Night fell, and the hunting camp gradually quieted down after a day of clamor. Bonfires crackled, the footsteps of patrolling guards echoed rhythmically, and the distant howls of wolves or unknown beasts added a touch of primal wildness to this temporary center of power.
Elara was assigned to a small tent on the outermost edge of the camp, tasked with guarding some unimportant miscellaneous goods and being ready for any potential errands. Far from the bright lights of the main tents, it felt particularly dark and silent here.
Just as Elara huddled tightly in her thin blanket, fighting cold and exhaustion, almost drifting off to sleep, she faintly heard extremely suppressed, furtive voices coming from the edge of the woods not far from her tent.
Driven by an almost instinctual wariness, Elara instantly became fully alert. Holding her breath, she silently moved to a crack in the tent fabric, peering cautiously outside.
The moonlight was obscured by clouds, making visibility poor. But by the faint glow of distant campfires, she could vaguely make out two figures cloaked and hooded, huddled close together, whispering urgently about something.
The distance was too great for Elara to hear the specifics, but the deliberately lowered tones, laced with tension and conspiracy, immediately told her—this was trouble!
Her instinct screamed at her to retreat, pretend she saw nothing, heard nothing. In this place, knowing less was safer.
However, just as she was about to quietly withdraw deeper into the tent, her foot accidentally stepped on a dry twig. Snap!The small sound was startlingly loud in the night's silence!
The conversation between the two figures stopped abruptly!
One figure whipped around, sharp eyes instantly locking onto Elara's tent!
"Who's there?!" A low, menacing voice demanded!
Elara's heart stopped beating! She knew she'd been exposed!
Almost simultaneously, the two figures launched themselves towards her tent like cheetahs, silent and astonishingly fast!
Terrified, Elara wanted to run, but her legs felt heavy as lead! Before she could even make a sound, the tent flap was violently thrown open!
A rough hand clamped over her mouth, while another arm wrapped around her body like an iron band! She was forcefully dragged out of the tent, towards the deeper shadows of the woods!
"Little bitch! How much did you hear?!" One of the figures slammed her hard against a tree, his voice venomous. "Speak! Or I'll snap your neck right now!"
Mouth covered, Elara could only make desperate muffled sounds, her body trembling violently with fear. She could smell the thick stench of blood and earth on her attacker—these were definitely not ordinary servants!
"Brother, stop wasting time with her! Just kill her to silence her! Don't want any leaks!" The other figure sounded even more urgent and cruel.
The shadow of death had never felt so close! Elara could even feel the icy killing intent radiating from the fingers covering her mouth!
Just at that critical moment!
A dark figure, like the Grim Reaper himself, appeared silently behind the two assailants.
No one saw how he appeared; it was as if he had been there all along, merged with the darkness.
There were only two incredibly faint, sharp cracks of breaking bone!
The two assailants threatening Elara's life didn't even manage a grunt before collapsing limply, utterly silent!
The hand covering Elara's mouth loosened its grip.
Elara slumped to the ground, coughing violently, gasping for air thick with the smell of blood. She stared in horror at what had just happened, her mind blank.
Just then, the moonlight broke through the clouds, casting down a few cold rays.
Illuminating the figure standing beside the two corpses, like a demon from hell—Duke Reinhardt!
He still wore his dark riding attire, his face utterly expressionless, as if he had just swatted away two annoying insects. His hands were clean, yet Elara felt she could smell the overwhelming stench of blood emanating from him!
He... he actually... killed them?! And so... casually?!
Any absurd fantasies or hopes Elara had nurtured due to his previous "rescues" were shattered in this instant by the brutal, bloody reality before her!
This was no "white horse prince"?! This was clearly a devil who killed without blinking! A true... monster hidden beneath power and an icy facade!
The Duke ignored the bodies on the ground, nor did he acknowledge any hidden subordinates who might be responsible for handling the "trash." His deep, bottomless eyes, like frozen pools, slowly settled on Elara, who sat paralyzed and trembling on the ground.
This time, he didn't just watch from afar. He strode forward, step by step, carrying an invisible pressure, stopping right in front of her.
Terrified, Elara wanted to scramble backward, but her body refused to obey. She could only watch helplessly as the mountain-like figure cast a huge shadow over her.
Then, she saw a large, well-defined hand, covered in a black leather glove, reach towards her.
The hand didn't offer to help her up. Instead... it gently, yet with irresistible force, tilted her chin up, forcing her to lift her head and meet those soul-freezing eyes.
The Duke's gaze, up close, meticulously examined the tear tracks on her face, the terror, and... beneath the terror, the stubbornly persistent, tiny flame of defiance.
His face remained expressionless, but Elara felt that he seemed... interested? As if appreciating a piece of art... on the verge of shattering, yet exceptionally stubborn? This realization sent shivers down her spine!
"Quiet," the Duke finally spoke, his voice low, like the deepest notes of a cello, yet possessing a cold, metallic quality that struck Elara's heartstrings, "little thing."
His tone was flat, without inflection. It wasn't comforting, nor threatening. It sounded more like stating a fact, or perhaps... labeling his new "collectible."
Elara froze solid, as if plunged into an ice cellar.
She finally understood completely.
This Duke hadn't saved her out of any sense of justice or mercy. The first time, perhaps it was to uphold his unchallengeable authority. The second time, perhaps he found petty squabbles unsightly. And this time... he had merely cleaned up two pieces of "trash" that might have disturbed him (or exposed something he didn't want known), and she was just a conveniently present "little thing" that had piqued his interest slightly, something to be toyed with at will!
There was no salvation, only a deeper abyss.
She hadn't encountered some noble knight beneath an icy exterior; she had run straight into the Devil from hell!
The Duke released her chin, as if dismissing an object unworthy of further attention. He didn't say another word, didn't spare her another glance. He turned, his figure melting into the darkness behind him like a phantom, disappearing from sight.
Leaving Elara alone, collapsed on the cold, blood-tinged earth, trembling uncontrollably, like a desperate... sparrow, having just escaped the hawk's talons, only to find itself marked by a giant python.