Percibell bites her lip, almost drawing blood, as she watches the thugs crowding Miss Melan. Patrak, despite sharing his comrades' infatuation and sexual desire, shoots them a doubtful sideway glance. He takes a look at Miss Melan, whose hateful, blazing stare has been boring a hole in him all this time. They start glaring at each other, and with each passing moment, Patrak's expression crumbles under the force of her challenging gaze.

Suddenly, she smirks and mutters quietly in unsuppressed disgust, 「Like father, like son,」

Patrak flinches in an instant, and rage fills his eyes. He whips out his dagger, looking dead-set on slicing through Miss Melan's neck.

「O-oi, hey, Patrak?! Hold up!」

「Shit, Patrak! What's gotten into ya? Let us have a turn first!」

Two of the men shout, baffled by their buddy's sudden outburst. Seeing Miss Melan in danger panics Percibell as she squirms and yells for him to stop. Patrak comes to his senses and lowers his dagger, but not before kicking Miss Melan in the face, sending her to the ground with a bruised cheek. Percibell winces.

「Where the fuck ya got all that confidence from, ya fucker!」 the half-orc snarls, his face twisted with fury. He sheaths his daggers and turns toward the exit, barking a command to his gang. 「We dun' here boyz! Let's go!」

Percibell's small chest heaves, relief washing over her at the turn of events. The other three men start to grumble at the prospect of leaving without getting their way. 「Ain't wasting these looks! I wan' taste of her!」 the orc in particular, with Miss Melan's coat still in hand, double-checking all pockets, won't budge.

Patrak picks up a small piece of rubble and hurls it at him, hitting him in the head, 「Ya pea-brained big fat idiot! I've got a rep to protect!」

The orc snaps back, 「Shut yer trap! You an orc yerself, don't go callin' me pea-size-brain!」

Patrack stomps his foot, 「Half! Half-fucking-orc! Don't group me up with ya' oafs! Does she look like a nobody to ya!? If ya ain't careful, yer head might be rolling tomorrow!」

After some more back and forth, the three men finally give in and start leaving with looks of kids who just had their candy stolen. One by one they pass by Percibell, who, after great difficulty, has managed to press herself against the wall. She wants to ask them to at least untie her and Miss Melan, but figures it's best not to poke the bear. Keeping her mouth shut and head down, she just hopes that they leave quietly without any more violence, but to her dismay, the man with an eyepatch stops right in front of her and roughly grabs her head, pulling it towards him to get a closer look.

「'Ey, speaking of nobodies, I've been wonderin' about this lass,」 he says, moving her head like a ragdoll. 「Almost missed it, but I'm sure of it now, she's got a bounty on her.」

Patrak stops in his track, interest piqued, and glances back. Percibell shakes her head furiously. Miss Melan, alarmed, exclaims, 「Patrak, you promised!」

「Nah, I know because I'm a half-elf. Before I got kicked out, I definitely met someone in the Elf Kingdom lookin' for this face,」 the eyepatch man reveals. Turning to Patrak, their avarice-filled eyes meet. 「They promised a hefty sum too. Taken with the blonde bitch's coins and coat, we might just be able to retire!」

「Patrak!」 Miss Melan implores urgently, 「Leave now if you know what's best for you!」

The warning seems to have ticked off the half-orc, because he suddenly strides over to Percibell and seizes her neck, hoisting her up on her feet, where the helpless elf struggles to stay up with her legs bound. Patrak glares at Miss Melan deliriously, and gawks, 「Arrogant fucker! Don't think ya can tell me what to do, ya posh slag!」 The incredulous expression on Miss Melan's face delights him, momentarily restoring his confidence.

「Oh, are you really sure about that, Patrak,」 Miss Melan begins, a sardonic smirk forming across her face, 「But, if I don't, won't you just end up like him...?」 she lets her voice trail off before clarifying, 「Your father?」

His grip on Percibell's neck tightens as his face reddens with fury. The mention of his father stabs Patrak like a dagger through his heart. 「Ya dare speak o' my ol' man?」 he snarls, his voice trembling with rage.

Percibell chokes and gasps for breath as Patrak's grip grows stronger. Miss Melan remains calm. 「You don't scare me, Patrak. I've faced worse than you.」

Frustration bubbles up inside the half-orc as he realizes that his threats have no effect on Miss Melan. In the tense silence that follows Miss Melan's words, Patrak and her lock their gazes once again in a silent struggle for dominance. Patrak's eyes, filled with anger and confusion, attempt to stand their ground, but the weight of Miss Melan's unyielding stare cuts through him like a razor-sharp blade. The air between them crackles with tension, as if the very atmosphere could shatter under the pressure. Patrak's pulse races. Sweat starts trickling down his brow as he realizes that he found himself in a duel where his muscles won't help him — as the seconds pass, the half-orc's confidence falters. The fierce determination in Miss Melan's eyes compels him to confront the truth. His gaze trembles.

「W-what do ya know?!」 he stammers nervously. The other three men watch, confounded and helpless at their comrade's agitation.

「You're but a puppet Patrak. Harboring a misguided belief that your blood dictates your actions.」 Miss Melan articulates, inhaling deeply as her chest rises and falls, her face focused, 「Succumbing to the same tendencies as your father, you're going to repeat his mistakes. And, let me guess,」 Miss Melan tilts her head slightly, 「You will abduct Percibell, allow your cohorts to violate her, and perhaps even partake yourself.」

「Oi, Patrak! Are ya just going to stand there like an idiot!?」 the eyepatch man shouts, motioning for the spear-wielder and orc to encircle Miss Melan. 「Why are ya taking this stupid bitch's insults?!」

Frantically, Patrak grasps for his dagger, nearly slicing his own hand. Finally managing to seize it with a shaky grasp, he brandishes the weapon at the elf's throat. 「S-shut up! Ya know nothing! If ya don't stop, I'll cut down yer little friend here!」 he threatens with a raspy voice.

Percibell's face fills with horror and despair, her body quaking as she wriggles, futilely attempting to escape the stranglehold on her body, 「Iiihhhh!! P-Please, Mother! Ophelia! Save me! I beg you—!」 she screeches.

Miss Melan starts chuckling. She continues, 「I know all about your kind. You will strive for a respectable life. But greed won't let you,」 she persists with a malicious smile. Each word feels like a venomous stab. 「You will continue killing, acting like some lowly villain, eternally influenced by your father and manipulated by fate.」

Patrak presses the dagger to the elf's neck with sweaty hands, drawing a trickle of blood. 「I-I'm not like him! I will never be!」 he cries out as his voice cracks. Meanwhile, his captive has started hyperventilating, the terror causing her to wet herself. Just as Patrak is poised to realize his murderous intent, a stone pillar erupts from the wall beside him, smashing into him and hurling his body across the alley, toward the opposite wall.

Both his companions and Percibell stand rooted in place, their expressions a fusion of shock and bewilderment as they watch Patrak loudly collide with the building. A few moments of silence pass before realization settles in, and they all snap their incredulous gazes towards Miss Melan. In response, she offers a sardonic smirk, lifting her arms from behind her back, the absence of her bindings now apparent. With a theatrical wiggle of her fingers, she presents herself like a master illusionist awaiting the rapturous applause of her audience.

「Get her!」 Patrak roars, staggering to regain his footing. His two henchmen obey without hesitation and circle Miss Melan like wolves. Meanwhile, the third member, the eyepatch man, lunges for Percibell, who, still bound and trembling, recoils with a shriek and stumbles toward the exit in a desperate attempt for safety. Why did Miss Melan have to provoke them? Now, they'll both be killed. As she contemplates this grim fate, she catches a glimpse of Patrak, poised to throw his dagger, aiming for her. Meanwhile, she can hear the ominous sound of the eyepatch man's incantation from behind her. It's over.

Heart threatening to break out of her chest and blood freezing with terror, Percibell squeezes her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. But the void of death never arrives. Instead, the air fills with groans and agonizing screams. When she opens her eyes, the once menacing gang of thugs lies scattered throughout the alley, each reeling from a blow delivered by an unknown force. Traces of magic energy are still lingering in the air, arcing between objects, walls and the ground as she turns to her benefactor. Their gazes lock, and Miss Melan's sheepish expression, coupled with her clenching her fists, trying but failing to conceal them, sends shivers down Percibell's spine.

What other secrets has Miss Melan been hiding? She knew there was something extraordinary about this woman just from her insanely good looks, but never in her mind did she imagine it would be something like this. Suddenly, she feels stupid and useless for trying to protect Miss Melan earlier. In reality, the roles of damsel and savior were reversed all along. Percibell averts her eyes, unable to face the emerald-eyed woman. She realizes she had even managed to wet herself. Now, disgraced and mortified, where can she find a hole to bury herself into?

Miss Melan approaches the elf and doesn't seem to mind her internal turmoil, nor the stench of urine emanating from her — granted, the alley has never smelled of roses. Without saying anything, most likely out of consideration for the embarrassed elf, she extends her hand over Percibell's bound wrists and conjures a tiny flame. Without an incantation. The elf is shocked. Wasn't she using earth magic? The bindings are reduced to ash, freeing her delicate hands — all without a hint of a burn. Never in her life has she met someone who can command more than a single element. Miss Melan frees her legs as well while Percibell takes the reality in. The petite elf can hardly recognize the woman before her. It feels like everything she knew earlier, every heartfelt moment shared, intimate or otherwise, all of it might have been a lie.

Having miraculously regained consciousness, Patrak groans awake as though recovering from the worst hangover. His body is hurt all over, with bruises and swollen bumps decorating his light green skin. The blonde woman notices him and walks over with slow but deliberate steps. In a frenzied panic, Patrak flails his arms about, desperately seeking his daggers, but fails to find them before the emerald-eyed blonde looms over him. He scurries backward with a pitiful scream, 「—Iiiiihhhhhh~! W-wait!!」

Percibell holds her breath. Her heart is pounding with trepidation. Is the woman she thought she knew also a cold-blooded killer?

「P-please spare me—!」 the half-orc begs, his voice cracking into a sob, 「It's not what ya think!! I-I was paid to do this!! We were told to just scare ya! I swear!」

Unmoved by his desperate pleas, the emerald-eyed mage sweeps her arm through the air, flicking her wrist. Percibell catches glimpse of a golden glow radiating from her pupils for barely a second. A surge of wind suddenly rushes through Patrak, engulfing him and lifting him up before pinning him to the wall like a rag doll.

Wind magic?! The elf widens her eyes in disbelief, but she has no time to dwell on it. An earthen pillar springs up from the wet mud and hurtles toward Patrak. Percibell is about to cry out in protest, but everything happens too fast for the petite elf to intervene. She can't even move her limbs fully, their sensation yet to return. The pillar slams into Patrak's solar plexus, and carries him on to press his body against the wall. Then, just as quickly, the wind releases him, and the pillar crumbles. He slides down along the wall, limp and bruised all over. Percibell bites her lip and averts the sight. Is this really the same woman she knew earlier? What's more unsettling is how calm she appeared throughout the whole ordeal — eerily expressionless. With the nonchalant attitude of someone just cleaning her dirty laundry, she barely eyes over the scene with a shrug and brushes off dried mud from her shoulder with a disinterested pat. When she turns to face Percibell, the petite elf can't help but retreat a step.

Earth, Fire, Wind — it's beyond comprehension that someone can command three elements. Just the mental toll of even two of them usually causes people to go insane. And yet, here she was, turning to face her with a sigh. Percibell feels as though she has just been roped into something outrageous. She can't bring herself to look at the approaching blonde, fearful that one wrong move will make her the next adventurer to appear in the Guild's death register this night.

「My, you have nothing to worry about, I just knocked him unconscious,」 Percibell hears the woman say. Despite having averted her gaze, the elf can almost visualize the expression on the woman's face just from the tone of her voice alone. It's the same sweet tone she has become used to. She can picture the same friendly and refined smile she always wears on her face.

「The rest... still alive, albeit severely bruised, if I am to judge, but—」 the woman speaks, now standing a step in front of Percibell, 「They'll live.」

The elf still doesn't dare look up at her. She instinctively retreats another step, her back now pressed against the cold wall. The woman extends her hands, presenting the elf's cherished bow.

「Fufu, you don't have to be scared, Percibell,」 the emerald-eyed mage reassures her, 「Now, let's go.」

In fear of retaliation, the elf feels forced to obey. She hastily snatches the bow and trots in hurried steps behind the woman who has now saved her twice in a row. She remains silent and keeps her head low as they leave the alley behind.