"...it's not perfect yet, but it's pretty helpful!" (Epsilon)

"I see," (Cid)

*crack*

*crack*

"We are doing our best to increase its range as much as we can, but it will take some more time," (Epsilon) said.

As Elana slowly comes back to consciousness, she hears a very sweet voice filled with gentleness and servitude, accompanied by a very grave voice.

When she realizes that she is no longer tied up, she instantaneously pushes herself off the ground and sits down, trying to observe her surroundings. Due to the soreness of her skin, she is sure of one thing: all of that was not a dream, which makes her more anxious to know if she has been rescued.

As she tries to look at her surroundings with her blurry vision, she immediately identifies the location as the same place where she had been before losing consciousness.

Suddenly, she feels something below her hand. When she looks at it, a sense of horror and calmness envelops her heart as she is sure that it is the same mask worn by one of her captors, but now it is covered in blood flowing like a stream from the direction of the stones where the companion of the person who had been violating her body had been sitting.

She lifts her head, her eyes widening in shock as the gruesome scene comes into focus. The entire area is painted with the color of blood, creating a macabre canvas that stretches as far as she can see. Severed limbs lie grotesquely twisted and discarded, some still twitching with the last remnants of life. Chunks of flesh are strewn about, as if torn apart by some monstrous force. The ground is slick with blood, reflecting the moonlight in a haunting shimmer. The metallic scent of blood and the stench of death fill the air, making it hard for her to breathe. Her heart pounds in her chest as the full horror of the massacre sinks in, every detail etching itself into her mind with chilling clarity.

"What th~!!" (Elara)

All of her senses scream at her to run as soon as she sees several silhouettes sitting on the rocks. The figures are shrouded in darkness, but their presence is unmistakable. Their eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, lock onto her with the predatory intensity of hunters sizing up their prey. Each movement they make is deliberate and menacing, exuding an aura of lethal precision. She can almost feel their gaze piercing through her, assessing her every move, calculating the exact moment to strike. The oppressive silence is broken only by the distant crackling of the dying fire, adding an eerie rhythm to the horrifying tableau before her.

Elara's breath quickens, her chest tightening with fear as she tries to process the sight. The silhouettes remain unmoving, their eyes unblinking, their presence a constant reminder of the danger that surrounds her. Her legs feel like lead, but the primal urge to survive begins to overpower her paralysis. She knows she must escape, but the weight of the terror grips her, holding her in place for a moment longer. The cold night air chills her to the bone, but it is the icy fear that truly freezes her in place.

She gathers every ounce of strength and courage, ready to bolt at any second. Her heart races, her muscles tense, and her eyes dart around, searching for any possible escape route. The silhouettes shift slightly, a subtle movement that sends a new wave of panic through her. She can't afford to wait any longer. The time to act is now, before they decide to make their move. And there she feels like losing her consciousness once again due to the fear and the extreme pressure emanating from the beast.

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gasp

gasp

Suddenly all the pressure disappeared as if it has never existed and suddenly one of the silhouettes started to walk towards her.

'Please! Please! Please! Don't kill! Please, don't kill me! Don't kill me!'

To her surprise, a thick blanket is thrown onto her, along with some bread. With trembling hands, she wraps herself in the blanket and eats the bread, savoring its taste as if it were the most delicious thing in the world.

"You are-"

The woman in a jet black suit with golden lines forming an intriguing pattern, her light pink hair strands falling on either shoulder, interrupts Elara's thoughts.

Elara knows for a fact that any misconduct on her part could result in her last moments alive. The mere presence of these people is enough to make her suffocate due to the immense aura leaking from them, even though it is being suppressed by a large margin.

"I am Elara, the youngest child of King Alaric, the king of the Zenon Kingdom," she says.

'Oo-now I remember, there are some reports of increasing activities of the cult in the Zenon Kingdom as well. Especially in its capital, Zerathia, the city of riches and the greatest source of income for the Mitsukoshi and its neighboring villages and towns,' (Epsilon) said.

"Do you know about this?" the pink-haired lady asks Elara, pointing to a symbol on the right arm of a captor. Elara recognizes the symbol immediately; it is the very reason her perfect life has been reduced to one without a single reason to live.

"It is of the Cult. I don't know many details, but they are the reason I am in this condition today," Elara replies.

"What do you mean?"

The pink-haired shadow's voice is filled with eagerness to know more, as if her curiosity is piqued—a reaction not unnoticed by Elara. Especially the reaction of all the shadows present; they all perk up at the mention of the Cult.

Elara takes a deep breath, her eyes reflecting a mix of nostalgia and sorrow as she begins to speak. Tears start rolling down her cheeks.

"My family was once the epitome of prosperity and happiness. My father, King Alaric, was a beloved ruler. The people of Zenon adored him for his wisdom and kindness. Our kingdom flourished under his reign, and every citizen felt the warmth of his benevolence.

We had a perfect family. My father, my siblings, and I shared countless moments of joy. Our palace was always filled with laughter. My older sister, Seraphina, was gentle and kind, and my brother, Kael, was strong and protective. We were inseparable, each day filled with smiles and love."(Elara)

Her voice breaks slightly as she continues, the pain in her heart evident in every word. The shadows don't stop her, understanding how emotionally broken she is. They also recognize the potential benefit of her hatred towards the Cult, seeing her as a valuable pawn in their hands.

"Our citizens were not just subjects; they were like an extended family. Festivals were grand, and the streets would be alive with music and dance. Everywhere you looked, you could see the contentment on people's faces. Life was perfect, and it felt like nothing could ever shatter our happiness."(Elara)

Suddenly, a shadow stands up and turns around to leave as if he is totally uninterested in the topic. Elara understands the situation and decides to reveal the most confidential secret of the Cult that she knows. She knows she needs to win their favor as it is her only option to live, take her revenge, and stop the Cult.

"It all began with my brother. He changed, became distant and secretive. At first, we thought it was the weight of his responsibilities, but then strange things started happening. And then, my father was murdered in his office. It was a devastating blow to our family and our kingdom.

I placed spies around my brother, and through them, I discovered that the Church of Zerathia serves as the financial hub for the Cult across four kingdoms: Zenon, Midgar, Elf, and Oriana."(Elara)

After hearing Elara's sentence, the shadow that has been dissolving away in the air suddenly stops and, as if time is going back, a person in pure jet black with a hood and shining crimson eyes turns towards her with sharp eyes as if emphasizing her to continue.

"They are also developing a weapon of mass destruction. When my brother learned of my espionage, they devised a plan to kidnap me and stage my death in Oriana."(Elara)