The Oath-keeper’s Intervention

The demon’s attack was thwarted, but the sheer force of the impact still propelled Saranya a considerable distance.

“Freya…”

The High Elf, Freya, gracefully glided through the ravaged ship’s cabin, her twin wings subtly fluttering as she descended. Pure white feathers drifted from her back, each one landing upright on the floor, poised to form a perfect circle around Saranya.

The arc of feathers gently enveloped Saranya, providing a soft sanctuary. Yet, as the feathers neared Kaelan at the edge, their movement abruptly slowed, as if content merely to protect Saranya, unwilling to extend their embrace to Kaelan.

Freya hesitated, her moonlit wrist trembling slightly as she drew a sharp breath.

This High Elf, who appeared so solemn and just, clearly harbored her own personal biases.

“Save… save her…”

Realizing the dire situation, Saranya grew desperate, forcing a plea from her throat with all her might.

Hearing her faint whisper, Freya’s pupils contracted, as if she had just snapped back to reality. She swiftly lifted a finger, causing the feathers forming the arc to curve slightly, thus encompassing Kaelan within the protective magic’s embrace.

Having completed this, Freya flapped her wings, her figure flickering several times. In a flash, she swooped down and scooped up the dying Paresha, tossing her into her own protective magical array.

Paresha was semi-conscious, clutching the ritual knife Kaelan had given her. A faintly glowing white ritual array was carved into the spot where the priestess girl had been lying.

It seemed Paresha had sensed the impending danger and secretly performed a summoning ritual, which allowed Freya to arrive and intervene. This time, they truly owed it to the priestess.

****

On the opposite side, the female demon dropped her broken sword and beckoned to the male demon. He understood, using his staff to conjure a cloud of calamitous mist. Within the swirling vapors, the grotesque wound on the female demon’s face gradually healed.

“Oath-keepers of the Nethersea, traveling countless miles to interfere with Archduke Baroang’s expansion plan. How intriguing…”

The female demon raised a hand to caress her cheek. With her wound fully restored, she finally spoke without a lisp.

“So, Lady Oath-keeper, could you perhaps inform us which Nethersea prohibition our Archduke’s expansion in this world has violated, that you yourself felt compelled to come and stop us?”

“What you do here is of no concern to the Nethersea,” Freya replied, her voice cold, as if she wished no association with the demon archduke opposite her. This non-interventionist stance made the female demon’s lips curl slightly, an arrogant, confident smirk gracing her face.

“Excellent. If that is the case, then your duty extends only to protecting the summoner of the ritual, this one-eyed young woman. As for the remaining two—”

“I shall protect the remaining two as well. I advise you to leave this ship immediately.”

The female demon’s brows furrowed in displeasure, her cheeks puffing out. Yet, she seemed to still be wary of the so-called ‘Nethersea’ faction behind Freya, maintaining a negotiating tone.

“How about we each take a step back? You can take the half-elf—”

“No, I want both of them.”

Before the female demon could finish, Freya cut her off with a sterner tone. This naturally infuriated her opponent. Dropping all pretense, the female demon pointed directly at Saranya, who was still sprawled on the deck, making her tremble visibly.

“With all due respect, this insignificant human s*ave is likely of no value to you, is she? What does the Nethersea intend to do by protecting such a lowly race?”

“As I said, it has nothing to do with the Nethersea. This is my private matter.”

“You are too greedy!”

“You are the greedy ones.”

“Hmph!”

The female demon clenched her fist, smashing the nearby bulkhead to pieces with a resounding crash. A fierce gale surged into the cabin, buffeting everyone.

“Private matter… private matter… Oh~”

Repeating the phrase, the female demon’s expression turned perverse, her golden slit pupils narrowing. She glanced at her partner, and after exchanging looks, both subtly curved the corners of their eyes in unspoken understanding.

“Haha… Hahahahahahaha…”

With a piercing, high-pitched laugh, the female demon spoke to Freya again, her voice laced with mockery and malice.

“Lord Oath-keeper, you had best not have developed any… improper interest in this lowly, short-lived human. Otherwise… you know what that would mean for your oath.”

At the mention of ‘oath,’ Freya’s throat moved, and a slight furrow appeared between her delicate brows beneath the exquisite mithril circlet on her head.

“I do not need your reminder. I know what I am doing.”

“Oh, is that so~ We must have overthought it. We didn’t even consider what this creature looks like… A dying insect, filthy, base, ugly. The taste of anyone who would care for such an insect must be truly sickening… Hmph~”

Facing the demon’s blatant provocation, Freya remained utterly unperturbed, frighteningly calm. The High Elf knightess delivered her final warning in a tone even colder than before, almost mechanical.

“Today, the vulgarity of you demons has truly opened my eyes. I dislike idle chatter. If you are unwilling to concede, then only violence remains between us.”

“Do you truly believe you are so much stronger than that witch, facing us?”

“Whether she or I are stronger is irrelevant for now. I simply believe that until your Archduke has shamelessly made his greetings to the various Nethersea factions, you would absolutely not dare to lay a hand on me, an Oath-keeper… Am I right?”

The previous confidence of the two demons now shifted to Freya’s face. In retaliation, the High Elf narrowed her silver-grey eyes, delivering the final, biting remark.

“No matter how large something is, if it’s soft and incompetent, it’s utterly useless trash… I imagine your partner understands this principle?”

“Er…!”

That such a brazen remark would come from Freya’s lips utterly stunned the female demon, whose eyes instantly widened. Purple demonic energy surged and swirled around her.

However, just as Freya had predicted, the male demon, Red, pulled back his impulsive companion. “Serenina, she is indeed correct… We cannot…”

“Very well…” The female demon, Serenina, flushed then paled, eventually dispersing the surrounding demonic energy. She hissed the words through gritted teeth, casting one last venomous glance at Saranya, then spun around and roared at her companion, “Let’s go!”

The calamitous mist thickened, swallowing the figures of the two demons. Then, like a receding tide, it rapidly withdrew to the upper deck, escaping through the gaping hole. Immediately after, the sky outside gradually cleared, the turbulent waves calmed, and the murloc monsters leaped into the sea. All signs of the demonic disaster swiftly receded.

Silence once again settled within the ship’s cabin.

Freya folded her wings, the pure white demonic energy swirling around her slowly dissipating. Her majestic, upright posture seemed to relax slightly. The High Elf turned, facing Saranya and the other two.

“Fre—”

Saranya’s parched lips could barely part, unable to even utter a complete name.

But a single syllable was enough.

Freya’s beautiful pointed ears twitched, her silver-blue eyes passing over the unconscious Paresha and Kaelan, settling on the dying, blood-soaked Saranya. She subtly swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

“Wait there. Do not speak.”

After a moment of contemplation, the High Elf knelt on one knee, removed her gauntlet, and lifted the small witch’s body as if she were a chicken. She made an incision on the witch’s wrist, collecting a small handful of her blood.

Next, Freya carefully approached Saranya, gently cupping her chin with one hand and bringing the other to her lips. She allowed the blood in her hand to flow at an extremely slow pace, slowly seeping into Saranya’s mouth from the web of her thumb.

Though it should have been metallic, Saranya found the blood tasted sweet and delicious.

“Mmm… Master’s… er…”

In a daze, Saranya let out a faint whimper, opening her mouth wider in craving.

Freya’s expression became somewhat unnatural; Saranya couldn’t quite describe the complex look. If she had to compare it to a taste, it was probably… sour, with a hint of bitterness.

Regardless, Freya’s knuckles slowly contracted, pressing tighter against Saranya’s lips with each passing second.

The final drop of blood tilted and slid, flowing into Saranya’s mouth. The shattered wound tissues on Saranya’s abdomen visibly writhed and grew, healing completely into pristine, snow-white flesh amid a sensation of warmth and tingling. A satisfied curve played on Saranya’s lips as she drifted into a deep sleep. In her fading consciousness, she only saw Freya silently withdraw her hand, letting her head rest beside Kaelan.