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The Demon's Hostage
Chapter 3: Return Home

Chapter 3: Return Home

The next morning, Alice awoke to the soft melody of chirping birds. It was still early, and as she sat up, she realized the demon was nowhere to be seen. She rubbed her head, trying to piece together fragments of what happened last night. Her hand instinctively reached for her neck; the bite marks he’d left were still fresh, the scars not yet healed.

In the distance, he appeared, strolling toward her with an easy smile. Seeing her awake, he gave a casual wave. She moved to sit by the unlit campfire, thoughts swirling in her mind. Last night... Her dress had dried, but she felt uneasy. What if he’d done something while she was asleep? The very idea sent shivers down her spine.

When he finally reached her, he took a seat opposite her. “Good morning,” he greeted, his tone light. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” she admitted.

“I didn’t catch anything today,” he replied with a note of displeasure.

Her stomach tightened in disappointment. She was starving, but after days of eating so little, her body had adjusted to the gnawing hunger. “Oh… I see.”

“You’d be surprised by what I saw today,” he continued, his voice laced with intrigue. The curiosity in her eyes spurred him on. “There were rangers out searching for you.”

“Rangers? From the capital?” she asked, her heart quickening.

“The very same,” he confirmed, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “You must be someone important for them to send out a force like that.”

Her mind flashed to her father—once a lieutenant and one of the best rangers in the region. He was a master with both bow and sword, though he now lived a quieter life in the village. He must have pulled strings to initiate the search party. A faint smile touched her lips, warmth blooming within her at the thought that they were looking for her.

“I took the liberty of following them back to your village,” he added, nonchalantly.

Her brow furrowed. “Why would you do that?”

“If you want, we can head back,” he offered, his tone almost teasing.

Was he serious? He didn’t seem to be joking, but what could he possibly gain from this? Her gaze narrowed with suspicion. “You’re being honest?”

“Have I given you reason to doubt me?” he asked, his eyes locked on hers. “As long as you’re careful and don’t say anything about me, I’m perfectly fine with going.”

The thought of him anywhere near her village sent a chill through her. But it was too late—he knew where she was from, and it was only a matter of time before he decided to visit. Still, she doubted he’d openly show hostility if he was trying to remain undercover. But what was his angle? Was he really doing this for her? The idea baffled her.

But he wasn’t wrong; if she refused and tried to escape, he could easily massacre the entire village. Her family and everyone she knew would be at his mercy. It was a hostage situation disguised as an offer.

In that case, maybe she should accept. She’d keep her silence about his true nature—anything to see her family again. Refusing meant returning to the forest, to chains and captivity. “Won’t you stand out in those clothes?” she asked, eyeing his dark, imposing cloak.

He glanced down and chuckled softly. “These are no ordinary clothes. The fabric is magic—able to shift to whatever I desire. They won’t be a problem, I assure you.”

Her eyes widened. Magical fabric? She had only read about such things in books, reserved for the most powerful beings. Clothes made from them were said to enhance all attributes, and his looked far more impressive than any she’d ever studied. Whoever this demon was, he wasn’t ordinary. He was someone—or something—far more dangerous than she could fathom.

“Oh… I see. If that’s the case, then we won’t have an issue, I suppose.”

“Then it’s settled.” He stood and abruptly reached for her arm, pulling her into his embrace. She gasped, staring up into his eyes. For a brief moment, her heart raced as she found herself lost in the depths of his gaze. “What are you doing?” she stammered, her voice trembling.

“We’re going flying.”

Before she could react, his massive wings unfurled, cutting into the earth with a powerful thrust. With a jarring leap, they soared into the sky. “Eeep!” she squealed, clutching onto him as the ground vanished beneath them.

Looking down at the landscape below, the two exchanged glances, their hair fluttering in the wind as they soared. The view was breathtaking; no matter how many times she saw it, it always left her in awe. "Hold on tight," he murmured. With a swift motion, they glided smoothly through the sky. After an hour of flight, her village came into view, nestled among the lush greenery.

"You elves certainly have thrived over the years, haven’t you?" he remarked, pausing mid-air as they hovered, his wings beating rhythmically against the wind.

She looked to the place she once called home. Village was not the right word for the sight before them. Tall, elegant elven structures formed a protective ring around the outskirts, their spires rising even higher as they stretched into the distance. From their perspective the village looked vast, more like a flourishing city than a small collective.

"That's home..." she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as tears welled up in her eyes. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she’d see her village again. The sight of it stirred a deep longing within her. A part of her wanted to cry—both from the overwhelming joy of being near her home and a quiet, unexpected gratitude toward him for bringing her back, even if only for a moment.

She glanced at him, only to find his attention fixed on the village. He seemed captivated by the sight, almost as if he, too, was in awe. But her gaze lingered, tracing the smooth line of his neck, the sharp angles of his face. There was a charm to his features that caught her off guard—What was she even thinking? She quickly banished the thought, reminding herself of what he was. He was a demon, and yet, in this fleeting moment, he didn’t seem as malevolent as the stories had led her to believe.

His cloak rippled, shifting in color and texture until it morphed into attire more befitting the elves. What he now wore was the ancient garb of elven nobility—something she had only ever read about in her textbooks. In the current age, donning such attire was considered a high honor, reserved for the most esteemed among them. Though she quickly looked away, she couldn’t hide her amazement.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, finally noticing her lingering gaze. His attention had been fixed on the village below until now.

“No, it’s nothing,” she replied, though her voice betrayed her awe.

He continued to glide through the air, bringing them closer to the city. But rather than flying straight in, he began to descend, landing gracefully on the roads leading to the village. As they touched down, he released her, allowing her feet to meet solid ground once more. The city’s towering gates loomed before them, not far away.

“We’ll walk from here,” he said calmly.

She nodded, understanding that flying in would draw too much attention. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment; she had grown fond of the exhilarating rush of flight. “Alright,” she agreed, adjusting to the earth beneath her feet as they began their approach on foot.

As they walked closer to the city gates, Alice couldn’t help but glance at him again, his attire still a striking vision of ancient elven nobility. The intricate embroidery and fine fabrics shimmered subtly in the light, drawing eyes even from a distance. She bit her lip, wondering how to phrase her concern. Finally, she decided to speak up.

“Um… I was thinking,” she began hesitantly, “maybe wearing something so fancy might not be the best idea.”

What was she thinking?! Why was she telling him this? Having eyes on them would only serve her own interests. A keen observer would realize his attire a fake. He turned his gaze toward her, an eyebrow raised in mild surprise. “Oh? Why do you say that?”

She gestured subtly to his attire. “Those clothes… they’re a bit too grand. Anyone who knows elven traditions would recognize that they’re meant for high-ranking nobles. If you walk in dressed like that, people might start asking questions… or worse, treat you like some kind of important guest. It could draw unwanted attention.”

He looked down at himself, considering her words. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “So, you think I look important, do you?”

She quickly shook her head, cheeks flushing. “That’s not what I meant! It’s just—well, if people start treating you with too much respect, it could get awkward. We’re trying to blend in, not stand out.”

Point taken. I suppose it wouldn’t do us any favors if everyone’s eyes were on me.”

The ornate robes shifted, darkening and simplifying into something more modest—a plain but well-crafted tunic and trousers, the kind an average traveler might wear. The transformation was seamless, “Better?” he asked, looking to her for approval.

"Um... yes... That'll do it."

Even with the simpler attire, there was no denying that he still stood out. His commanding presence, his face, and his intense gaze would inevitably catch the attention of others. And there was something else—something more difficult to hide. He was far too tall and undeniably fit, his form well-toned and muscular, a physique that even the loose tunic couldn’t entirely conceal.

"Shall we?"

So infatuated was she that, for a moment, Alice forgot what they were doing. She simply nodded, and the two continued side by side toward the village. The gatehouse loomed larger with every step, its grandeur striking in the morning light. As they approached, two guards stationed at the entrance stood watch. One was a slim elf with a sharp green hat, dressed in traditional elven garb and armed with a bow. The other appeared to be a human, clad in chainmail with a sword at his waist.

The moment the human guard spotted them, he rushed forward, almost breaking into a sprint. Alice’s eyes widened as she recognized him, and they halted in their tracks. Breathless, the man called out to her, “Alice! We’ve been searching everywhere for you!”

He doubled over, panting from the exertion, while the elf calmly caught up.

“Where… where have you been?” the man asked, straightening up with concern etched on his face.

This man was more than just a guard; he was someone who had watched Alice grow up, a kind-hearted soul she respected deeply. He was known for his bravery, having once single-handedly defeated a band of orcs to save elven hostages. To Alice, he was not just a mentor but a figure of trust and admiration.

His gaze shifted to the man beside Alice, and his instincts immediately flared. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Before tensions could escalate, Alice quickly interjected, “I got lost in the woods, that’s all! This man here helped me find my way back.”

The man blinked, clearly baffled. “Lost…? You got lost?”

It didn’t add up. He knew Alice’s skill in navigating the forest—it was one of her strengths. Her explanation seemed off, but before he could question it further, she added, “Really, that’s all there is to it.” She glanced at the demon, who stood silently at her side. “Thanks to him… I’m alive.”

There was some truth in her words, though it wasn’t the whole story.

The elf, ever cautious, nodded and said, “Thank you for returning Alice to us, traveler.”

The demon responded, “It was the right thing to do.”

The human guard, still wary but softened by the demon’s apparent goodwill, offered, “It would be our pleasure to host you. Please, it’s the least we can do for someone who helped one of our own.”

The demon hesitated, as though weighing his options, though it was more for show than anything else. He wanted to appear reluctant but courteous. “I… don’t know,” he said, his tone carefully measured.

The elf chimed in, “Hubert’s right. You must stay. It is our duty to ensure those who aid our people are treated with the honor they deserve.”

Feigning uncertainty, the demon looked to Alice, who gave him a small, reassuring nod. After a deliberate pause, he said, “Then I’ll gladly accept your hospitality.”

The elf called out to the gatehouse, “Open the gates! Inform Lord Geralt at once of Alice’s return!”

The massive gates creaked open, and the guards ushered them inside. As they passed through, the human man, still relieved, couldn’t resist giving Alice a firm but gentle reminder. “I can finally rest easy knowing you’re safe. But Alice, please, never do that again.”

“Hubert…” Alice began, her voice soft, but the demon’s eyes were fixed on her, sharp and unwavering. She hesitated, then forced a small smile. “I’m really lucky to have someone as kind as you watching out for me.”

Hubert’s concerned expression softened. “I’m just doing what I can.”

Once inside the village gates, the guards halted. “Alice, go straight to your father, okay? I need to get back to my post.”

“Thank you, Hubert. I will. Peace be with you.”

“And with you,” he replied with a nod before heading back to his duties.

With the guards gone, the demon took in his surroundings, his gaze sweeping over the bustling village. He seemed genuinely surprised by the scale of it—how vibrant and well-structured everything was. Life thrived here in a way that was both harmonious and efficient. The streets were alive with activity as elves and humans alike went about their daily routines. But as soon as people noticed Alice, a ripple of excitement spread through the crowd. Curious villagers began to gather around her, voices rising with questions.

Before they could get overwhelmed by the crowd, the sound of galloping hooves echoed in the distance. “Make way! MAKE WAY!” a voice boomed.

The crowd quickly parted as a group of elven guards approached on horseback, leading a luxurious carriage drawn by four elegant steeds. The lead guard called out, “Lady Alice! We’ve been ordered to escort you to your father. And this man is with you, I presume?”

The demon’s expression remained carefully neutral despite the flurry of activity. “He is,” Alice confirmed.

“Very well,” the guard said, signaling to open the carriage door. The plush interior gleamed invitingly. Alice and the demon stepped inside, the door closing behind them.

As the carriage began to move, silence hung in the air between them. Alice and the demon exchanged glances, but his expression was far from pleased. “Lady Alice,” he mocked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Alice bristled at his words. Her father, though a lieutenant, was highly esteemed among the elves and was granted the honorary title of lord. That title made her a "lady" within the village, but outside, it held little weight. Still, she could sense the bitterness in his voice. “What are you trying to say? Just spit it out,” she snapped.

“You should’ve told me who you really were,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s not like you asked!” she retorted, grabbing a cushion beside her and hurling it at him.

He swatted the cushion aside, his expression darkening. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing you back.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you!” she shot back, her gaze turning to the window, where the village blurred past.

He clenched his jaw, clearly seething, but she couldn’t understand why this revelation angered him so much. Was it the surprise, or was it something deeper? His reaction made her uneasy—unsure of what he would do next. The tension was palpable, hanging thick in the small space of the carriage.

“What does it matter now?” she muttered, more to herself than to him.

He said nothing in response, simply staring out the opposite window, brooding in silence. Whatever thoughts were running through his mind, she could tell they were nothing pleasant. The carriage rocked gently as it made its way through the village, but inside, the air felt thick as thick if not thicker than before.

The carriage came to a halt, revealing a sight that could only be described as a mansion. It was a grand structure, adorned with white pillars, expansive glass windows, and marble stones that gleamed in the sunlight. A wide staircase led to opulent double doors, which swung open as they approached. "After you, Lady Alice," he gestured with a bow.

Alice bit her lip, resisting the urge to argue. The lavish attention they received was unnecessary, even dangerous, considering their need to remain unnoticed. Yet, for both their sakes, she stepped forward to lead the way. As they descended from the carriage, they were greeted by the household's caretakers, bustling around in eager preparation. The demon walked close beside her; his intense gaze fixed on her.

"A name," Alice murmured softly, her voice barely cutting through the sound of the surrounding chatter.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Throughout their time together, she had known him only as the demon who kept her captive, a being of evil. Yet, she felt compelled to address him by name, to give form to the shadow that haunted her existence.

"Hm?" His voice was a low murmur, almost lost in the noise.

Maintaining a poised smile, Alice nodded and exchanged pleasantries with the others, her demeanor hiding the tension that gripped her. As they approached the entrance of the grand mansion, she leaned slightly closer, her words for him alone. "What’s your name?"

"You can call me Adrien."

The mansion doors creaked open, revealing a red-carpet unfurling before them. Alice’s mind was fixed on one thing: his name. Adrien. Who knew if this was his true name, yet it echoed in her thoughts, carrying with it a weight of pride. She whispered it under her breath as they stepped inside, testing the way it felt on her lips.

They walked down the carpet; her parents came into view—rigid with a mix of anger and relief. She appeared as a kind looking elven women who was garbed in green fabric and luscious blonde hair. Her father, a refined looking man on whom time had not been generous. Alice had inherited her silver hair from her father.

When her mother saw Adrien and her daughter, she rushed forward, grasping Alice’s hands. “Oh, my darling girl!” she cried, her voice trembling with worry.

Adrien watched quietly, his gaze sharp, sizing up her father who eyed him back with suspicion. The air between them was far too tense, a silent exchange of wariness. Her father couldn’t stand it for long; seeing that his wife wouldn’t stop her talking, he marched down the carpet. With a thunderous slap, he struck Alice across her face with a firm hand. Alice staggered, her cheek stinging from the blow. Her mother’s gasp was stifled by her own fears, and Alice could only raise a trembling hand to her bruised face, tears welling in her eyes. Her father’s voice was cold, angered and worried. “Do you have any idea the disgrace you’ve brought on this family?”

“Father, I—”

“Silence!” His voice cracked like a whip, cutting her off. “You’ve made fools of us all—me, your mother, your brother—we were sick with worry over you!”

Alice’s eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Her father then turned his attention to Adrien. “So, you’re the one who brought my daughter back.” He said defiantly, “I owe you thanks.”

“I only did what I believed was right.”

Her father looked to Alice, “Don’t you ever do this to us again…”

He was incredibly worried for her, yet he did not bore the strength to say it. He brought Alice into his embrace, his head resting upon hers, tapping on her back with his hand. She wanted to scream the truth—that Adrien was a demon—but her courage faltered, and instead, she sobbed quietly into his shoulder. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “You’re home now. You’re safe.”

Her mother’s gentle voice broke the moment they shared. “Dinner is ready. You must be starving.”

Her father nodded, still holding Alice as he addressed Adrien. “You must be weary. Join us. I want to hear what happened.”

They were ushered into a grand dining room with a roaring fireplace that cast flickering shadows on the walls. A massive table awaited them, laden with dishes and foods that smelled like home. Alice and Adrien took their seats across from each other; her father sat at the head, with her mother to his left. The food was rich and inviting, and Alice, famished and drained, piled her plate high, abandoning all sense of manners. Her father opened his mouth to scold her, but his wife gently placed a hand on his arm, shaking her head. He let out a resigned sigh and turned his attention to Adrien. “What’s your name, adventurer?”

Contrary to her, Adrien had not taken anything for himself. His plate remained empty. “Adrien,” he replied calmly, holding her father’s gaze.

Her father’s brow furrowed. “Adrien, is it?”

“Dear, please, "his wife interjected, “it’s impolite to question a guest’s name in such manner.”

“I meant no offense.” He said, looking to Adrien to gauge his reaction.

“None taken."

Alice continued to eat. She relished the thought of coming home to this very meal. It was finally before her. She was thankful for the opportunity, though she remained cautious as to Adrien's reason for bringing her here. Her father shifted his attention to her seeing how she enjoyed her meal, though, his tone remained stern. “So?? Where have you been all this time?”

Alice stopped chewing when her father questioned her, swallowing her food before answering. “I was out gathering herbs.”

“Where exactly?”

She knew that he would've scolded her if she told him the truth. He'd always be harsh on her. She hesitated, but ultimately told him some truth. “In the Forbidden Forest…”

She braced herself for the worst. A lecture of a lifetime. Her father’s face darkened, but he did not lash out as she expected him to. “How many times have I told you that place is dangerous? You’re not strong enough to face the horrors that lurk there!”

Adrien nearly choked on his food, masking his amusement behind a cough. Alice, meanwhile, couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be if he actually choked to death.

As her father reached for more food, something caught his eye. A faint scar on Alice’s neck—something he hadn’t noticed before. His hand paused mid-motion, his expression tightening with concern. His eyes remained fixed on the scar, thoughts racing. Slowly, he stood up, “Alice,” he said, softer now, “come with me for a moment.”

Adrien’s eyes followed them, but her mother quickly engaged him in conversation, inquiring about his travels and origins. With Adrien distracted, Alice and her father slipped out of the dining room. Once outside, her father led her into a secluded study, closing the door firmly behind them. “Alice, what happened out there?" He asked, locking the door.

Her father was no fool. He’d always been observant, able to discern truth from lies. Alice had ventured into the forest before, but this was the first time she’d returned so changed, so starved. “I already told you," She replied, trying to maintain her composure and secret.

“I’m not interested in what you said in front of our guest.” His tone hardened. “He’s a demon, isn’t he?”

The words struck her like a blow, knocking the air from her lungs. She opened her mouth to deny it, but her eyes gave her away. Her father’s expression darkened further, confirming his suspicions without her needing to speak. “This is bad… I have to inform the king of what has transpired here.” he muttered, half to himself, pacing as he turned his back to her.

Panic flared in Alice’s chest. She took a step forward. “You can't...”

“Don’t you understand the evil you’ve unleashed, girl?” her father thundered, his voice echoing with a mixture of anger and fear. “We forbade that forest because he was meant to be left undisturbed! Do you have any idea how much elven blood was spilled to imprison him there? Your own grandfather and great-grandfather died for this—sacrificing everything to ensure he stayed sealed away. And you’ve thrown all of it to the wind!”

Alice stood in silence, unable to meet his eyes, only angering him more. “Nothing to say for yourself?” he asked with fury, taking a step closer. “Then answer me this—why is a demon following you?”

“I…”

“You... You what?!?” he snapped, impatience lacing his words.

Alice took a step back, intimidated. He was acting panicked. She'd never seen him lose his temper in such a way. “I struck a deal with him… to save myself.” She said.

Her father’s face drained of color, his hand trembling as the words sank in. For a moment, he looked like he might collapse. He staggered back, barely managing to sink into his chair, his expression hollow and lifeless. “You… made a deal with him?”

To her, her father seemed unable to understand the grave danger she was in. Why was he so anxious? Why was he afraid of a mere single demon. He was the strongest she'd ever known, relentless and dauntless. Never, did she imagine him so frightened. It worried her gravely, but her life was on the line, surely, he would understand. Something about the way he acted made her speak defensively to explain herself. “It was the only choice I had! What else was I supposed to do—die?!”

“Yes,” her father replied coldly, his eyes dark and unrecognizable. “That would have been preferable.”

Alice recoiled, her breath catching in her throat as tears welled up in her eyes. The man before her no longer felt like her father. She took a shaky step backward, then another, before turning and fleeing the study, tears streaming down her face. Her father remained slumped in his chair, lost in a haze of uncertainty. He dragged his hands through his hair, rubbing his tired eyes as he sat alone in the dim light of his study, shrouded in darkness and regret.

Alice rushed back into the dining room, her eyes immediately finding Adrien. He was still engaged in conversation with her mother, sharing a moment of laughter with no regard to her urgency. She hurried to his side, leaning in to whisper urgently. “We need to go. He knows.”

He didn’t flinch. “Did you tell him?”

“No, you have my word,” she insisted, her voice trembling slightly.

If she had betrayed him, he was fully prepared to end her and then slaughter her entire family without a second thought. But Adrien was a demon of his word, and his pride would not allow him to break it. “I understand.”

He rose from his seat, prompting a surprised look from Alice’s mother. “Where are you two going?” she asked.

“It has been a pleasure,” Adrien said, offering a polite bow. “But I’m afraid we must be on our way. Thank you for the meal and the warm hospitality. Elves are, after all, known for such graciousness.”

“You speak too kindly of us,” her mother replied with a faint smile, standing as well. “You’re leaving with him, then?”

“Yes, Mother,” Alice answered, her voice steadier now. “I know that as long as I’m with him… I’ll be safe.”

Her mother studied Adrien carefully, then gave a resigned nod. “Please, take care of her.”

“I shall.”

Alice’s thoughts were a tangled mess, haunted by her father’s cruel words. He would have preferred her dead rather than risk releasing the demon. The weight of his words crushed her spirit. For the first time, she found herself viewing Adrien—her captor, her tormentor—as someone she could lean on. Despite the blood of her kin staining his hands, he hadn’t harmed her, nor her family. He was patient and, in his own twisted way, almost protective—something her own parents had failed to be.

Adrien and Alice exited the dining room, walking silently down the dimly lit corridor toward the mansion’s grand entrance. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Adrien looked at her at the corner of his eyes as they reached the grand entrance. “They’ll come for us, you know.”

Alice knew her father’s nature. Though a man of principle, he always put his family above honor. There was a chance he wouldn’t tell anyone, hoping to shield her from danger, but after what he’d said to her… that certainty was gone. “I know,” she murmured.

The massive double doors were designed to be moved by multiple people—so heavy and grand that a single person couldn’t possibly manage. Yet Adrien pushed them both open with ease, the groan of the ancient wooden gates echoing through the hall. Without a word, they rushed outside, descending the wide stone steps that led to the mansion. The guards stationed nearby exchanged uneasy glances but did nothing to stop them.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a projectile whistled past Adrien's head, missing him by mere inches before smashing into the ground with explosive force. The impact threw up a spray of dirt and stone. Startled, they spun around to see Alice’s father standing at the top of the stairs, a glowing blue bow of mystical energy in his grasp. His eyes blazed with anger. “You dare walk into my home and use the name of my own father to mock me! I will never let you leave here! Do you hear me, demon? Guards, seize them! That fiend is a demon trying to abduct my daughter!”

Alice’s eyes narrowed as she extended her hand toward her father, focusing her energy on the spell. The air around her shimmered with a faint glow as she whispered the incantation under her breath. Her vision blurred for a moment, then sharpened as her Foresight took hold.

Name: Geralt Ashenvale Level: 70

Race: Elven

Class: Warrior / Ranger

Alignment: Lawful Good +600

Stats

Strength: 265

Agility: 230

Intelligence: 100

Charisma: 30

Mana: 5000/5000

Health: 26,500/26,500

Skills: Scan, Featherfall, Illuminate, Arcane Bolt, Foresight

Alice looked to Adrien with question. She was still unable to read his stats. But more importantly, what was her father speaking of? Adrien had a grin etched on his face as if he were toying with her father's emotions.

The guards snapped to attention, weapons at the ready, encircling them. Alice and Adrien found themselves trapped, backs against each other as they scanned for any possible escape. Alice’s heart raced as conflicting thoughts tore through her mind. Was this the moment to leave him? Should she try to flee on her own? But something—some deep instinct—warned her against it. Her father was driven by recklessness and fear, while Adrien stood unnervingly calm.

Name: Elven Guard

Level: 10

Enemy Count: 19

Race: Elven

Class: Warrior / Ranger

Alignment: Lawful Good +50

Stats

Strength: 17

Agility: 13

Intelligence: 3

Charisma: 10

Mana: 150/150

Health: 1700/1700

Skills: NA

If he truly is as powerful as my father claims, Alice thought, this could only end in disaster… for everyone.

The guards may not have been directly targeting her, but the lines between ally and enemy blurred in her panicked thoughts. Her gaze flickered between her father, eyes wild and filled with fury, and Adrien, cold and unreadable.

“Having second thoughts?” Adrien asked, his voice a low, taunting whisper.

She hesitated, knowing in her gut how this would end. The courtyard would be drenched in blood, her father’s included, if she did nothing. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she made her choice. “Please… spare my father. I’ll come with you.”

A dark energy swirled around him, whipping the air into a frenzy. The guards hesitated, but it was too late. His clothes transformed back to their former self, a grand cloak that cast eerie shadows on the ground. From his dark cloak, enormous, leathery wings burst forth. They unfurled with a powerful gust, sending dust and debris scattering. The wings were monstrous, black as night, veins glowing faintly like fire. But it was the sharp, blade-like points at the top of the wings that drew everyone’s horrified attention—like the tip of a spear made of bone and flesh.

Without warning, Adrien’s wings snapped forward, lashing out with terrifying speed. The spiked ends tore through the air, slicing cleanly through the first line of guards. There was no time for them to scream; the sharp tips impaled them with brutal precision, blood spraying as their bodies were lifted off the ground like broken dolls.

This was no different than when he dealt with goblins. These guards, skilled warriors as they were, fell just as easily. Alice’s breath hitched as she watched, paralyzed by the sight. The remaining guards stumbled back in terror, but Adrien’s wings moved with a will of their own. With every powerful sweep, the sharp tips sliced through cloth, flesh, and bone alike, leaving only blood and broken bodies in their wake.

From atop the stairs, her father loosed arrow after arrow, each glowing with enchanted light. But Adrien was too fast—his movements a blur as he sidestepped or deflected every shot. Her father’s voice rang out, desperate and venomous. “You would choose him, then? You traitor!”

More guards rushed in, encircling them. Her father didn’t relent, unleashing volley after volley, hoping to find a weakness. Adrien shifted his stance, and his wings curled inward, wrapping protectively around himself and Alice. She could see him flinch—brief, but unmistakable—each time an arrow found its mark.

Despite the pain that flickered across his face, Adrien’s gaze remained locked onto Alice. His crimson eyes met her wide, terrified blue ones, holding her in place as though he was searching her soul, seeking something deeper within her. The world around them seemed to fall away in that moment, leaving only the silent exchange between them.

Then, with a sudden surge of energy and a deafening roar unlike any creature ever known, Adrien snapped his wings open wide, releasing a shockwave that blasted the guards off their feet. The force of it rippled across the courtyard, scattering debris and toppling anyone who dared stand in its path. He extended his hands forward, and a torrent of black flames burst forth, writhing like a serpent through the air toward her father. The flames crackled in the air; their heat palpable even from a distance. Her father’s eyes widened, but he quickly recovered, releasing his bow and chanting a counterspell. A beam of brilliant light erupted from his hands, meeting Adrien’s dark halfway.

The energies collided in midair, sending sparks and waves of pressure spiraling outward. The courtyard was illuminated by the clashing spells, flickering between black and white as the two forces wrestled for dominance. Alice watched in awe and fear—this was no mere skirmish; it was a battle of masters of magic, far beyond what she was capable of.

Her father strained against the overwhelming force, his entire body trembling as he poured every ounce of strength into maintaining the deadlock. Veins bulged at his temples and sweat beaded down his face as he held on desperately, drawing out more power to hold the line. His teeth were gritted, but the cracks in his resolve were beginning to show.

Adrien wore a taunting smile, "Do you think your pathetic magic can hold against me?" He said, his expression one of amusement. He didn’t seem to be struggling at all. If anything, he appeared to be holding back, relishing the moment as if it were a game. The dark energy flowing from his hands was controlled and deliberate, his posture relaxed, as though this duel was beneath him.

Despite her father’s best efforts, it was clear who held the upper hand. The magical deadlock wavered, then shifted unmistakably in Adrien’s favor. The darkness began to surge forward, inch by inch, pressing relentlessly against the weakening powers of light. Her father’s spell faltered, flickering like a dying flame, as Adrien’s shadowy magic closed in.

"Please, don't kill him!"

Alice threw herself between them, her hands desperately grasping at Adrien's wrist. He was caught by surprise and the shift in his stance redirected the dark magic, sending it spiraling into the air. The skies darkened from how powerful Adrien's magic was, consuming the very light of day momentarily. With nothing to hold it back, her father’s attack surged forward, faster than she could react. In an instant, the full force of his spell struck her unsuspecting back, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs.

Alice’s eyes widened in shock, and she crumpled into Adrien’s waiting arms. His gaze flicked between her pale face and her father, who stood frozen at the top of the stairs, horrified by what he had just done. "What... have you... done! You pathetic wretch!" Adrien snarled, his voice laced with seething hatred.

Her father’s eyes widened in disbelief, unable to tear his gaze from his trembling hands. The image of his own daughter, stricken by his magic, burned into his mind. "No… this can’t be happening…" he muttered, his voice breaking under the weight of guilt and regret.

Adrien shot into the air, his wings beating furiously as he unleashed a barrage of black flames at the guards below. The guards huddled together, shields raised against the rain of fire, while Alice’s father watched helplessly from the ground. Adrien far surpassed his expectations, his magical powers grown considerably over the years. The black flames ate through the shields and consumed the guards who screamed in agony, they had no chance.

He watched as his forces fell apart. He watched as his mansion was set ablaze. He watched as his own daughter, limp and unconscious, lay cradled in Adrien’s arms, her head resting against his chest, eyes closed as her silver hair fluttered in the air. He looked to him in the air, stepping out from his hiding spot and pointing his finger at him. "I will not let you demon! You will not take another member of my family to an early grave!"

Adrien was done playing games. He hurled fireball at Geralt, the blast slamming into the ground with a deafening explosion, sending dirt and debris flying. Geralt rolled to the side, grabbing his bow and quickly nocking an arrow. He loosed three in quick succession, each one aimed straight at the demon’s chest.

“You’re not worthy of her!” Adrien snarled, deflecting the arrows with a sweep of his arm as if they were nothing. “She belongs to me!”

Hovering above the courtyard, Adrien’s gaze was set far. He looked down at Alice recalling her plea to spare her father. With one last, disdainful glance down to where Geralt stood, he tightened his grip on her and sped off into the night sky. His wings sliced through the air, leaving nothing behind but a fading trail of darkness as he vanished into the dark clouds.