"I trust you've done the deed?" the man asked, his voice steady but eager—his tone clearly expecting an answer from Elyn.
Without a word, Elyn snapped her arm forward and threw the sack onto the table.
*Thud!
It landed with a heavy thud, shaking the wooden table as it creaked slightly under the weight of the sack thrown atop it.
"Done and dead," Elyn said flatly—her tone sharp and final.
Leaning forward, she then reached out toward the pouch of coins lying in front of her, her fingers just a few inches from it.
*rustle! *clang!
But the village leader pulled it back ever slightly—stopping her hand in place.
Elyn's eyes narrowed as she raised one brow.
"Is this a joke?" she asked, her voice low and irritated. Her other hand drifted toward one of her swords—specifically the iron one.
The moment her fingers touched the hilt, the guards tensed and flinched in realization.
*buckle! *clank! *shing!
All four reached for their weapons at once, the room was suddenly thick with pressure.
One guard even took a half step forward—his sword already half unsheathed.
But before anything escalated, the man raised both of his hands in surrender, palms out and shaking slightly.
"I-I've just gotta check if you truly killed the beast!" he stammered, nervousness evident in his voice.
His eyes darted between Elyn and the sack.
"Then check," Elyn said, her hand still on the sword—ready to draw it in an instant.
The man hesitated for a moment, then reached toward the sack.
He untied the strap with trembling fingers.
As soon as the sack loosened, a foul stench filled the room.
It hit like a wave—thick and sour, like rotting flesh mixed with damp soil.
The guards winced and turned their heads away, faces twisted in disgust. One of them gagged quietly.
"Ugh!" the leader groaned, covering his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. Still, he leaned closer and pulled the sack open just enough to peek inside.
The severed head of the vrakkan stared back at him with its strange hollow eyes and twisted grin.
Patches of its fur were missing and bloodied—and its tongue hung loosely from its mouth.
The flesh was both bloated and discolored.
The man pulled back quickly and retied the sack, still covering his face in disgust.
"Gods above... that thing reeks worse than death," he muttered, voice muffled.
Elyn didn't flinch.
"Be glad it's just the smell. It used to sing. Now, the payment" she crossed her arms.
The man gave a nervous chuckle, still shaken.
*clank!
He pushed the pouch of coins back across the table toward her.
"Well then... payment, as promised."
Elyn picked it up and weighed it in her hand without a word, satisfied by the weight.
"Good business," said Elyn as she turned away and began to walk toward the door.
She stepped out of the room, the pouch of coins now tied to her belt—making resounding clanks as she walked.
As she went outside the room, the murmurs outside had already begun—quiet voices that grew louder as she passed by—whispers turning into pointed stares.
She kept walking through the hall, heading straight for the exit.
But just before she could reach the doors, a group of men stepped in her path.
They blocked the entrance, standing shoulder to shoulder with grins on their faces.
The one in the middle, taller than the rest—spat on the ground right in front of Elyn's boots.
"What makes you think you can barge in here and leave scot free, you freak?" he sneered.
Another man leaned against a wooden post nearby and chuckled.
"You need to pay a toll if you wanna leave. What say... ten kerrins?"
Elyn's eyes narrowed.
Ten kerrins.
That wasn't a small toll—that was daylight robbery.
A single kerrin was worth a hundred silver moons, and each silver moon cost fifty bronze ones. It was a fortune, even for a noble.
Before she could speak, another man stepped closer, circling around her like a wolf.
His eyes traveled down her body, inspecting her figure with a smirk.
"Or," he said slowly, "you could stay the night with us. Satisfy us a little, and maybe we'll let you go for free."
His voice was met with laughter. The rest of the group joined in—throwing out more mocking remarks and crude jokes, their voices echoing off the wooden walls inside the hall.
Yet Elyn showed no emotion.
No words.
And no hesitation.
She simply drew her iron sword.
With one smooth motion, a silver arc cut through the air,
*SLASH!
and in a blink, the three men standing in front of her were beheaded.
Their heads hit the ground with dull, almost quiet thuds,
*THUD! *THUD! *THUD!
followed by the heavy collapse of their bodies.
*Splurt!!!
Blood sprayed out in violent bursts, splattering across the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling.
"Kyaaaa!!!"
Some villagers nearby screamed as they were splashed by the warm red spray of blood, their clothes now stained.
The hall became a painted mess of red—thick pools spreading, the smell of iron quickly filling the air as Elyn painted a macabre mess across the floor.
A woman shrieked from the corner.
"M-Murderer!"
Panic followed. Shouts and clattering boots echoed as guards stormed into the hall, blades already drawn.
*Thud! *Thud! *Thud!
"What in the hells is going on!?" came the booming voice of the village leader as he burst through the doors.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw Elyn standing calmly, her sword dripping with blood.
Then his gaze dropped to the bodies on the floor—three men without heads, blood still oozing from the clean cuts at their necks.
His face twisted in rage.
"Y-You! What are you doing to my people, you bitch!"
He raised his hand and pointed.
"G-Guards! Kill that woman this instant!"
The guards didn't need another word.
They charged in, quickly surrounding Elyn in a tight circle, their blades aimed at her chest.
Elyn let out a quiet sigh, lifting her sword slowly, the metal catching the light.
"Just another day," she muttered.