could have easily turned into a worst-case scenario."
"... You overestimate yourself, and underestimate me, Archer." She said, sounding less angered. "I am supposed to be the most powerful mage of this era, who has stood against this world for centuries. I may not have my army with me, but the skills I possess are more than enough for a band of small mercenaries. If you think my arsenal of spells can't defeat some lowly kidnappers, then you are sorely mistaken."
'Yet you didn't use that on Vault and the Kuroinu…'
Despite that, if he was being honest, that Kin had certainly seemed like the type not to overestimate Olga; if anything, his confidence implied he had figured out a way to bypass her magic. He wouldn't have been notified of the situation if it weren't drastic enough.
"Even so, there was nothing to lose either by having me tag along. Did you think I wouldn't consider Chloe worth saving? Had there been the smallest measure of trust between us, the faintest attempt at communication, we would not be standing here in this place as we are now. And I will argue, without shame, that I have earned that trust by now."
"I will admit that you have certainly proven your trustworthiness with your words and your actions, but that doesn't mean I will rely upon you with our very lives at every moment. You have said, after all, countless times that you have your own objectives and goals. You have also proven that you will act on them. I may have understood and agreed with your decision in Feoh in the event of a worst-case scenario, but that doesn't mean I will take that option. Especially in concern to Chloe."
He took her words to heart, letting out a sigh as his eyes drifted around them. The forest was dense to say the least, with several sights of the local wildlife hiding away from them. Its overall feel was the same as the forests around Eostia. He had fallen from a great height and caught a glimpse of their surroundings and the overall land beneath. It showed how far the land stretched.
"You're thinking of an absolute bad end. This was just taking down some mercenaries and recovering Chloe. I know how important she is to you, and I am invested in this arrangement between us. I'm skilled enough to get her back with no bloodshed."
"You cannot know that." Olga retorted, her staff digging faintly into the soil as if to anchor herself. "For all you know, that commander had a force and fortress as equally strong as the Kuroinu, if not more. I could not take the chance of any unseen factors putting Chloe in danger."
He did not buy her words one bit, raising an eyebrow while crossing his arms. "Is that really all this was? You thought it would be better to go alone without aid against them. You chose to face these odds yourself. To fight by yourself despite past instances proving otherwise."
A long silence hung in the air between them. Nothing is being said or spoken.
"Yes, I admit I could have chosen another path. However, am I to rely on you at every waking moment of every day? Like a princess locked in a castle, a damsel in distress, always in need of saving? Such a role does not suit me. I am a Queen who commanded armies into battle. A great mage that holds vast and forgotten magic. To rely on you, a man for everything at every waking moment of every waking day, goes counter to my very being!" Olga exclaimed, her emotion-fueled movement causing her chest to move freely as her upper armor was mostly destroyed.
Archer's eyes widened slightly as he got an eyeful of the dark-skinned elf queen standing in front of him, finally having his attention pulled downwards from the explosive motion. The fight had been rough for the dark elf and by the looks of things, Olga's dragon scaled armor hadn't stood a chance. The top half was completely broken, not a scrap left to hide her bare mocha breasts or the dusky pink nips that looked even perkier in the chilly night air. Every time she got fired up during her speech, her tits bounced all over the place, wobbling in the moonlight that slipped through the branches above.
'Come to think of it this is the first time I've seen them…they're certainly…impressive.' His gaze fixed on them transfixed while Olga just stood there in front of him waiting for him to understand her point of view.
He wondered if she was doing this deliberately or if the woman genuinely did not realize she was basically naked in front of him.
Pulling himself out of the gutter, he shook his head, and steeled himself for their conversation once more.
'Says a lot about her armor if she can't even tell whether it's on or not.' That piece he decided to keep to himself, for now.
"In conclusion, you couldn't let your pride stand for me always saving the day. You do realize that we are standing in a clearing far away from Feoh, with pissed off mercenaries hunting for you right now."
She did not back down.
"But ending up here does not mean failure. I could have found my way back to the kingdom, Chloe with me, and we would have returned on our own."
Her eyes locked on his, and her words carried no apology. "I do not deny your strength. To me, you are every bit the questionable existence that beast was. Yet I will not allow myself to lean on you at every step. You may claim otherwise, but we were never meant to be your burden. Chloe is my subject and under my protection. If I cannot safeguard her by my own hand, then what right do I have to call myself a Queen!?"
Archer did not answer. He let the silence breathe long enough, not being blind to what she meant, nor could he wholly deny her conviction. Part of him agreed to some degree with her argument, but the truth remained unbent. Her intentions might have been earnest, but the path she chose was flawed, and the weight of those consequences rested on them all."Hah… I guess I'll just have to write this off as another case of royalty stubbornness and wistfulness. Still, don't you think that your actions were a bit childish?"
"Please don't belittle me, everything worked out in the end, didn't it, and without a certain sarcastic asshole rubbing it in, besides, I need to practice my magic or I'll get rusty… I have a feeling I'm going to need it against the beast." She muttered while looking away, then gave him a quick side glance with that last part as if it was some bait for his understanding.
He shook his head slowly and shifted his attention toward Chloe. She had not spoken a single word through the entire exchange. Her head hung low, her hair shadowing her expression. Not once had she lifted her gaze to meet his.
"So," he said softly, stepping closer, his eyes running over her form with the same care he had given Olga. "You are unhurt. That's good." His gaze traced for wounds or hidden bruises, any sign of harm that needed tending, but there was none.
"I am… sor… I am… I am sorry."
The words slipped so quietly from her that for a moment, he thought he had misheard. His brows drew together, and he leaned to study her face more closely. "What?"
She did not repeat herself at once. Instead, she turned her face further aside, a flush creeping across her cheeks. Whether it was embarrassment, stubbornness, or simply the strain of forcing the words out, he could not tell.
"I-I am s-sorry," she said again, her voice hushed but steady this time. "For… back then, for losing my temper. For snapping at you and running away. For letting my emotions get the better of me, and for being ungrateful for what you've been doing for us."
He stood still, silent, watching her. His eyes widened just slightly, not from disbelief but from the sheer rarity of the moment. During the next several breaths, he said nothing, his stare fixed on her until she shifted uneasily, her discomfort growing under the weight of it.
Then, to her surprise, a sound escaped him. A low chuckle, quiet but unmistakable, broke the stillness.
The shame on her face flickered into something else, irritation sparking as her blush deepened. Her earlier contrition gave way to exasperation, as though his reaction had undone the fragile effort she had made.
"What is so funny!?" she snapped.
Archer chuckled, not letting the least bit of it get to him, ruffled by her anger. "Hahaha. I was just thinking it might not be such a bad idea to let you get kidnapped more often. It makes you more agreeable… even a little more mature. For a moment, I almost believed I was being tricked by someone posing as you."
The blonde elf's mouth fell open, disbelief tightening her features. Her body trembled, fists clenching as though she were about to strike him across the jaw. She surged forward with that very intention, and Archer's brows rose as he shifted, prepared to block the incoming blow. But the strike never came.
Instead, she threw her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest. The sudden shift in mood startled both Archer and Olga, neither expecting violence to transform into an embrace. Her voice came muffled, trembling as it rose from where she had buried herself against him.
"I know I must sound selfish and ungrateful after everything that has happened. But thank you… Thank you for saving me and Lady Olga, for chasing after her when she came after me, and making sure she is safe."
Chloe's words trailed into silence. Olga, who had begun to speak, caught herself, lips parting and closing again as if her heart were caught between several warring emotions. Her eyes softened, conflicted light flickering within them.
"I want to claim that I alone am enough to keep her safe. That my strength and vigilance are enough to protect her. But after what has happened, I would be a fool to keep insisting on that lie. So I ask you this. From now on, please continue to keep her safe as you have done. I cannot offer much in return, but if it lies within my power, I will repay you without hesitation. Even if you are human."
Archer tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Now there is the Chloe I know. For a moment, you were starting to sound almost unlike yourself. But I think you misunderstand me. I did not come here simply to rescue Olga. Despite what I may have said before, this woman has already proven she can manage on her own. She will not die from thirst, nor be trampled by a mob, nor devoured by beasts."
Olga stiffened, her brows knitting. "You make it sound as if I were some helpless child, incapable of even walking alone, yet stubbornly clinging to life."
"No," Archer said plainly. "Only that you can be too spoiled and too prideful for your own good." His tone carried no cruelty, only frankness. He left her bristling at that remark, offering no apology, and turned his gaze back to the elf who still held onto him. "What I meant to say is this: I also came to save you and bring you back. Do not mistake my actions. But Radomira has taken a liking to you, just as she has to Olga. With you two around, I don't have to look for babysitters when off doing other things. And your queen will not stand by idly, risking her life again and again every time you throw yourself into danger. She needs someone as capable and devoted as you by her side, you know why. If Olga was right about one thing, the most in all this, it is that I can't always be there to look after you both."
Chloe lowered her head. She could not find words, but instead felt something stir inside her chest. It was a confusing, but restless warmth she did not wish to acknowledge. Her lips twitched as though to betray a smile she struggled to hold back.
"In any case," Archer said, stepping back and breaking the moment, "we can speak more once we return to the kingdom." He turned toward Olga then, gesturing toward the path behind them. "Someone you know is waiting not far from here, where we stood only a few moments ago. Depending on how Maia decides to handle the matter, they might still be there."
Olga blinked. "Excuse me?"
"On our way to find you," Archer explained, "we stopped at a small village. While I was asleep, a certain woman attempted to pry into my mind using her magic. She tried to turn me with her charms, to make me fall hopelessly in love with her and bend myself to her will. She was skilled, too, I must admit."
Both women reacted at once. Chloe looked startled, her eyes wide with disbelief that such a thing could even happen. Olga, on the other hand, let out an audible scoff.
"Let me guess," she said dryly. "Whoever this woman was, she failed because of that strange constitution of yours. You woke, broke her hold, and killed this would-be assassin? Or better yet, you made sure to show her who is in control and had a night of debauchery?"
"Not going to comment about the last part, but killing her? Hmph! Had I done that, you would have stabbed me a hundred times." As the words left his mouth, the dark elf fell into silence at once. Her amber eyes fixed on him with a confusion that was deeper than before.
From what little she had ever shared about this woman, it was clear to him that Olga had lost Mistiora a long time ago — centuries perhaps, though he had never pried. The day she revealed Mistiora's face to him, he wondered if she had done it out of desperation and possibly as a last resort. Refusing to admit that she had died long ago, he couldn't tell.
"Why in the world would I have killed you for something like that?"
"Because you specifically asked me to keep her alive."
"—?"
"I found her."
He could see the words work their way through the queen's mind, watching her expression twist and change in real time. Anger, disbelief, hope, denial—each flickered across her features before being devoured by the next.
"What?" she whispered again, though now her voice trembled as if she feared to believe him.
"It was only recently. In a town on my way here. Like I said, she tried to charm me—"
He never finished. In a blink, Olga was upon him. Her face, pale with something perilously close to desperation, was a few inches from his own. Her hand seized his collar with a force that betrayed the agitation running through her.
"Are you mocking me?" Her tone had changed completely, sounding almost like a mixture of hope and disbelief.
"While I do enjoy teasing you and the others from time to time," he replied evenly, not really bothered by her rough handling, before his face altered into absolute seriousness. "I'm not in the mood to make those kinds of jokes right now."
"That's not what I meant!" she cut him off as her voice rose. Her hands trembled now, clutching harder, and her agitation spread through every word. "T-Tell me what you did to her! If… I-I, she is truly the one you claim she is, I swear on my name… on everything that I am, that if you so much as touched a strand of her hair or drew blood from her body… I will make you pay for it in ways that you cannot possibly imagine…"
At that moment, he couldn't help but find himself smirking at what she said.
"Gratitude would be more fitting than threats," he said without flinching, utterly unmoved by her fury. "But I suppose that is not something you are accustomed to showing." His eyes narrowed faintly. "No, I did not kill her. Long story short, she used charm and illusion magic, which I managed to break." Her hold on his collar tightened, wanting to hear more, but he was not here to give every little detail. "I did nothing to her. I nearly did, I won't deny it, but she escaped. And when she did, the town descended upon her, believing her to be you. The mob chased her like a hound after prey, ready to see her burned alive at a stake. I had to move quickly to keep her from such an end."
"Because of… me?" The words fell from Olga's lips, hollowed of strength.
"Why do you look surprised?" he asked. "Have you forgotten who you are? You remain one of the most hated and feared figures on this continent. If someone is even mistaken for you, they meet a death as cruel as it is certain. Your reputation, your infamy, has affected nearly countless dark elves around the world, if not already. Just be grateful we were there."
Color drained from her face. Her grip slackened, and at last she released him, stumbling backward as though the floor beneath her had given way. Her balance faltered, and it was only Chloe's quickness that kept her from falling.
"My queen!" Chloe's voice rang with panic as she caught hold of her arm. Her eyes darted to Olga with unmistakable worry.
"Where is she now? I need to find her!" Olga asked after regaining her breath. Her voice was steadier, but urgency threaded through every syllable. He had never heard her speak like that before, stripped of her usual composure.
"When we reached the forest's edge, your cousin broke ahead without a word," he explained, his tone measured unlike Olga's, whose pupils dilated. "Much like you when you charged in to save Chloe. I tried to follow, but the fog was thick, and the woman was difficult to track. Before I could reach her, I faced the white-haired woman, the leader of the White Wolves. And after that, the next thing I knew was being dragged here by teleportation."
"No."
Olga's face turned a sickly shade of white. Her body jerked as if struck, and she spun to flee, but his hand closed around hers before she could take a step. His grip was not harsh, yet unyielding enough to hold her in place.
"Haven't you learned your lesson? If you rush out there alone again, you will only invite more danger upon yourself. Listen carefully. Before I was drawn into this place, I was certain she was nowhere near me. It's unlikely she was carried here with us. Maia should be able to reach her, and with Radomira's aerial view and Celestine's clairvoyance guidance, now that she's seen her, they can return her safely. You may have doubts about any of those women's intentions, but doubt is not the same as incapability. She has strength of her own."
Olga shook her head violently, her eyes wide and fevered. "No, you don't understand. The ruins are not ordinary stones. They are the remains of a temple built by the ancient elves, a place of worship for their goddess. More than that, the temple was forged to act as a gate, a portal that connected to a specific destination. When I triggered the spell, it encompassed the entirety of the ruins, not merely the chamber where you and that mercenary leader fought. Do you understand what that means?"
He stilled, his expression hardening. "A large-scale teleportation magic."
The words left a bitter taste. If the spell had seized the ruins in their entirety, then far more had been taken than just himself and Olga. Others could have been dragged across the boundary, even the woman they spoke of, perhaps his own allies as well.
To be hurled this far into the skies or into some scattered corner of the world was a death sentence for most. Yet he could not say with certainty how the spell judged its targets. He had seen no others upon his arrival, no other person that fell alongside him.
Still, Radomira had wings enough to bear her burden, and Celestine could guide her. If they, too, had been snared within the spell's radius, there remained a chance. But if Mistiora had been pulled into this place as well, then another chase awaited him, one more pursuit without a clear trail to follow. It brought him back to the same point as the beginning.
"Running out there without a plan will just make things worse. You have no way of tracking her. If you did, you would have used it long before now to find Chloe. Calm yourself, Olga."
"How can I remain calm when she may be lost in this place?" Olga's voice cracked, heavy with panic. "Do you not see the danger? The forests are thick with creatures. If she crosses their path—"
"For goodness' sake, Olga." His tone grew louder. "I may not know Mistiora's life in detail, but even I can tell she is not the helpless child you imagine. You lost her centuries ago, and yet she endured all that time without you. Alone, she survived. She can use magic that can bend the will of others through her looks, and under the right circumstances, she could charm a few to protect her — plus she's quick on her feet. What she needs is not your frenzy but your patience. Running without direction will only bring more danger to her and to us. What we must do is figure out where we are, find the path out, and reunite with the rest of the group."
She fought against his words with every part of herself. Her body leaned against him, her eyes clung to the distant treeline, and the lines of her face were tight with defiance. Yet beneath it all, the truth bled through. She no longer looked like the dark queen, no longer carried herself with regal composure. She looked instead like a woman stripped bare, a sister or mother whose heart was fraying at the seams.
"You have endured centuries of waiting for her," he said calmly, urging her to calm down through his words. "A few more days will not break you. But rashness, if you give into it, might steal her from you again and stretch that waiting into eternity. So calm down, and think with clarity."
"He is right, Lady Olga." This day seemed intent on stacking surprise upon surprise. Chloe, of all people, had taken his side. She stood there with a guilty look shadowing her face, a hesitation in her voice that betrayed her discomfort. "You are not in your best condition right now. I can tell the teleportation spell drained a great deal of your mana, and as your loyal servant, it is my duty to see to your well-being. There may still be mercenaries around."
Barraged from both sides by reason, the woman was forced to abandon her first impulse and drew in a slow breath, regaining her composure. "Fine. You are right. I am sorry. I just… I just cannot believe you actually found her. And that she is here of all places."
"Another apology? This day keeps getting better," he said with a sad grin, his eyes flicking to the sun before settling on the opposite horizon. He raised a hand and pointed. "On my way down, I noticed a broad body of water. It looked something like a pond feeding into a river. If we can reach it, we can follow its course and eventually find our way out. Given how often demons have been appearing since your loss, lingering here until nightfall will only make things worse. Our best chance is to start moving now."
The two dark elves exchanged a glance. Neither spoke, but their shared nod was enough. Together, they stepped beyond the half-collapsed ruins and began their eastward march. For much of the journey, silence stretched between them. Olga said nothing, her thoughts locked away behind tightened lips, while Chloe drifted to his side. She walked close, close enough that her shoulder nearly brushed his, her eyes darting toward him now and then. Yet words remained withheld.
"Is there something you wish to say to me?" he asked at last, his voice low, practical.
"You… you came upon Leona, did you not?"
"I would not call it much of a meeting. We barely crossed words, no more than a handful of seconds."
"Oh." Her head dipped, disappointment tugging at her features.
"Did you expect me to kill her on the spot?"
Chloe gave a small, almost reluctant nod.
"I considered it," he admitted. "There was hardly any time. But if she were to insist on continuing the fight, then I would have gone there. I can tell you dislike her. Perhaps more than dislike."
"She was the one who kidnapped me," Chloe said, the words tight in her throat. "She is also… insufferable."
"More so than me?"
"Y-You are insufferable, but not compared to what I've been through recently. Forget everything I said to you before, turns out you're not half-bad!"
"For you to take it back so easily, I cannot help but wonder what that woman said or did to you, to make you react like this."
Chloe didn't back down this time. Her eyes hardened, and she let the words fall. "She was about to deliver me to that man. The one who claims to be my father. Mandeville."
He had heard it whispered before, carried from one mouth to another in half-spoken warnings. Olga herself had disguised herself as him when speaking to Grave in his final moments. A slaver, not unlike the kind he had crossed blades with before, but this one dealt almost exclusively in dark elves. Among traders in human lives, Mandeville was spoken of having one of the largest slave rings, rivaling even the so-called Pig Brothers. Perhaps worse, if the man's personality is taken into account.
"I think he might also be after Mistiora," he said, his tone measured.
"What?" Olga's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing in shock. "He knows about her?"
"I did tell you, did I not? She was hunted through the village by those who mistook her for you. But at first, they were also searching for a particular dark elf with a price on her head. I cannot be certain, but there is a chance it was his doing."
At that, Olga's fists clenched. Anger rippled from her like heat from smoldering stone, palpable and sharp. "That wretched beast. Even now, he dares to claw at the lives of those I hold dear!" Her voice rose, louder than before, emotion boiling over for a second time, shattering the fragile calm she had been trying to keep.
"Will he keep sending people after us, now that he knows you are still alive?" he demanded.
"Without a doubt. He will not stop. Even after I pulled Chloe from his reach, he sent mercenaries, again and again, despite being completely out of his reach. At times, he funded the Black Dogs themselves, hoping they could crush me swiftly. He cannot stomach defeat, and he will never stop trying."
Listening to all of it, Archer found the picture forming with unpleasant clarity. This man would only prove another thorn to contend with if not dealt with swiftly. The true irritation lay not in his presence alone, but in the reach of his influence. Despite living far beyond the borders of this kingdom, he had the wealth and persistence to stir unrest even across the breadth of the continent. With men like him, it mattered little if a band of mercenaries was cut down to the last—another would simply be hired and sent in their place. Archer did not care to imagine such distractions piling atop the burden already posed by Draco.
"I am surprised you never made him your first target, rather than striking at the Seven Kingdoms," Archer remarked, his tone caught between curiosity and reproach.
"Because he is as difficult to pin down as a cockroach, and just as difficult to kill," she replied in a heated growl. The words carried a weight of memory, the sort drawn from bitter campaigns and hard years of pursuit. Her eyes flickered with recollection, and for a moment it seemed she was no longer speaking to him, but to the ghosts of a war she had fought against all of Eostia. "He would slip past my lines in the dead of night, only to reappear weeks later in some distant land. And when I finally pressed forward, gaining ground inch by inch, that coward fled further, into Fullstar, where I could not follow without being stopped by the Seven Kingdoms armies."
"I see," Archer said quietly. "Out of curiosity, what more can you tell me of him? Beyond what I have already heard?"
She drew in a breath, preparing her answer, when a noise interrupted. It was faint at first, carried across the distance like an echo: shouting, the ring of metal striking metal, voices clashing in alarm. Archer raised a hand for silence.
"Quiet," he muttered, gesturing for them to stay low. His gaze narrowed as he turned toward the direction of the commotion. "Do not make a sound."
He moved forward alone, cautiously. The noises sharpened as he closed the distance: the voice of an enraged woman, frantic cries calling for the guards, and the violent splash of water striking stone. Entwined among the chaos rose a familiar voice, strained, pleading that the uproar was only a misunderstanding.
.
.
.
(A few minutes earlier)
This was a mess.
Radomira had known, from the moment they first stumbled across that woman in the village, that she would only bring them grief. The signs had been there from the very start. First came when the shameless skank attempted to seduce Archer, as though his attention was some trinket to be stolen. Then, without even the faintest hint of apology, she ran off, causing chaos. Next, she found her with a goblin, and the less said about that, the better. Now, even though she saved her, that woman still refused to communicate, absolutely barring herself from saying a single word, and not to mention, she clung to him like a shadow. And lastly, when common sense should have reined her in, she had instead chosen to rush headlong toward a camp brimming with dangerous figures, throwing herself into the jaws of disaster without support or plan.
If the choice had been left to Radomira alone, she would not have hesitated to let the woman face her fate. Capture, injury, or death, and all from their own repeated choices — such things would have been the natural consequence of her own reckless arrogance. Who in their right mind charges blindly into peril, expecting to emerge whole and unscathed? She learned that lesson in Fiore.
Yet while Radomira was tempted to act on her harsher instincts, she held it back. There was Olga to consider. For Olga's sake, one of the few women Radomira truly cherished in this world, she forced herself to understand Archer's decision, to take the burden of protecting the foolish woman onto her own shoulders. And so, against her better judgment, she remained at her side.
After the blinding white light, the Tiefling had found herself flung into a new location. Mistiora, for her part, had somehow gotten herself entangled almost immediately in a writhing knot of sentient tentacles, grotesque appendages sprouting from a tree that seemed alive.
With a dry gaze, she watched as the latter struggled with some occasional moans escaping her lips, several tentacles circling around the dark elf's thighs, breasts, and other places… 'Disgusting', she'd rather not be the subject of that attention…still, watching this made her daydream of a certain white haired man doing the same thing to her… For a second, Radomira had been tempted to let her stay bound, to leave her to reap the consequences of her stupidity. But the nagging voice within her, one that sounded more and more like Archer with every passing day, wouldn't let her walk away.
She both loved and hated him for that. Loved him for shaping her toward a better path, hated him for weakening her resolve to sever her compassion where it was undeserved. Still, if it pleased him, she would swallow her distaste and lend her hand, no matter how much bile it left in her throat.
"If you so much as run from me again," she growled as she freed her companion after injecting the tree with her aphrodisiac, causing it to convulse for several seconds before passing out in exhaustion. "I will bind your hands and feet, gag your mouth, and flood your body with so much of this pink fog that the slightest touch will reduce you into a helpless mass of writhing flesh, drowning in ecstasy every passing second."
She meant every word.
The dark elf that was just rescued did nothing but stare at her, cheeks flushed from what she'd been through.
Together, though unwillingly bound, they pressed on into the strange new landscape. At last, a landmark appeared: a river, gleaming beneath the sun. Radomira halted, taken aback by its beauty. She had seen many waters in her life, but none as pure as this.
"The water… it's so clear," she murmured, just staring at it, unable to look away. Like glass, almost, but not cold or sharp or hard. Just… pure, really, with nothing clouding it up at all. Little bursts of color flickered near the edges, tiny fish darting about, and they didn't even bother to swim away when she brushed the water with her hand. That was enough to make her even more curious, so she leaned in close, scooped up a little, and drank. It took her a second to even process it. "…It's so good," she breathed out, a bit surprised. Wherever they landed, at least it wasn't going to be some awful place where everything was dead or toxic. At least for now, their fate wasn't cursed.
She then turned to her companion, who stood quietly behind her, not uttering a word even after she saved her. Radomira scowled.
"Hey, stupid. If you're thirsty, drink. I will not drag you across half a world to find Archer, only to explain to him how you collapsed from thirst."
But she did not move. Instead, her eyes narrowed on the river's center. "No. There is someone here."
The words had barely left her lips when the water erupted. A loud splash rang out, sending droplets glittering through the air. Radomira turned, curved sword in hand, pilfered from the junk falling around, and beheld a sight she had not expected.
A young woman rose from the depths. Her body curved with somewhat generous hips, but where she lacked below, she made up above, her chest full and heavy, her skin glowing with the sheen of water and sun. Golden hair fell in long sheets down her back, each strand catching the light like silk threads spun from daylight. Her ears tapered to elegant points, her face smooth and youthful, and in that instant, she seemed carved from the ideal of beauty itself.

"Celestine…?" Radomira breathed the name without thought. For a moment, she wondered if the goddess herself had deigned to appear before them. But almost at once she knew better. This was no Goddess Reborn.
The illusion shattered when the figure's eyes opened.
For a long moment, neither woman spoke. They only stared across the shimmering river, and silence stretched thin between them.
"Kyaaaaaaa!" Then, suddenly, the girl's eyes went wide, and she released a shriek so piercing it rattled through the area. "Assassins! The Dark Queen has sent assassins to kill me! Where are you, you useless fools!?"
Radomira stiffened, caught between disbelief, shock and frustration with everything that happened. "Wait, wait, wait! No, there has been a misunderstanding. We are not—"
"Look out!" Mistiora cried, pulling her back with a desperate tug. The arrow hissed through the air, striking the spot where she had stood only moments ago. A cold shiver rippled through her body, the sharp edge of fear settling in her chest as she realized the arrow would have likely pierced her skull had she been a moment slower.
"There are more of them!" she gasped.
Shapes began stepping forward from the shadow of the treeline, one after another, moving without a sound. They materialized like ghosts, slipping out of some place she hadn't even noticed, and as they drew closer in the fading light, the air seemed to grow heavy all at once. Their armor was cut in the same style as the kingdom's knights but, looking at them, it was impossible to ignore how… off they seemed. Their ears ended in sharp points, their faces carved with angles that were too precise, too inhuman. Each of them already had weapons in hand: bows drawn, arrows notched, swords catching what little light there was and flashing it around.
"Protect the queen! Capture the assassins!" one of them barked, the command slicing right through the air.
Panic hit her fast. She threw up her hands, tripping over her own words in desperation. "No! We're not assassins! You have it wrong! Don't shoot!" But if anything, the frantic waving only made those light elves tense up even more, their eyes narrowing and weapons ready.
Her hand clutched at Mistiora's arm. The only thought was escape, and her wings shifted, preparing to lift them from the ground. Yet the knights moved with uncanny speed, reacting with precision that she hadn't seen from other knights in Feoh. Just as the air gathered beneath her, something lashed tight around her ankle, yanking her down mid-flight.
Looking back, fury burned in her chest. The rope was no rope at all, but a sinuous growth from one of the forest's trees, the same cursed plant that had seized Mistiora earlier.
"I should have cut you down when I had the chance!" she hissed, getting pulled down violently and barely managing to free herself. But it was too late as her back struck the ground, and she found herself temporarily incapable of moving due to the pain.
Dozens of swords were leveled at her throat, their sharp edges close enough that she felt the prickle of air disturbed by their points. Each breath risked brushing against cold iron.
A voice rose over the pond. "That damned Dark Queen," it said with venom. "She grew too comfortable waging war against the Goddess Reborn. Now she dares to aim for Fullstar itself? I will see her head separated from her shoulders for this transgression. My army will sweep away her demons and burn her castle to the ground!"
The girl stepped into view, dripping water as she climbed from a shallow pond nearby. A towel clung to her frame as she tried to conceal herself, though the effort did little to hide the flush of her cheeks. Her expression carried both embarrassment and fury… definitely not Celestine.
"Those horns…," she continued, her eyes narrowing. "So the dark elves have thrown their lot with demons. As if the filth of the underworld was not enough, now they stoop lower and tie themselves to a wretched Tiefling race. I should have expected no less."
"Please, let me explain—"
"Silence!" the elf snapped, her words sharp enough to cut. "I have heard enough. Off with their heads. I will not tolerate their lies again."
Frustration welled in Radomira's chest as she stood surrounded, ignored as though her words held no weight. She felt cornered, left with no choice but to rely on her power. Her mind raced. If she could scatter her aphrodisiac long enough to flee, perhaps Mistiora would be able to resist it for a bit, given she had similar powers. Even if the latter started to grope her or kiss her mid air, it would be manageable, as long as she did not try to push her down and strip every bit of clothes!
Her breath quickened. Energy swirled within her, and she began to gather it. The risk was obvious. If she let it spread too far, if she gave in fully, she might lose control of it entirely, like in Feoh.
Just as she was about to conjure her powers, another voice cut through and stopped her at the last second.
"I advise your people to keep still," it said calmly. "If you value your queen's life, stand back."
The command struck the clearing like a hammer blow. The light elf's startled cry followed it.
"The queen?" one elf blurted.
"Another assassin!" another shouted.
Their formation faltered. Every blade wavered as eyes turned toward the pond. Standing behind the blonde elf, Archer held Kanshou's blade against her pale neck. The steel rested so close it gleamed with the reflection of her hair.
"Another dark elf!"
"No," one of them corrected, his voice rising with surprise. "Look at his ears. He's human. There are no males among dark elves."
"Release our queen at once!" The command spread quickly through their ranks, but none advanced. Hundreds of bows were raised, strings drawn tight, arrows trained on Archer's head. Yet not one dared release, for the queen's throat rested within the arc of his blade.
"We've caught more of them!" a fresh cry rang from the forest.
Another group emerged, barely armored elven warriors. Shackled between them walked Maia and Celestine. Though bound, they looked largely unharmed. The guards driving them forward stopped abruptly, shock written plainly on their faces as they stumbled into the scene before them.
Celestine's gaze fixed immediately on the elf Archer held hostage, recognition lit her features. The blonde elf's eyes widened in turn.
"Wha… what the hell are you doing in my kingdom, Celestine!?" she demanded, each word laced with irritation.
The Goddess Reborn chuckled softly, as if being held by soldiers carried no weight at all. Her eyes glimmered with calm familiarity as she looked down at the other elf.
"It has been a long time, has it not… Evelyn Moinard?"
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The next 5 chapters of Snafu, and my other Fate fics (Fate Coiling Sword with 3 chapters, A Fake Familiar Reborn with 3 chapters, Steel Eyed Faker soon to be 3 chapters, Hound having 3 and To love a sword having 4 chapters) are already available on my P@treon. With 4 more Broly chapters at /NimtheWriter. Also, I post commissioned arts on each story, already posted a few on an Archer's Promise, Broly and Snafu.