Elaria watched everything that had happened in the last few minutes with utter disbelief. It was too absurd, too shocking to comprehend.
The young man had summoned a strange weapon that shot projectiles, using it to break his own chains and then hers. He had ordered her to hide, stating she couldn't provide assistance. While it was technically true—with the shackles sealing her magic—she could still defend herself using that power. But the thought of relying on it filled her with disgust and a terrifying aversion; it was inextricably linked to the trauma of being labeled a cursed child. Elaria shook her head, trying to discard the heavy mood.
Just then, three knights, each wielding different weapons, arrived. Though not overwhelmingly powerful, they were around level 3—a decent rank for guarding a small slave cart.
One of the knights hadn't even finished speaking before he dropped dead. The young man aimed his strange weapon, which shot condensed mana, and it pierced the knight's head, killing him instantly. He moved with swift, professional precision, using the element of surprise to kill another. The last knight, hiding behind his shield, thought he was clever, but he still fell to the boy's cunning ploy.
It was then that Elaria sensed a concentration of mana; someone was conjuring a spell. The young man, who had paused for some reason, seemed unaware of the danger, forcing her to warn him.
She tried to recall his name and finally remembered it.
"Miles, attention! Dodge to the left!" she warned, indicating the direction. The blindfold didn't mean she couldn't see; even with it on, her vision was perfect. The blindfold was special, designed to seal her eyes—those cursed eyes.
Boom!
After dodging the attack, Miles identified his enemies' location and immediately sprang into action. The mage was rank 3, while the knight was approaching rank 4—the threshold to the realm beyond human. Despite being far weaker, Miles used his ingenuity to kill them both.
Everything happened too fast. Elaria's worldview shattered; she thought she might be seeing things. Then, Miles collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.
"Probably from mana depletion," she immediately identified. Her interest in the young man grew. Maybe adventuring with him wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.
"Over here! They must be around here!" A voice echoed, followed by the sound of several sets of footsteps and the clinking of armor fast approaching.
Elaria was in a dilemma. She couldn't reach Miles before the pursuers arrived, let alone drag a grown man's body to safety. With her magic sealed, she couldn't cast a spell. Her only option was to rely on that power—the very thing she loathed. But now that she had decided to live, she couldn't allow herself to be captured again. The footsteps were fast approaching.
"Ugh!" She bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood spreading through her mouth. Reluctantly, she gave in. Raising a hand, she removed the blindfold, and immediately, a powerful aura burst from her eyes, freed after a long time.
Normally, elves are known for their ethereal beauty, with hair colors ranging from blonde to green and eyes of gold or green. Elaria had none of that. Her hair was white, and her eyes were a deep red with tiny, shimmering stars within. She hadn't been born this way; her hair was once blonde and her eyes golden. But during a ritual at the World Tree on her hundredth birthday, something happened. Her hair turned white, and her eyes became red. She was immediately labeled a cursed existence, blamed for the World Tree's sudden loss of vitality. Her affinity with the nature element vanished, replaced by eyes that made elemental spirits flee in terror. With them, she could see many strange and terrifying things.
The moment the blindfold was removed, she saw tiny particles moving everywhere, permeating everything—mana particles. She saw the elemental spirits fleeing under the pressure of her gaze. The sheer amount of information flooding her brain in real-time put an extreme strain on her body. Her vision began to blur, and a violent headache assaulted her.
Raising her hand, she forcibly commanded nature. It could not resist.
Tree roots violently erupted from the earth, gently wrapping around Miles's body before advancing toward her and enveloping her as well. They disappeared into the depths of the forest, leaping from tree to tree. Each tree she used immediately lost its vitality, aging and withering in an instant. This was the consequence of forcibly controlling nature—not through the gentle communion elves typically practiced, sharing their magic and a bit of vitality, but by commandeering the tree's own life force with her eyes.
Some might say her eyes were a wonderful ability, but they didn't understand. Every time she used them, an overwhelming urge to destroy, to dismantle everything to its molecular level, bloomed in her mind. She struggled to suppress it; giving in would result in another massacre.
Elaria finally stopped after putting a considerable distance between them and their pursuers. They were now in a place where they couldn't be easily found. Using a tree root to shatter their shackles, she gently leaned Miles against a tree trunk. Her head felt like it was about to explode; blood trickled from her nose. The voice whispering destruction wouldn't stop. She was at her limit. With superhuman willpower, she put the special blindfold back on.
Everything was abruptly cut off.
She breathed a long sigh of relief before slumping down beside the still-unconscious Miles. She snapped her fingers, and an ice dome formed around them—an elf using ice magic, a truly uncommon sight. She closed her eyes shortly after.
Elaria had no idea that the moment she used her ability, a certain entity sitting on a throne opened its eyes. They looked like Elaria's, but far more dangerous.
"Let's see how long you can resist," whispered the entity, its voice the same one that haunted Elaria's mind. It closed its eyes, and the shaking void around it calmed once more.