Ayla noticed first.
As though a layer of the forest’s shade had split apart,
three people appeared between the trees.
Two Haraya.
Both with white hair—
a color rarely seen among Haraya.
One of them carried a massive axe on his back, while the other seemed as light as if she were empty-handed.
And the last.
A man with golden hair and a longsword at his side.
Aslo.
A demon hunter.
Ayla unconsciously glanced once toward the cart.
The cover cloth stirred faintly in the wind.
The inside was heavier than it looked.
“Stop there.”
The white-haired Haraya at the front—
Miryeong spoke in a low voice.
“Let’s talk for a moment.”
Brak set the cart down.
The wheels creaked once.
He drew the two hand axes at his waist and reached a conclusion in an instant.
“Bandits. Kill.”
“Brak, wait.”
Ayla raised a hand to stop him.
Her gaze fixed on Aslo.
“Hey. You’re Aslo, right? You left Schia and… now you’ve taken up banditry?”
Instead of answering, Aslo looked once at the cart,
then merely turned his head.
“That cart. Who’s the client?”
Liber’s eyes alone moved.
The spacing between the three, the placement of their feet, where their hands were going.
Even whether there was a path to escape.
Ayla laughed hollowly.
Irritation clung to the end of that laugh.
“Hah! Aslo. Did quitting mercenary work drive you mad?”
Brak cut in briefly.
“Mercenaries. Trust.”
Liber also nodded.
“That’s right. What is this all of a sudden?”
Miryeong glanced at Aslo and shrugged.
“Whatever it is, leave that cart and go back.”
The moment she finished speaking, the air changed.
Ayla smiled,
but only lifted the corners of her mouth so her teeth would not show.
“Hey, dog-mouth.”
Miryeong’s expression turned vicious in an instant.
Ayla continued.
“Watch your mouth.”
“I’m not generous enough to show mercy to beasts.”
Miryeong clenched her teeth.
Her fangs stood out.
The wind around her rippled like waves.
As Ayla loosened her chains,
the sound of metal rang low.
“Fine. Want to try?”
Behind her, Aslo and Muryeong’s hands moved at the same time.
Brak smiled brightly, baring his pointed teeth.
Liber let out a single sigh
and carefully retreated exactly half a step.
Without even time to wait, a chain flew at Miryeong.
For an instant, Miryeong thought of Melanie’s chains, but the nature was different.
It was not a movement meant to wrap around and bind,
but to drive in and pierce through.
Miryeong twisted her body and let the end of the chain slip past.
The metal scraped through empty air.
But the chain did not stop.
It struck the ground once, changed direction,
then crawled back up like a snake, aiming for Miryeong’s ankle.
Miryeong lightly shifted one foot.
The moment the chain seized empty air,
Miryeong’s wind rippled briefly, twisting the metal’s path by an inch.
The chain slid aside and gouged into tree bark.
In the meantime,
Brak charged in.
His twin axes came crashing down at once,
and Muryeong received the attack with his own axe.
A dull sound of metal colliding.
Brak smiled, baring his pointed teeth.
“Haraya meat. Tough.”
Without changing expression, Muryeong let the pressure flow away.
Then he retreated farther.
As if widening the distance from the cart,
as if drawing Brak along.
Aslo drew his longsword.
Not a sword meant to kill,
but a sword meant to sever movement.
With a short leap,
a flashing line was drawn, and blood burst from Liber’s leg.
Liber groaned briefly and fell backward.
“Ugh….”
Neither Ayla nor Brak paid it any mind.
Aslo immediately approached Liber.
That was when Liber smiled.
“I… tend to heal from wounds rather quickly.”
The line where blood had been flowing
was vanishing as if erased.
A red tint flickered in Liber’s eyes.
And in his hand was a crossbow, drawn at some point without anyone noticing.
Thung.
A bolt shot out,
and Aslo dodged backward, deflecting it with his sword.
—
Guoooooooo!
A roar like that of a demonic beast rang out.
It was Brak’s howl.
At the same time, a wave of vitality spread outward.
It did not compare to Adel’s, but the pressure could not be ignored.
Brak immediately charged at Muryeong again.
There was no technique.
Only an attempt to crush him with overwhelming power.
Muryeong did not dodge.
Hoo.
Muryeong exhaled briefly.
The surface of Muryeong’s axe heated up,
and a white flash flowed along the grain of the axe blade.
Crack.
The contest was brief.
Brak’s axes
split and shattered from the point of contact.
And Muryeong’s axe dug into Brak’s shoulder before stopping.
It was not deep.
But it was enough to stop him.
Brak laughed.
“Khrh. You bastard.”
The next moment,
a crackling sound burst out.
A white afterimage from Muryeong’s axe ran along Brak’s arm.
Brak’s body jolted.
His laughter cut off.
Then his knees buckled.
Miryeong drew the wind and leaped toward Ayla.
And she thought,
Don’t kill her.
Subdue her.
No awakening.
One blow.
Miryeong’s fist drove into Ayla’s stomach.
Immediately after,
the tip of her foot kicked up into Ayla’s jaw.
Ayla retreated,
swallowing her laughter.
Even so, the chain did not break off.
Miryeong dodged the chain rushing at her again and stepped back.
Then Ayla spoke.
“This hurts my pride… Are you going easy on me right now?”
At that moment,
Miryeong felt a chill.
In Ayla’s eyes,
a blue light was burning.
Ugh.
It was different from the chain she had been dodging until now.
A chain that must have been hidden from the beginning
stabbed into Miryeong’s side.
A sting.
It was not deep.
But a strange sensation remained.
Miryeong felt that something was wrong.
Liber’s hands were fast.
Retreat, load quickly.
Then fire.
For Aslo, that was not a major problem.
Block, close in.
Then swing.
An attack that avoided a fatal wound.
It was not that Liber failed to react to Aslo’s attack.
It was simply—
a will that said injuries did not matter.
The small sword at Liber’s waist shot toward Aslo.
Kaaang—
Aslo knocked the small sword away,
then stabbed through Liber’s shoulder and pinned him to the ground.
Liber smiled as he spoke.
“Haha… You’re strong. But you see.”
Liber’s gaze turned toward the cart.
“Hey, Aslo!”
Aslo looked in the direction of the voice.
The chain extending from Ayla’s wrist was wrapped around Miryeong’s body.
Ayla said,
“Let him go and put down your sword. Unless you want to see this bitch burn to death.”
Then she jerked her chin.
“You too, the one with the axe. Put it down.”
Miryeong ground her teeth and spat in a low voice.
“Damn it… What the hell is this…”
“Ngh….”
Aslo and Muryeong remained motionless,
trying to read the situation in an instant.
Ayla smiled faintly.
“What? Does it look like I’m joking?”
Aslo drew in a breath.
Those were not the eyes of someone threatening, but of someone “experimenting.”
Miryeong’s body reacted first.
The chain tightened once more.
At that instant, Miryeong’s scream burst out.
“Guuuuuugh…!”
A blue afterglow spread like a flicker through the gaps in the chain.
Miryeong’s body stiffened reflexively,
her muscles trembling on their own.
Only then did Aslo pull out the sword that had been pinning Liber down
and slowly set it on the ground.
Muryeong also pulled back his axe and set it on the ground.
The sound of sword and axe touching the earth
rang out louder than expected.
As the metallic sound spread through the forest, even Brak’s breathing and Liber’s presence seemed to stop for a moment.
Miryeong barely moved her fingertips through the gaps where the chain tightened.
Each time she tried to draw up the wind, the blue afterglow brushed over her first,
stiffening Miryeong’s muscles like a “command.”
Not with strength—
but by touching her nerves.
Aslo clenched his teeth.
It was not that they had lost the fight.
It felt as though
their “options had been taken away.”
Muryeong, too, did not move, keeping one foot forward
and one foot toward the cart.
As if enjoying that stillness, Ayla pulled the chain ever so slightly.
Miryeong’s breath cut off in a short gasp.
The chain trembled faintly.
Miryeong’s vision blurred.
The more she tried to call the wind, the more her fingertips stiffened.
Miryeong groaned and said,
“Ugh… you…”
“What did you do to me…”
Ayla sharply cut off her words.
“Shut up.”
Liber rose on unsteady legs.
“Ow, ow… You never really get used to pain, do you?”
The wound in his shoulder where Aslo’s sword had pierced through was healing rapidly.
Liber brushed over the wound once as if rubbing it away, then said,
“Now then. I suppose we should begin negotiations?”
Ayla said lowly,
“Liber. Brak first.”
Liber answered with a short “Ah,”
then hurried over to Brak.
“Ah, this is pretty bad.”
A deep red filled Liber’s eyes.
When he placed his palm over Brak’s wound,
the split flesh slowly began to knit together.
But it was certainly slower than when he had healed his own body moments ago.
Brak said as if exhaling,
“Thanks. Liber.”
Ayla watched the scene as though it were only natural.
That this was something familiar
showed first in her expression, even before words.
Aslo muttered lowly,
“A Mirkin of regeneration, is it….”
When Liber’s eyes returned to normal,
he lowered his shoulders for a moment.
A trace of fatigue passed over his face.
Then he smiled again.
“Now, then. We should talk.”
“Hmm… First, interference with a commission. Threats. Injury.”
Liber counted, folding down his fingers.
“And what else… Well, anyway.”
He grinned.
“I’d like you to compensate us for the damages.”