As Michael dangled in the air, his feet

Kicking helplessly, he gasped for breath

clawing at the iron grip around his

throat. His blurry vision cleared just

enough for him to catch a glimpse of

his attacker-a black woman with

striking pink braids, her face twisted

with unbridled fury. It was Abigail.

Abigail's eyes burned with contempt as

She glared at him, her fingers twitching

slightly as if she could snap his neck at

any moment. Her muscular arm tensed,

the veins bulging as she held Michael

effortlessly off the ground. It would

have been so easy to kill him, to end his

miserable existence right then and

here. Michael, to her, was nothing but

Filth-a man so shameless and pathetic

that he wasn't even worth dirtying her

hands.

the town hall fell silent, the commotion

drawing every eye in the room

Onlookers whispered to one another in

disbelief. Abigail-the S-rank adventurer

a renowned hero--had intervened, No

one dared to interfere, not even the

guards, who stood frozen, unsure

whether to step in . If she

decided to end Michael's life, no one

would so much as blink.

With a flick of her wrist, Abigai

released him, and Michael crumpled to

the floor, gasping and wheezing as air

flooded back into his lungs. His face

contorted with pain and humiliation,

a stark contrast to the arrogant bluster

he'd carried just moments before

Coughing violently, Michael barely had

a moment to catch his breath before

Abigail, her expression colder than

winter, lifted her boot and crushed his

wrist beneath it with brutal precision.

the sickening crunch of bone echoed

through the hall.

Michael's agonized scream pierced the

air as his fingers and wrist twisted at

unnatural angles. He writhed on the

floor, clutching his mangled hand, tears

streaming down his face. His cries of

pain continued for what felt like an

eternity, his body trembling from shock.

The crowd watched in horrified

fascination, the power dynamic in the

room shifting palpably.

Aibigail, however, remained unmoved by

his suffering. She stared down at him

her expression hard. "You better get the

hell out of here before I change my

mind and kill you," she spat.

Michael scrambled to his feet, the pain

and fear overwhelming his senses. He

could barely muster the strength to

stand, but the terror of Abigail's threat

drove him to flee. He stumbled toward

The exit, casting a quick, pitiful glance

at Maria before bolting from the town

hall like a frightened animal

Once Michael was gone, the tension in the room remained thick, the air buzzing with the weight of what had just happened. Abigail turned her sharp gaze to the two guards standing by, their faces pale and their hands trembling. She took a slow, deliberate step toward them, her presence commanding. "What in the goddess's name are you standing around for?" she snapped, her voice steady but laced with a fierce intensity. "Get your act together or get out of my sight."

Abigail took another step, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "It's your duty to stop public disputes, is it not? And yet here you stand, like useless statues." Her voice dripped with disdain. "The discrimination in this city is bad enough without cowards like you looking the other way."

The guards flinched under her words, their guilt weighing heavily as their gazes dropped to the floor. Abigail's voice grew colder, sharper. "You were ready to let that scum torment a defenseless woman—tell me, is that what you're paid for?"

One guard opened his mouth to stammer a reply, but quickly thought better of it when Abigail's fierce glare locked onto him. His mouth snapped shut, and he shrank under her gaze like a scolded child.

"For your negligence, I'll be having a word with the city lord," Abigail continued, her tone icy. "Expect your wages to be cut for the next six months."

The guards' eyes widened in horror, but they remained silent. They knew better than to argue; Abigail held all the power, and they had none.

Turning her back to the guards, Abigail faced Maria, her harsh expression softening slightly. Her sharp gaze assessed the elf woman, taking in the pale complexion and the trembling in her limbs. Seeing the remnants of wounds on Maria's skin, a flicker of pity crossed Abigail's otherwise stern face. Without a word, she reached into her space ring and pulled out a small pill, offering it to Maria. "Take this. It'll heal you."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Maria's wide eyes blinked in surprise, and she quickly shook her head. "Oh no, please, don't waste such a precious item on someone like me. I'll be fine—"

Before Maria could finish, Abigail flicked her fingers, and the pill darted into Maria's mouth before she could react. It was done in an instant.

"You don't need to be humble with me," Abigail said firmly, though her voice held a trace of warmth. "You're hurt. Just accept the help."

Maria swallowed in disbelief as she felt the immediate effect. The pain dissipated, and the bruises on her face and body faded away as if they had never been there. Staring at her healed skin, Maria's voice trembled. "Thank you... Thank you so much."

Abigail let out a soft chuckle, her tough exterior cracking just a bit as she placed a hand gently on Maria's shoulder. "No need to be so formal, alright? We're both women; we have to look out for each other. What's your name?"

"Maria," she replied, bowing slightly. "My name is Maria."

Abigail gave a nod of approval, her smile warm but brief. "Nice to meet you, Maria. I'm Abigail."

Maria's eyes widened again. "Of course, I know who you are!" she blurted, her cheeks reddening slightly. "Everyone does. You're Abigail, the Flaming Bull, vice leader of the Full Moon Squad."

A faint blush crept onto Abigail's face at the recognition, but she shrugged it off with a playful laugh. "Alright then, Maria. This line is ridiculous. Let's go to the front." She said it with a casual confidence, as if there was no question about it.

Maria hesitated, her humble nature showing. "I don't want to cut ahead, it's not fair to—"

Before Maria could finish, Abigail firmly grabbed her arm and started pulling her forward. "Nonsense. With my rank, no one's going to say a thing. Trust me."

Maria, though reluctant, had no choice but to follow, overwhelmed by the adventurer's strength and the certainty in her voice.

At the front of the line sat the master of coin, a greasy man behind a cluttered desk, gold coins glinting from a large bucket beside him. His eyes widened when he saw Abigail approach, the flicker of fear crossing his face quickly masked by a thin, forced smile.

"Miss Abigail," he greeted her, his voice laced with fake politeness, "What brings someone as important as you to my humble counter?" His tone oozed with false courtesy, like he was trying to maintain control over the situation.

Abigail crossed her arms, glaring down at him with disdain. "This is Maria, my friend. She's here to collect her payment. I suggest you pay up." Her voice was as sharp as steel, brooking no argument.

The master of coin's smile wavered slightly as he lazily flipped through his ledger, fingers moving with deliberate slowness. "Ah, yes... Maria Gethnar," he drawled, clearly enjoying the theatrics. "Elf, 34 years old. Payment amount: 100 gold coins." He slid the coins across the desk, eyeing Abigail warily.

Abigail didn't even look at the coins. Her eyes were fixed on the man in front of her, cold and unyielding. "That's not enough," she said bluntly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Give her 500 more."

Maria's eyes widened in shock. "500 more? Abigail, no!" she whispered, tugging at Abigail's sleeve, her voice soft yet pleading. "That's far too much. I'm already being given more than enough," she said, her natural humility making her uncomfortable with the idea of taking more than what was offered.

Abigail turned to her, her tone firm but compassionate. "Maria, you've been through hell. You deserve more for everything they've put you through." Her words were like a shield, protecting Maria from any further injustice. There was no room for argument in her tone, but her eyes softened as they met Maria's.

The master of coin's face paled at Abigail's demand, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "500 more?" he stammered, incredulous. "Miss Abigail, 100 gold coins is already a fortune! I can't just—"

Abigail's lips curled into a cold, dangerous smile, her voice dripping with threat and confidence. "Oh, I see... So you'd rather I inform the city lord about your little side business? How you've been lining your pockets with extra taxes?" She tilted her head slightly, her words soft but lethal.

The master of coin's smugness evaporated in an instant. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he realized the trap he'd fallen into. "You... you wouldn't..." he whispered, his voice shaking. His hands fumbled as he clutched at the edge of the desk.

Abigail leaned in just a little, her smile widening. "Try me."

With trembling hands, the master of coin reached into his bucket, grabbing an additional 500 gold coins and placing them in front of Maria. "Here," he muttered, defeated. "Take it."

Maria stood frozen for a moment, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I... I don't know what to say," she stammered, still hesitant to accept such a large amount. "This is too much."

Abigail placed a hand on Maria's shoulder, her touch firm but reassuring. "Don't be humble with me, Maria. You've earned every coin. Let's go," she said, her tone gentle yet resolute.

With a small nod, Maria took the coins, though still overwhelmed. She tucked the pouch away carefully, glancing at Abigail with a mixture of gratitude and awe. Silently, she followed Abigail, knowing full well that she would have never gotten such a sum without her new friend's boldness and power.