Mushiyu instinctively glanced at their hands and sure enough, found hers smaller than Melissara's. No wonder she always felt like a body pillow when held by her—she was simply a whole size smaller.

"I said, hand over the mir—"

Melissara's eyes suddenly turned icy, startling Mushiyu into choking back the rest of her words.

Had she angered her again? Mushiyu sighed inwardly. Weren't Elvenkind supposed to be nature's darlings, naturally peaceful and gentle? Why were the two elves she'd met so moody and unpredictable?

Melissara's face was cold as she asked, "What happened to your hand?"

"Huh?" Mushiyu was confused. Weren't they arguing about the mirror? What about her hand?

Melissara tossed the mirror onto the table, gripped Mushiyu's hand to prevent escape, and gently stroked the bruise on her wrist.

"Did Loran do this?"

As she spoke, Melissara noticed another small red mark on the arm, her gaze growing even colder.

"...I pinched myself." Half true, half false. For some reason, Mushiyu subconsciously chose to hide the truth. Perhaps she still saw Loran as good deep down, or maybe she just didn't want a rift between them—even knowing this wasn't Xiaoqing, that strikingly similar face made her unable to stay indifferent.

Melissara said nothing, just stared into Mushiyu's eyes. Mushiyu didn't flinch. She was telling the truth, after all—why fear ghosts knocking at the door?

Seeing Mushiyu's indifferent expression, Melissara grew restless. It felt like her pet had betrayed her to fawn over others. Ordinary pets were disposable—if they couldn't bring joy, why keep them?

But with this girl, Melissara couldn't discard her. Instead, she'd drag her back, lock her in a cage, so her eyes saw only Melissara, so she'd coo and smile—or cry—only for her. No one else would glimpse her body.

Not like now, where after being hurt, she lied to protect the one who hurt her.

Feeling the small hand tug, trying to break free, Melissara stepped forward, encircling Mushiyu's slender waist. She whispered low in her ear, "Don't forget what I said. Or I won't mind using force to help you remember."

A chill ran down Mushiyu's spine. She didn't know which words or what "force" meant, but instinctively, she knew it wouldn't be fun.

Feeling the body stiffen, Melissara smiled. "Then, repeat what I said."

That phrase? Which words? Mushiyu looked utterly confused.

Melissara waited. The words didn't come. Her smile vanished; her face darkened.

"You forgot?"

Mushiyu swallowed hard. "How about... a hint?"

Melissara loosened her grip slightly, eyes locked on Mushiyu's. "You want a hint?"

Danger washed over Mushiyu. She placed her free hand on her chest, watching warily. She opened her mouth—

A commotion erupted outside the carriage.

Melissara gave her a cold look, released her hand, and stepped out.

"What's with her... no, this female elf? Utterly unreasonable." Mushiyu began doubting Elvenkind—they were nothing like the gentle, elegant legends!

Instinctively rubbing her wrist, she noticed the bruise had vanished, along with the red mark she'd pinched.

"..." Maybe she wasn't entirely bad...

Outside, Melissara spotted a large pack of leopard-wolves nearby. Their eyes gleamed with ferocity, ready to pounce. Not just ahead—behind too. The entire convoy was surrounded.

"What's happening?" she asked Loran, who stood with a hand on his sword hilt, on high alert.

"I don't know," Loran frowned. "They appeared suddenly. It's strange."

"If it were just hunting, it wouldn't be strange," Melissara said.

Loran shook his head solemnly. "First, this is a mountains-plains transition zone—such numbers shouldn't be here. Second, their movements were too stealthy; no one detected them."

"Your suggestion?"

Loran glanced around warily. "Take an airship from Suxi City straight to the Elven Forest. Don't linger on human lands."

Melissara eyed the alert humans nearby, a glint in her eyes. "Do as you say."

As if on command, hundreds of leopard-wolves attacked. Roars, clashes, and magical explosions filled the air.

Before the battle, Melissara had cast a barrier on Mushiyu's carriage—strengthening it and blocking sounds. Inside, Mushiyu knew nothing of the fight.

To those who'd vanquished Adonis, the wolves posed little threat. Just beasts, no match for dragon slayers' magic and swords. Soon, half were down. The rest halted, turned, and vanished into the forest in an instant.

A minor incident on the journey home. No one's joy was dampened—happy for defeating Adonis, for still living, for soon returning in glory. Grace was no exception.

Yet fate was curious. No one knew what the god of fate would do next—extend a friendly hand or push you off a cliff. No one knew.