Chapter 25: The Mysterious Woman

[ ] = Doruuk's thought's

{ } = system message

The central man of the group steps forward with a determined stride. His face is a mask of arrogance as he points his finger at the seated woman.

"I see you still haven't learned good manners, huh?" His voice echoes in the suddenly silent establishment. "I think we need to teach you something, don't we?"

The woman turns slowly. Her eyes, cold as steel, examine him for a moment before nonchalantly returning to her meal.

I can feel the tension rising in the room. The air becomes dense, almost unbreathable.

[This is interesting. She's not cowering like anyone else would.]

The man, visibly irritated by such insolence, clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. His face contorts into a grimace of uncontrolled rage.

"Hey, you whom we picked up from the trash, you dare turn your back on me?!" His shout is loaded with venom.

With lightning-quick movement, he draws his sword and cuts the table in two equal parts. The dishes shatter on the floor into a thousand pieces, soup spills everywhere.

"I'll teach you now how to behave properly," he growls as he raises his blade again.

But before he can complete the movement, the woman grabs her fork with a gesture so quick it almost escapes me. A silver flash cuts through the air. The fork embeds itself perfectly in the man's throat, who opens his eyes wide in an expression of surprise and horror.

[Damn! I didn't even see her move!]

The man staggers backward, his hands futilely trying to grasp the utensil lodged in his throat. A gruesome gurgle escapes his lips as he collapses heavily onto the floor in a pool of his own blood.

The silence that follows lasts only a moment. The other members of the group draw their weapons in unison and lunge toward the woman. But she, with feline agility, leaps onto a nearby table and catapults herself through the window, shattering the glass.

The men rush in pursuit, pushing each other and shouting orders back and forth.

"Who were those people? And who was that woman?" I ask the other patrons in the restaurant, my voice betraying a curiosity impossible to hide.

No response. Only downcast eyes and sealed lips. It's as if everyone fears uttering a single word about what happened.

[Everyone knows something. But no one will talk. This makes everything even more intriguing.]

Curiosity devours me from within like an unquenchable fire. I can't stay still. I know it could be dangerous, perhaps even fatal, but my feet seem to move of their own accord.

[Is it a stupid decision to follow them? Absolutely. Will I do it anyway? Without a doubt.]

I quickly leave some coins on the counter – I'm not a thief, after all or mybe yes– and exit the establishment. The cool evening air hits my face as I scan the horizon. I can glimpse the group heading south, their figures moving quickly among the shadows of buildings.

{The character has used "Escape"}

I activate my ability, feeling energy flow through my legs. My speed increases dramatically, allowing me to rapidly reduce the distance without being noticed.

When I finally reach them, I hide behind the gnarled trunk of an ancient tree. From this privileged position, I can observe the scene unfolding before my eyes.

The woman is surrounded. No longer by the few men from the restaurant, but by about twenty thugs armed to the teeth. They are forming a circle around her, slowly closing off every escape route.

[I don't know why, but my enthusiasm is growing immensely. It's like watching a show where only I know the ending.]

I find myself watching with wide eyes and a disturbing smile on my lips. There's something hypnotic about this situation, as if I'd been dragged into an arena where a deadly combat is about to take place.

I can't clearly hear their words from my position, but the body language is unequivocal. Threats, insults, promises of pain.

Suddenly, as if at an invisible signal, the men attack simultaneously. The woman draws her single sword and assumes a defensive position.

What follows is pure art.

Moving with the grace of a dancer and the precision of a surgeon, the woman begins to mow down her adversaries. Her blade describes perfect arcs in the air, always finding its target with deadly precision. She isn't just strong; she's technically superior in every aspect.

[It's incredible. She's cutting those guys like vegetables on a cutting board. How strong must she be? Rank 6? Rank 5? Or perhaps even higher? I don't know, but I'll stay here a few more minutes before leaving.]

I watch her as she moves among enemies like water flowing between rocks. Every movement is calculated, every thrust lethal. There's no hesitation in her gestures, only cold determination.

But the situation takes an unexpected turn.

Out of nowhere, like ghosts emerging from the depths of the earth, more men appear. These aren't simple swordsmen like the previous ones: among them are archers with drawn bows, their arrowheads glinting menacingly under the flickering light of the city lamps.

Their number has almost doubled, and this time their determination is palpable in the dense night air.

And then I see him. A man different from all the others, evidently their leader. In his hands, he grips a gigantic sword that he wields as if it were light as a feather. His shoulder-length hair waves in the night breeze. His body below the neck is a mosaic of scars, testimony to countless battles. His arms are massive, muscles prominent and veins bulging under his skin. His face is the incarnation of anger and determination.

[All this for one woman... What is she hiding? Why do so many want her dead or captured?]

The men form an impenetrable circle around her, a living wall of blades and deadly intentions.

[What will she do now? How can she hope to survive?]

The woman visibly clenches her teeth, her breathing becomes slightly faster, but her gaze remains impassive as ice. It's evident this isn't the first time she's found herself in a similar situation.

She takes a step back, quickly evaluating her options. Then, like lightning, she darts forward with explosive violence.

Her first blade sinks into the neck of one of the swordsmen. Blood sprays onto the damp, muddy ground, appearing black under the moonlight. With a fluid movement, she twirls her sword, striking another enemy who collapses with a stifled groan.

But there are too many, even for her.

One of the men grabs her arm, another strikes her leg making her stagger. An arrow whistles through the air and grazes her cheek, leaving a thin cut that immediately begins to bleed. In an instant, the mass of enemies overwhelms her.

She falls to the ground with a dull thud, the air escaping from her lungs in a strangled groan. She tries to get up, but rough hands drag her down mercilessly.

They block her arms behind her back with abrupt movements, and then tie her up. The cold metal of iron chains tightens around her slender wrists. She's immobilized, at their mercy.

[It's over. I'd better leave before I get into trouble. If a warrior of her caliber has been overwhelmed, I wouldn't stand a chance.]

Slowly, even holding my breath, I begin to back away. My steps are light, measured, almost nonexistent. No one has noticed me yet, and every inch I gain away from this madness is a small personal victory.

Everything is proceeding well. Step by step, I move further away, invisible in the darkness of night.

Then, suddenly, an icy shiver runs down my spine.

The woman.

She's looking in my direction. It's not a casual glance. It's intense, penetrating, as if she could see through the darkness directly into my soul. There's no escape from those eyes.

[Look away! Look somewhere else, or I'll be in trouble up to my neck!]

But she doesn't stop. Her eyes implore me, asking for help that I know I cannot give. I feel a knot forming in my throat, a weight on my chest that makes it difficult to breathe. But I'm aware of my limitations. I'm not strong enough. I can't help her. I must leave, now.

I resume backing away, trying to ignore that gaze that haunts me.

And it's at that very moment that the group's leader notices. He follows the direction of the woman's eyes, and then his gaze falls on me.

And he sees me.

Time seems to stop for an eternal instant. Our eyes meet across the distance, and I see his expression change from confusion to anger in the blink of an eye.

Then, a thundering voice explodes in the night air, making my blood freeze in my veins.

"Hey you! Stop right there, or I'll split your skull open!"

Chapter-End.