Imina gripped the two blades at her waist with both hands.Sweat slicked her palms, her face unusually tense.
The air itself felt heavier.
"...Are you seriously thinking of taking on all four yourself?"Minori's calm voice drifted from behind her.
"If you don't plan to run, then good."Her eyelids twitched in frustration.In another situation, she might have flung an insult instead of a warning.
Despite the danger Minori gave off during their last encounter, Imina had never believed an alchemist—no matter how talented—would waste his energy training in combat.
She herself was no master of close-quarters fighting.And the man behind her was a magic caster, not a front-line warrior.
Together, they were ill-suited for a direct confrontation.
Yet they stood here anyway.
Minori glanced at her, faintly surprised.Their arrangement was a simple verbal contract—nothing binding.
Still, Imina hadn't fled.
That wasn't like her.
"…Strange," he murmured.
"Don't just stand there daydreaming," Imina growled under her breath."Use every enhancement spell you've got. Now."
She shifted into a low stance—dagger in her left hand raised near her chest, the right dagger angled at her hip.Her posture echoed that of a hunting beast—coiled and ready to spring.
Half-elf.
To elves, she was impure.To humans, not quite one of them.
Even in the Baharuth Empire, which was more tolerant than most, she lived under constant scrutiny.The looks, the whispers, the veiled disgust… she hated all of it.
Yet the man behind her had never once looked at her that way.
Not even once.
"…Sorry. I don't know those kinds of spells," Minori replied simply, hands raised in apology.
Imina's right eye twitched.
—
"Hey! Are you two done talking yet?"A man's voice cut in, light and mocking.
At the head of three masked intruders, one of them stepped forward, a silver dagger catching the moonlight.
"We don't want trouble," he said smoothly."We just want the alchemist to come with us."
Their body language made it clear—this was no polite invitation.
The one holding a chain sneered at Imina."Seriously, what's someone like you doing here? Flat-chested freak with no hips… Thought you were a man."
Veins bulged in Imina's neck, but her face remained neutral.Her blades didn't waver.
"She's ours," the dagger-wielder said, glancing toward a fourth figure—a woman in a grey cloak standing silently at the courtyard gate."Back off."
But the grey-robed woman remained still. Her voice rang out like silver bells.
"Oh my, you seem to be in trouble."
"…Would you like help? No reward necessary."
There was a teasing lilt on the word reward.
A woman's voice.Imina blinked in surprise, then scowled.
The phrasing was clearly aimed at her.
"Bitch!"The chain-wielder snarled, sensing mockery.
"You're dead!"
The leader snapped his fingers."You two—deal with the half-elf. I'll handle this clown."
He blurred forward.
"Haste!"
Boosted by a movement spell, the man lunged straight for the grey-robed woman with lethal speed.
—
But she moved faster.
Before he even saw her step, her fist crashed into his ribs—Crack.A spray of blood exploded from his mouth.
She caught him by the throat, twisted—
Snap.Dead.
—
"Brother!"
"BROTHER!"
The remaining two surged forward.
But the woman casually hurled the corpse into the one with chains, then shot toward the last with terrifying speed.
By the time the chained man untangled the corpse from his arms, his other comrade was already limp in her grip.
"You… you…"
He trembled, eyes wide.
The chain lashed out.
The grey-robed woman blocked with a stolen sword, a faint green glow pulsing along its blade.
The impact was absorbed completely.
Shing!
She twisted her wrist, the blade cleaving straight into the man's chest.
He crumpled.
—
In less than thirty seconds—Three armed attackers were dead.
It hadn't even been close.
Imina stared, sweat dotting her brow.
This woman's style…Precise. Efficient. Brutal.
Only a veteran of real slaughter could move like that.
—
"One's still breathing," the grey-robed woman said lightly.
She dragged the wounded man toward them by the collar.
"Want to ask who sent them?"
Imina eyed the woman carefully.
She still hadn't drawn her own weapon.
The man being dragged was the one who had mocked her earlier.
Clearly, this was an olive branch.
Imina didn't respond, but turned slightly to look at Minori.
"No need," Minori replied.
The woman paused.
"…Truly?"
Snap.
The last man died, neck broken.
His body hit the stones with a wet thud.
—
As she stepped closer, a heavy perfume filled the air.
It was thick, almost cloying.Minori's small pet—a two-headed shadow beast—wrinkled its noses and sneezed.
That scent.
He recognized its purpose.
It was meant to conceal something.
His eyes narrowed.Then—they lit up.
She finally came.
—
The woman reached up and swept her hood back.
Long, loose golden hair spilled down her back.Fair-skinned. Deep blue eyes. Slightly pointed ears. A perfectly sculpted face that revealed only its left side—the right remained hidden under a fall of golden strands.
She was young—perhaps twenty in appearance—but her eyes told another story.
The scent of alchemical masking powder grew stronger as her cloak shifted.
"Forgive the late hour," she said politely, lowering her head.
"I am Leinas. I have a question for the alchemist."
She glanced briefly at Imina—measuring her.
Minori raised an eyebrow.
Not giving your full name?
Expected.
"…Thank you, Miss Leinas," Minori said gently.
"Imina—take care of the bodies."
Imina blinked.
This was clearly an excuse to send her away.
Still, after a pause, she nodded.
"…Fine."
She sheathed her swords, slung one of the corpses over her shoulder, and silently walked toward the far end of the courtyard.