The knife descended, lightly nicking Kaelxi’s fingertip and leaving a pinprick wound.

A single drop of blood welled from the cut. Witt grasped Kaelxi’s hand and gently drew the droplet into his mouth.

Her earlier scream had been pure panic.

One hand remained trapped in Witt’s grip; the other clutched her knees tightly as she buried her face against them.

She had no idea what fate awaited her.

All she knew was that she’d truly chickened out.

Whatever Witt asked, Kaelxi would answer.

Even the color of her underwear today—she’d blurt it out without hesitation.

Fear coiled inside her. She feared Witt would violate her. Feared broken bones. Feared her limbs being severed. Feared being sold to a brothel, trapped in endless torment.

To her, Witt was terrifying. Truly terrifying.

Witt flexed his left hand, satisfied with its recovery. His gaze returned to Kaelxi.

"So..."

At the sound of his voice, Kaelxi flinched violently. She lifted her tear-streaked face toward him.

She’d cried earlier—scared tears.

She dared not ignore him. This Witt was no longer the gentle boy she knew.

She couldn’t predict if defiance would earn her a blow.

"Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?"

"Yes! Yes! I’ll tell you everything! Everything!"

"No one forced me. It was all for money."

"I just wanted to earn enough to buy the bakery outright, hire help... so Grandma Elisa could rest easy in her old age."

"I wanted to rebuild the entire West District. So beggars wouldn’t scavenge sewage ditches and trash heaps for food or clean water. So they could live healthy lives."

"After all," the Elf’s eyes shimmered with hope, "I’m long-lived. If I save steadily... someday it’ll happen."

Since arriving in this world, she’d never dreamed of conquest or revolution. The little Elf had no grand ambitions.

(One truth she kept hidden: she needed enough gold to find an alchemical potion that could turn a female Elf male.)

Even now, trembling with fear, sharing her dream brought her a flicker of joy.

For a moment, she forgot her predicament.

Witt remained still after her confession. Kaelxi exhaled in relief.

Then he spoke again, voice low:

"So that night... what you did to me. Selling me to the mines..."

"How was that about money?"

"Seems you’re still lying."

Witt’s fist tapped lightly against Kaelxi’s stomach.

The blow was sharp but controlled. Kaelxi crumpled instantly, curling around her middle.

Tears blurred her vision again—she’d lost count of how many times she’d cried tonight.

Normally, she’d be asleep in bed by now, while Witt slept like a loyal pet on the floor.

*Hurts. So much.*

"W-wahh... I didn’t... please don’t hit me..." she sobbed.

"You wanted me to hate the mine owners. To wipe them out for you."

"Because they kept snatching beggars? Ruining your precious dream... and your gate-side business?"

"I didn’t... I never thought that far..."

Witt pried her hands from her stomach and struck again.

"*Hrk!* Witt... please stop... I’m dying... I’m dying..."

"I don’t want to die... I don’t want to die..."

She tried to shield her abdomen, but Witt clamped both wrists in one hand. She could only kick weakly, helplessly.

Truthfully, Witt held back. Even a hundred such punches wouldn’t injure her. She was simply terrified of pain.

Her agony was three parts physical, seven parts memory.

The chill of her past-life death—the helplessness, the suffering—still haunted her bones.

And this pain came from Witt, who’d once doted on her with infinite tenderness. That betrayal cut deepest.

"I just... you kept forcing yourself on me. Touching me."

"And you made me... leak. I was so ashamed..."

Witt tapped her stomach again. Kaelxi’s eyes fluttered shut, her body going limp.

He froze. That tap had carried no force at all.

Testing, he mimed another punch near her abdomen. Kaelxi burst into fresh wails: "Waaah! Don’t! Don’t! I’m really dying this time!"

"I’ll do anything! I know I wronged you!"

"I almost got you killed... but I never meant to!"

Witt feinted another strike. His knuckles didn’t even graze her, yet Kaelxi gagged, tongue lolling as she coughed violently.

When the fit passed, she rasped:

"I wasn’t going to leave you in the mines forever... I planned to rescue you the next day."

"Please let me go. I won’t dare lie again."

"I’ll never use my Class abilities for theft."

"I’ll just be... an ordinary Elf girl."

"I’ll sell bread for the rest of my life. No more foolish dreams..."

Hearing her dream, Witt had already forgiven her. A thief, yes—but not evil at heart. His later taps were only meant to scare a confession about the mines.

Her extreme reaction stunned him. *Did I become a Gold Rank warrior overnight?*

He mimed a dozen rapid punches to her stomach. Kaelxi went still, her emerald eyes dull and vacant. Mechanically, brokenly, she chanted: "Hurts... please... stop..."

Perhaps her pain wasn’t sensitivity—it was trauma.

Witt accepted this.

It no longer mattered. He’d leave this den of lies and chase his warrior’s path anew.

Kaelxi—the thieving but good-hearted Elf—would likely never dare break the law again.

Their paths would never cross.

Witt lifted her onto the bed and tucked the blanket around her. He’d leave at once to hunt goblins.

As he turned toward the door, a whisper stopped him:

"...Anyone... please save me..."

Kaelxi murmured in her sleep, trapped in the nightmare of her past death.

Witt paused mid-step. Hesitated. Then kept walking.

"Witt... I’m so cold... it hurts..."

He walked back. Leaned down. Clasped her hand.

Her trembling ceased. Her breathing steadied.

For one last night, Witt would guard the Elf girl he’d once loved.