As soon as the girl mentioned calling for help, attracting a crowd, the fat man’s face stiffened, his eyes darting nervously. He leaned in towards the scarred man beside him and whispered, ‘Boss, what do we do?’
The law inside the city prohibits them from harming elves, so they always act secretly, fearing discovery. If the girl’s cries for help expose their kidnapping, they face brutal punishment. They would be labeled as heretics and impaled by the Blood Church, bled dry.
Considering the severity of the consequences, the scarred man stroked his chin and glared at Isis. ‘Damn it, what bad luck, to run into you, a nosy do-gooder!’ He pushed Isis roughly, sending her tumbling to the ground, covered in dirt. ‘Get out of here!’ With a wave of his hand, they disappeared into the alley, leaving the little girl to wipe her tears and struggle to stand.
Isis, ensuring it was safe, approached the girl and helped her up. She had to stoop down to speak to the small child, her height barely reaching Isis’s waist. Her voice was gentle. ‘Sister…’
The little girl’s voice quivered with tears as she rubbed her hands on her pants, showing no joy at being rescued. Instead, her expression was heavy with sadness. Isis, thinking the girl was afraid of retribution, wiped away her tears and soothed her. ‘It’s alright, don’t be scared. The bad men have run away. Let me take you home.’
Isis viewed the elves as her children, a creation of her own, so she couldn’t help but protect them. It was in Yggdrasil’s nature to nurture with motherly love. She knelt, stroking the girl’s cheek and asked softly, ‘Where do you live?’
Isis wondered about the lives of the elves in this city. She had seen none all day, only these unfortunate encounters. The girl’s plight made her question the true nature of this city, its splendor and vibrancy perhaps only for the Blood Church, while the elves suffered.
‘Sister, I… I…’ The little girl stammered, her pink lips trembling. Isis was caught off guard when she heard the girl whisper, ‘I’m sorry…’
A sharp pain shot through Isis’s leg. Looking down, she saw the girl injecting a strange liquid into her calf with a syringe. Isis stumbled back, her mind reeling. She collapsed to the ground, her vision blurring, yet her mind remained alert. She realized the girl must have been part of the plan all along, and their true target was her.
Two men emerged from the shadows, their previous panic replaced with glee. The fat man grinned at Isis’s helpless form. ‘Boss, you’re a genius! Who would’ve thought this plan would work on an adult elf?’
‘Of course! Elves are simple-minded and always ready to lend a hand. We can make a fortune off their kindness.’ The scarred man chuckled, approaching Isis. ‘Didn’t see that coming, did you? The elf girl you tried to save just betrayed you. But don’t worry, as a s*ave, you’ll hurt even more.’
The fat man sneered, ‘Why don’t you scream for help now? Oh, right, you can’t even lift a finger!’ The little girl wept, ‘Sister, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…’
‘No need to apologize. As long as you stick with us, your mother won’t lack money for treatment. If you don’t…’ The scarred man laughed, ‘Well, you and your mother might fetch a good price too.’
Isis understood everything. The girl’s mother was ill, and these men forced her to lure her own kind, threatening to sell them both if she refused. A small child, helpless against these men, had no choice but to comply. Isis felt a strange calm, despite the impending danger. Her mind wandered to Beacai, her heart pounding with a hope that she would come to rescue her, like a fairytale prince or a dragon saving a princess from a swamp.
‘Is no one coming to save you. This is what happens when you meddle in other people’s business.’ The scarred man’s greedy smile was interrupted by a silver figure appearing between them. ‘Are you looking for death?’ The icy voice cut through the air like a reaper’s scythe, sending chills down their spines. They recognized the aura of an evil god.
Beacai stood before them, her silver hair billowing with power, her white gown a harbinger of death. No one dared to look at an evil god, except Isis. For the first time, she felt safe in Beacai’s presence, a calm unlike any other.