After confirming the orc was truly dead, Tilisha tossed aside the overheated firearm—now nothing but a useless stick—and collapsed onto the ground, too exhausted to care about her clothes getting dirty despite her usual fastidiousness.
This time, the Golden Oriole system had saved her. She’d gotten lucky, of course. Mostly because this orc was a muscle-brained idiot who’d finished himself off without her lifting a finger.
No, that wasn’t fair. Most orcs were simpletons who couldn’t think straight. Another one might’ve pulled something even weirder.
Thankfully, this one was dumb and trigger-happy. Otherwise, Tilisha would’ve been done for—well, "overcooked" was more accurate. Being single-use would’ve been the best outcome. The worst?
Gold Elves lived over five thousand years. As long as she wasn’t too damaged, she could become a family heirloom, lasting forever.
Tilisha rubbed her head. She’d considered the consequences. Knowing exactly what "messed up" meant made the after-fear shudder through her.
But in the end, it turned out fine.
Why were orcs in Coleman Forest? The forest bordered Rugrien and had its share of nasty creatures, but only monsters—not Demonfolk. They almost never appeared here. Tilisha didn’t know why. Maybe a peace treaty between Demonfolk and the light races?
What if students passed through Coleman Forest now? They’d be in danger... Ah, right. She’d nearly forgotten the injured girl lying nearby.
Tilisha dragged her firearm to where the orc and the elf girl had fought. As expected, the Moon Elf still hadn’t woken.
After checking her breath, Tilisha saw only superficial injuries. The girl had fainted from exhaustion and fright—her first time facing something like this.
Tilisha opened the Golden Oriole interface. She winced at the token count: just ‘1’ left.
This week’s efforts were all for nothing.
She pressed the draw button. Rarity didn’t matter anymore; she didn’t expect a good drop. She just needed something useful.
The Golden Oriole didn’t disappoint. A flash of white light from the pouch, and a small, crimson potion landed in her pale palm—no longer than her index finger.
[Basic Vitality Potion]
Tilisha knelt on one knee, gazing at the silver-haired elf’s serene face. Her pale, delicate ears twitched. Her silver hair shimmered like the moon and stars.
She looked so much like Astrid.
Tilisha propped up the young Moon Elf, cradling her head on her lap. She uncorked the vial and poured a little potion into the girl’s slightly parted mouth.
"Cough, cough..." The silver-haired girl sputtered, eyelids fluttering open. A blurry golden figure swam into view, its double images slowly merging.
Oh no.
Tilisha covered her ears—to avoid suspicion. She hadn’t shifted back to human form, but she didn’t want anyone seeing these elf ears that marked her identity.
Luckily, the elf girl didn’t fully wake. She blinked once, then her eyes struggled shut again.
Certain the silver-haired girl was safe, Tilisha stood. She removed her hair accessory under a tree.
The golden-haired elf loli transformed into a black-haired human boy.
Orc ears were rumored to be medicinal ingredients. Their fangs could be carved into bone knives—among the few "loot" or "drops" from orcs. But cutting ears felt cruel. Extracting fangs required special tools, and Dilin had no interest in handling a Demonfolk corpse anyway.
Before leaving, Dilin found a large banana leaf to use as a mat for the Moon Elf.
He’d saved her. To do it, he’d used two Dazzling Potions, one Roaring Alchemy Pot, two firearm bullets, and nearly his own life. If she got hurt after all that, what was the point?
"Damn it." As Dilin stepped out of the forest, firearm in hand, he smacked his forehead and cursed.
What had this hunt even been for?
Completing the weekly quest.
Why complete it?
For tokens.
Where were the tokens now?
All gone. The rewards from them, too.
So what had he gained? Nothing. He’d taken all the risks for zero payoff.
Incredibly unlucky. Had he forgotten to check the almanac today? Though this world didn’t have one anyway.
Dilin muttered to himself all the way back. He didn’t know that moments after he left, four elf students in Coleman uniforms rushed to the forest’s edge.
They hurried anxiously.
"Hope we’re not too late... Are you sure Princess Astrid’s sister came to Coleman Forest?" asked a tall, handsome Wood Elf youth.
"Yes. I saw her this morning," replied the lead student—a Divine Child wearing scholarly glasses. "Orcs have been spotted here lately. Hopefully, she’s unharmed."
