Elara remained perfectly still, her gaze locked on the woman before her. She strained her ears, trying to discern any sounds that might indicate the presence of the woman's companions. Trying to gauge their position and numbers. Her muscles tensed, ready to voidwalk at the slightest hint of aggression.
The woman broke the silence, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "What's a level 36 doing alone in these woods?" She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Or are your companions waiting somewhere nearby, ready to strike at your signal?"
Elara weighed her options, considering whether to deny having a group or to tell the truth. She recalled how the woman had stopped short of a follow up attack, thanks to her combat skills, allowing her to dodge the first strike. It was a valuable combat skill, but she wondered what had truly made the woman stop in her tracks.
Using her Inspect ability, she tried to gauge the woman's level, but found that she couldn't see it.
Warrior [Level: ??]
This meant the woman was above level 40, as Elara had been able to inspect the level 40 wolves earlier. She pondered the woman's words, realizing that she had called out both her class and level. It couldn't have been her Rogue class that had given the woman pause. No, it must have been either the mention of her being a girl or her level. Perhaps both. She knew she had a somewhat youthful, rounded face, which might have led the woman to believe she was younger than she actually was. Combined with her low level, it seemed to have given the woman reason to hesitate.
The silence stretched between them until the woman spoke again, her voice tinged with impatience. "Are you deaf?"
Elara decided to stick to the truth as much as she could, without sounding like a lunatic, of course. She slowly stood up, her movements deliberate and non-threatening. "There's no one else," she said, her voice steady. "I was following the tracks on the ground. I didn't know who they belonged to."
The woman scoffed, her thin black eyebrows raised in disbelief. "What do you mean, you just follow some tracks you see on the ground? Are you tired of living? That's a great way to get your head caved in, following some unknown travelers." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Now, what are you doing here? You don't look like a local."
Elara thought for a moment, and without a better story, she decided to tell the truth. "My friend dropped me off here," she said, her voice even.
The woman stared at her for a bit, her expression one of incredulity. "So, you thought that the tracks you followed were of your so-called friend, who left you stranded in the middle of nowhere, without any supplies?" She shook her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's some kind of friend."
She remained silent as the woman's eyes roamed over her body, taking in her lack of armor and supplies. The woman's scrutiny made Elara uncomfortable, but she held her tongue, knowing that any explanation would likely sound even weirder.
As she continued to assess her, Elara's mind wandered to the moment Flamebeard had let her fall into the lake. The betrayal stung, not because of the landing itself, but because of the silenced debuff he had applied to her. For 300 agonizing seconds, she had been unable to use any of her active skills, including her trusty Voidwalk. The experience had left her feeling vulnerable and exposed, a feeling she hadn't experienced before.
The thought of being helpless in the face of danger, like a man-eating kraken lurking in the depths of the lake, sent a shiver down her spine. She had been lucky to make it to shore unscathed, relying solely on her physical abilities and the stats she had accumulated. The ordeal had left her shaken, but also grateful for the changes that had happened to her body and the dagger that had remained at her side. As the woman finished her inspection, she couldn't help but wonder what the woman had made of her. Did she see a helpless girl, lost and alone in the wilderness? Or did she see something else? Whatever her assessment, Elara knew that she would have to rely on her wits and resourcefulness to navigate this new challenge.
Her grip unconsciously tightened on her dagger as the woman spoke, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Fancy dagger, you got there," she said, nodding towards the weapon. "Why don't ya put it away somewhere?"
Elara glanced down at the dagger, realizing that she didn't have a proper sheath for it. "I don't have a place for it," she admitted, her voice steady.
The woman hummed in response, her expression unimpressed. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension.
Suddenly, a low wheezy voice cut through the air. "Are you done with your interrogation, Esme?" he asked, his tone loud and impatient. "We've got places to be, so best hurry. Either kill her or leave her."
Elara watched as the now identified Esme's stance loosened, her posture no longer as intimidating as before. "Shut up, old man," she retorted bluntly, looking past Elara. "I'm not just going to kill some little girl that was left in the woods to feed the wildlife. Some people have something we call a moral compass."
Elara bristled a bit at being called a little girl. She was a grown woman, after all. With Flamebeard, it was fine for him to call her young or a child. From his perspective, she was indeed young. But then again, was the woman before her even human? As far as Elara knew, gray skin was not a typical human feature. A thought struck her, and she looked at Esme with newfound focus. Could she be a demon? Elara's eyes scanned the woman's body, searching for any extra limbs, just as Flamebeard had told her about. But found none that were visible.
Elara watched as Esme approached the tree, gripping the handle of her hammer firmly before yanking it free from where it had lodged in the bark. With a smooth motion, Esme swung the hammer over her shoulder, letting it rest between her neck and shoulders. The gesture seemed to signal a shift in tone, one of de-escalation, and Elara felt a wave of relief wash over her. Esme then stepped around her, careful to maintain a safe distance, staying out of the reach of Elara’s dagger.
With Esme no longer directly in front of her, she turned around to face two men approaching from behind. The man closest to her appeared to be of senior age, with russet brown skin and shoulder-length silver hair tied back in a low ponytail. His dark orange eyes gleamed with an intensity that seemed to match the symbols of fire adorning his red and brown robes. He carried a white wooden walking stick and had the appearance of a human.
The other man, standing behind the first, was an imposing figure. He stood at least a head taller and was twice as wide as his companion. His bronze skin was stretched over bulging muscles, visible through the gaps in his leather armor and pelt. His salt and pepper hair flowed over his shoulders, and a long, thick beard covered much of his face. He exuded an aura of intensity. In each hand, he gripped a large axe, their blades glinting in the light.
Mage [Level: ??]
Warrior [Level: ??]
Her eyes darted between the two men. She wondered what had brought such an unlikely trio together in these woods.
She remained where she was; her gaze wary as she watched the trio interact. The piercing stare of the larger man bore into her, sending shivers down her spine. Esme approached the older man and spoke, "We could bring the girl along," she suggested, her tone casual. "It won't slow us down too much, and we've got time to spare."
The older man let out a derisive snort before responding, "Fine. If that's what you want, then we'll bring her along. But you keep an eye on her."
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Esme turned to her and grinned. "You heard that? You can follow us to the village. We were already on our way there."
Elara hesitated, weighing her options as she observed the trio. With no clear alternatives presenting themselves, following them seemed like the most logical choice. Despite the earlier close call, she couldn't discern any immediate danger beyond the initial encounter.
"Alright," Elara acquiesced with a nod, her decision made.
As she made her decision, a question lingered in her mind: should she use her real name or maintain her anonymity?
"Great," Esme chirped, her grin widening as she glanced towards the mage. "This is Ignatius."
Next, Esme introduced the warrior, "and this is Tirn," gesturing towards him.
Elara met Ignatius's squinting gaze, his warning hanging in the air like a palpable threat. "Don't try anything," he cautioned, his tone laced with suspicion. "We'll know if you do, and we'll dispose of you."
She nodded, her gaze shifting to Tirn, whose eyes remained fixed on her form. His nod of acknowledgment was curt, his demeanor unreadable.
"My name is Alira," Elara declared, choosing a name similar enough to her own that she would still instinctively respond to it. Esme clapped her hands together, breaking the tension that lingered in the air. "Well, now that we're all introduced, let's get moving, shall we?" she suggested, her tone cheerful as she gestured for them to start their journey.
She pointed at Elara, gesturing for her to walk closer and take her place beside her. Ignatius took his place behind them, while Tirn brought up the rear. As they began their journey, Esme broke the silence with a question. "So, Alira, where are you from?"
Elara ignores the question, deciding to play the role of a girl stranded in the woods, which was, in fact, the truth. She turned the conversation around, asking, "Where are we, exactly?"
Ignatius answered, his voice taking on an annoyed tone, "We're in the Whispering Woods, between the south-eastern border of the Empire and the Kingdom of Gustuz." He paused, his eyes narrowing as he pressed Elara again. "Now, tell us where you're from."
Elara pondered for a moment, considering the option of feigning amnesia, but quickly dismissed the idea. She wouldn't be able to maintain such an act convincingly. Instead, she opted for a vague response. "I'm from the capital," she stated, intentionally omitting any specific region or details.
Her reasoning was simple. If there were empires and kingdoms, there must be capitals, and capitals were typically bustling with people. In a large city, not everyone would know each other, unlike in smaller villages or towns, where familiarity was more common.
Esme raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "The capital, huh? That's quite a way from here. What brings you to these parts?"
Elara shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Like I said, my friend dropped me off here. I'm not entirely sure why."
Ignatius scoffed, his disbelief evident. "Your friend just left you in the middle of the woods without any explanation? Sounds like a pretty poor excuse for a friend, if you ask me. If that friend even exists in the first place."
Elara remained silent, not wanting to delve further into the details of her situation. She knew that the truth would likely sound far-fetched to these strangers, and she didn't want to risk raising more suspicion.
Esme glanced over her shoulder, her gaze fixed on Ignatius. "Cool it, old man," she chided, her tone firm but not unkind. "She's just a level 36. It's not like she's here for the dungeon. There's no need to grill her like that."
Ignatius's eyes widened a bit, his face contorting in annoyance at Esme's words. "Esme!" he hissed, his voice laced with exasperation. "Control your mouth. Why would you mention the dungeon in front of a stranger? We don't know anything about her!"
Elara's ears perked up at the mention of a dungeon. She had no knowledge of what a dungeon would mean in this world.
Esme shrugged, seemingly unfazed by Ignatius' irritation. "It's not like it's some big secret," she countered, her tone casual. "There are already dozens of groups we'll have to compete with. A level 36 isn't going to be one of them."
Ignatius scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's not the point," he grumbled, his gaze darting between Esme and Elara. "We don't know anything about her intentions or capabilities. For all we know, she could be a spy of another team or a thief."
Elara remained silent, observing the exchange between the two.
Esme sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Look, Ignatius," she began, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "I understand your concerns, but we can't just leave her out here alone. She's clearly lost and in need of help. Look at her clothes. The least we can do is guide her to the village and let her find her own way from there."
Ignatius opened his mouth to argue but seemed to think better of it. With a resigned huff, he turned his attention back to the path ahead, his walking stick tapping against the ground with each step.
Elara couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Esme for her intervention. Despite the woman's earlier aggression, she seemed to have a compassionate side. As they continued their journey through the woods, her mind wandered to the mysterious dungeon. She walked in silence beside the trio, her mind still processing the events that had transpired. The mention of a dungeon had piqued her curiosity, but she knew better than to pry further, especially after Ignatius' admonishment of Esme.
The group had been walking for a few minutes when Tirn's deep voice cut through the stillness. "Incoming," he warned, his hands already reaching for his axes.
Esme reacted swiftly, gripping her oversized hammer with both hands. She gave Elara a firm nudge with her shoulder, guiding her to stand beside Ignatius. "Stay with the mage," Esme instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Elara nodded, moving closer to Ignatius as she scanned their surroundings, trying to discern what Tirn had spotted. The mage gestured for her to follow him, and they made their way up a small incline, putting some distance between themselves and the warriors.
Tirn and Esme took up defensive positions, their weapons at the ready as they scanned the trees. The rustling of foliage grew louder, the sound of something large and numerous rapidly approaching their location.
Esme began to wind back her hammer, the muscles on her arm tensing as she prepared to strike. Suddenly, a massive boar burst through the underbrush, charging directly towards her. With a powerful swing, Esme brought her hammer down on the beast's head, the sickening crunch of bone and flesh filling the air. The boar crumpled to the ground, its life extinguished in an instant.
Elara watched in awe as Esme followed through with the momentum of her swing, flipping over the carcass and already readying herself for the next charging beast. The warrior’s strength was impressive, to do all that in half-plate armor.
Elara watched as another boar burst through the underbrush, charging straight towards Tirn. The warrior stood his ground, his body tense and ready. As the beast closed in, Tirn sidestepped with surprising agility for a man of his size, his axes already in motion.
With a fluid movement, Tirn brought his axes down on the boar's flank, the razor-sharp blades slicing through flesh and bone. The beast let out a pained squeal as it continued its charge, its momentum carrying it forward. Tirn maintained his grip on the axes, allowing the boar's own speed to drag itself along the length of his blades.
Blood sprayed from the gaping wounds, painting the ground and his leather armor in a vivid crimson. The boar stumbled, its legs giving out beneath it as it succumbed to its injuries. With a final, shuddering breath, the beast collapsed, its lifeless body sliding to a halt at his feet.
Elara's eyes widened at the display of skill and strength. She had never witnessed such a brutal and efficient takedown before. Tirn yanked his axes free from the boar's carcass, the blades dripping with blood. He turned to face the rest of the group, his expression neutral.
Esme let out a low whistle of appreciation, her own hammer resting on her shoulder. "Nice work, Tirn," she commended, her tone filled with respect. "That's two down."
Ignatius, who had been standing beside Elara, shook his head. "Always getting blood on his armor." He murmured, his voice low enough for only Elara to hear. "But it never ceases to impress me."
Elara nodded, her gaze still fixed on the fallen boar. She couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and unease at the casual display of violence. The trio seemed to handle such encounters with practiced ease, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in these woods. She approached one of the fallen boars, her curiosity getting the better of her. She focused her gaze on the carcass, activating her Inspect skill. A notification appeared in her vision.
Juvenile Rage Boar
Her eyes widened in surprise. These beasts were merely juveniles? The back of the boar could reach up to her shoulder. She shuddered at the thought of encountering a fully grown Rage Boar. Esme, having finished her own inspection, readied herself to continue their journey. However, Tirn's voice cut through the air, halting her movements. "We're not done yet," he stated, his tone firm.
Esme immediately turned to face him, her posture alert and ready. Tirn scanned their surroundings. His eyes narrowed. "We should find a place with more open space," he suggested, his gaze returning to the group. "Fighting between trees is not ideal for us."
Without waiting for a response, Tirn took the lead, breaking into a run. The others followed quickly, their weapons at the ready. Elara, despite her lack of experience, fell into step behind them, grateful for the sturdy shoes on her feet.
As they ran, she couldn't help but marvel at the trio's coordination and readiness. They moved with a sense of purpose, their actions speaking of countless battles fought together. The sound of rustling foliage and heavy footfalls filled the air as they raced through the woods, seeking a more advantageous position. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through her veins.