In their subsequent encounters, Melissara showed Grace only indifference—a profound apathy toward everything. Nothing seemed to spark her interest. Even hunting down formidable foes like Adonis felt to her like nothing more than stretching her legs after reading too long. Crossing the Cursed Dragon Gorge, one phrase captured her perfectly: strolling through a garden.
This impression was backed by power worthy of her title "Queen"—bottomless mana reserves, dazzlingly versatile spells, formidable and eerie contracted servants, and now, masterful swordsmanship.
True strength couldn’t be judged by what was shown. Was facing Adonis head-on truly Melissara’s peak? Likely far from it. Judging by the illusions her contracted servant had woven earlier, she hadn’t even begun to unleash her full arsenal. How much more remained hidden?
Just recalling that illusion sent a chill down Grace’s spine. Though brief, without Maelon’s timely arrival, she’d have lost her head before breaking free with her sword aura—and Mushiyu would’ve been taken by Melissara…
A thought flashed through Grace’s mind. Her teeth clenched unconsciously.
This was the second time. The second time Melissara had toyed with her like a puppet. Just like their standoff behind Boiling Stone Bar—another effortless defeat…
Unforgivable!
No one noticed the trace of crimson light flashing in the swordswoman’s eyes.
"Mushiyu, can you run now?" Grace whispered near Mushiyu’s ear.
Mushiyu tore her gaze from the battlefield, met Grace’s eyes, and nodded.
"Good. I’ll set you down. Run that way," Grace tilted her head, indicating a direction. "I’ll catch up soon."
Mushiyu looked where she pointed. Only shadows of dense, dark trees met her eyes—shadows hiding what seemed like ferocious beasts, waiting to swallow her whole.
"Don’t worry. Nothing’s there," Grace murmured, lowering Mushiyu gently to the ground as if handling fragile porcelain. "Go. By the time you count to one hundred, I’ll be beside you."
She brushed a hand over Mushiyu’s smooth cheek and smiled.
Mushiyu cast one last glance at the clashing figures, brow furrowed slightly. She nodded and turned to run. At that moment, Grace raised her blade toward Melissara and Maelon.
Melissara saw every move. She parried Maelon’s attacks with unshaken calm—even Grace’s sudden intervention caused no ripple in her rhythm.
Trying to stall me so Rain can escape alone? Melissara didn’t believe Mushiyu could survive this lifeless woods. Nothing thrived here. Nothing lived here. Her task was simple: find her little slave before she perished, and bring her back to the Elven Forest.
As this thought crossed Melissara’s mind, a flicker of crimson flashed in Grace’s eyes mid-charge. This time, so close, Melissara caught it clearly—surprise flashing in her own gaze. The next instant, Grace’s blade sliced across Melissara’s right shoulder with impossible speed.
Movement froze. Then—a pillar of crushing force swung down. CRACK! The petite Elvenkind body rocketed into the forest like a cannonball. Trees snapped with sharp cracks. A heavy thud shook the earth. Dust billowed through the trees.
The man gasped for breath, scarlet eyes swiveling toward Grace. With a roar, he charged toward Melissara’s impact crater. Grace watched his back vanish, then sprinted after him.
Melissara wouldn’t die from that blow. Grace wasn’t going to finish her off. Coincidentally, that direction led straight to where Mushiyu had fled. This strike had drained much of Melissara’s strength. Maelon alone could now hold her long enough. By the time Melissara dealt with him, Grace and Mushiyu would be aboard an airship, soaring to any corner of the continent—gone forever.
A smile touched Grace’s lips. But it froze instantly. Her heart leapt into her throat—
Time seemed to stop. The black-robed man soared high, pillar raised. A crater scarred the earth. At its center stood Melissara and a strange creature—a giant fox-like beast that had shielded her from the worst impact, now limp and motionless. Melissara pressed a hand to her forehead, struggling to rise. At the crater’s edge, a slender girl sprinted desperately toward her.
Mushiyu.
Time surged forward. The man roared, pillar crashing down. The fox vanished. Melissara lifted her head, meeting the attack with calm eyes. Grace poured every ounce of speed into her sprint, eyes locked on one point. Yet none of it mattered compared to the girl’s cry:
"Xiaoqing—!"
Melissara flinched, turning. A cascade of black hair filled her vision. A gentle push against her dizzy body sent her stumbling back. The black pillar slammed down where she’d stood. And there, in her place—her fragile little slave…
"Rain…"
KRA-KOOM!
