After locking the corpses of the three mages inside their rooms, Glenn strode toward the courtyard where the cage stood.

  Within the cold iron bars, the elven maiden, Gotaya, dreamed of her family and friends—of running through verdant forests, playing, training, and listening to the wisdom of their elders.

  It had been a life of beauty and harmony—until the humans came.

  They brought slaughter and fire, ravaging the woods, and tore her from those she loved.

  The memories of those days—chains, cruelty, despair—flashed before her eyes, jolting her awake.

  And when she opened them, she saw a shadow standing outside the cage.

  Gotaya narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the darkness, but the night was too deep, the figure too vague.

  Just as confusion stirred within her, the stranger grasped two of the cage’s bars and pulled.

  Metal groaned, warped, and bent beneath his hands.

  Gotaya froze in astonishment.

  This was no ordinary cage—it had been reinforced by a mage’s enchantments. Even a third-rank knight could not have torn it open by brute force.

  Only when the man hoisted her onto his shoulder did she begin to understand what was happening.

  So… someone was stealing her away. Another human, hungry for spoils.

  How predictable, she thought bitterly. What a greedy, vile race.

  Around them lay the bodies of fallen guards. Glenn carried the elf swiftly beyond the tavern’s walls, setting her down in the shadows of an alley.

  Her wrists and ankles were still bound in shackles, but Glenn made no move to remove them.

  He didn’t need her bolting and causing more trouble.

  Gotaya glared at him with the same hatred she had shown the scarred man before. Glenn ignored it entirely and turned back toward the tavern.

  Puzzled, she hesitated between escape and stillness. But before she could decide, Glenn returned—carrying another man.

  Gotaya recognized him instantly: Fang.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

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  “The one who just saved your life. Can’t you tell?” Glenn replied lazily.

  Gotaya’s expression remained cold, her silence laced with disbelief.

  Unbothered, Glenn tucked her under his arm again, ignoring her struggle, and strode away into the night.

  Once outside the town, he tossed both passengers into a waiting deer-drawn cart. The stag, rudely awakened, turned its head toward Glenn with what seemed like quiet reproach.

  Glenn rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he was imagining things.

  Fang groaned awake, clutching his skull. “Son of a—who hit me?!”

  A heavy slap cracked through the night.

  Smack!

  Fang’s head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging, gums bleeding. Gotaya flinched at the sudden sound, momentarily halting her attempt to slip free.

  “Remember me?” Glenn grabbed Fang by the hair, forcing him to meet his gaze.

  Fang hissed in pain, squinting at his captor. Recognition dawned, his eyes widening.

  “You—! You bastard—”

  Smack!

  Another blow silenced him.

  “I’ll kill—”

  Smack!

  “You think you can—”

  Smack!

  By the time Glenn stopped, Fang’s face was swollen and bloodied, his breath ragged and uneven. Saliva and blood mingled as they dripped from his mouth.

  Gotaya swallowed involuntarily. She had endured worse, yet watching another suffer so violently chilled her all the same.

  “Stubborn bones,” Glenn muttered. “But it’s pointless. I’ll make you regret ever speaking.”

  He rose, fetched a coil of rope from the cart, bound Fang’s legs, and with a single kick, hurled him to the ground.

  Fang finally understood what was coming. “You can’t do this! The Hunters’ Guild will find you—they’ll make you die screaming!”

  He was trembling now, terror creeping through his bravado. The cruelty he had once inflicted on others now loomed over him, and he realized—with bitter clarity—how cowardly he truly was.

  “We’re all adults here,” Glenn said flatly. “You should’ve thought of that before.”

  He tied the rope’s other end to the cart and took his seat.

  Gotaya watched in silence, showing not an ounce of pity for the mercenary’s fate. A greedy, loathsome human deserved no tears.

  As for Glenn, she felt no gratitude either. Punishing her tormentor did not make him noble—he was just another man chasing his own desires.

  Glenn didn’t bother explaining himself. He simply patted the stag’s flank to rouse it.

  With a crack of the whip, the deer bolted forward, faster than any horse.

  Behind them came the agonized, tearing screams of Fang, dragged mercilessly across the rough earth until the cries dwindled into nothing.

  ——

  By the time they returned to Bayek, dawn was near. Ordinarily, the sky would already be paling with morning light, yet over this town, the darkness still clung.

  The cart’s oil lantern swayed and creaked as it bounced along the uneven road.

  Glenn reined in the deer, bringing them to a halt. Fang’s body had been discarded before they entered the forest. Only the elf remained, fighting sleep with weary defiance.

  Glenn stepped toward her. She startled awake instantly, eyes sharp, wary as a cornered fawn.

  “I’m going to take off your restraints now,” he said quietly. “Remember—I’m helping you. Don’t make me regret it, or I will teach you a lesson.”

  He lifted a fist, half in warning, half in jest.

  Gotaya frowned, then smirked inwardly. Another human’s trick, no doubt—sweet words to earn her trust.

  Glenn, seeing no answer, shrugged and tore the shackles apart as if they were paper.

  “There. You’re free.” He tossed the broken chains aside.

  Gotaya stood slowly, flexing her sore limbs. Her light armor—once the proud garb of a forest warrior—was torn and filthy, yet her beauty shone undiminished.

  Glenn was still looking when she suddenly moved.

  With a blur of motion, she twisted, her leg sweeping in a perfect arc toward his head—swift, precise, and impossibly powerful for someone so slight.