"Stellar Line: Slip Point."
Just as I was about to strike, I held myself back and adjusted my sword so that it aligned with the man's heart. The reason? If I sliced him open with my blade, my the blood of these sons of bitches would taint my one and only angel.
I won't allow that… I won't let my angel be sullied by another man's blood.
That's why I wouldn't use my sword to slash but to pierce.
And that's exactly what I did.
My wrist flicked with elegant yet deadly precision. The blade tore through the air, aimed directly at the man's chest. Right where his heart was. I was so fast that all anyone saw was a faint blur. The man's eyes widened before he even understood what was happening. He reached for the emptiness where his heart should've been, but it was too late.
I had already stabbed him.
Bone cracked. Flesh split. But most importantly... not a single drop of blood splattered. I pulled my sword back with such speed at the very last millimeter that the blood had no time to spray outward. His body shuddered… knees buckled… and the bastard collapsed like a lifeless sack of cloth.
"Tullan. Dump the corpse outside."
I only said his name. Tullan glanced at me briefly; the hunger in his eyes was instantly sated. Justice had been served, for him. He moved quickly, dragging the corpse away.
Mullan, meanwhile, scanned the other men. His eyes burned with cruel rage, but I held up my hand to stop him. Because I was going to kill them… without shedding a drop of blood.
I shifted my hand to the side. "Wait, Mullan. I'll handle these two myself."
The men's eyes widened. They had been quivering like pitiful dogs on their knees, but now, they were searching for an escape. Their brains were calculating… but their intelligence barely matched that of a dimwitted peasant. They knew they couldn't run.
"L-look, brother, you've got it all wrong… we--"
The first one tried to speak.
I took a single step forward.
Slip Step.
My feet glided as if the floor were slick with oil. In the blink of an eye, I was behind the man. I silenced his voice. He was the first dumbass to dare use his mouth.
I pressed the back of his neck lightly. He fell face-first to the floor. At the same moment, I drew a short dagger from my waist and drove it, in one smooth motion, into the base of his skull, right where the spine began.
"Stay silent."
The blade hissed against bone as it slid in. The man twitched once, then went limp. No blood pooled... I had struck so precisely that his brain shut down before the heart could even respond. Clean.
The second man had already turned pale as death. The idiot tried to scoot backward on his knees.
I stepped forward again. This time, I didn't bother with my sword or even the dagger. I simply raised my right foot and slammed it into his face.
His nose shattered, teeth flew out, and his head snapped back violently. He staggered but didn't die. Which was exactly what I wanted.
I raised my hand.
"Please close your eyes, my ange- I mean, lady."
My voice was soft, but laced with threat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Willabelle blink. She probably didn't understand why, but she obediently began to close her eyes.
I bent my knees slightly... let the tension flow through them... and gathered all my strength.
Then, I brought my foot down on the man's throat.
CRACK.
The sound was like snapping a lamb's neck but wetter, uglier. Cartilage, bone, veins- everything ruptured at once. His body slumped sideways like a sack of flour. A gurgling groan escaped his mouth. Like a cow chewing cud and then, silence.
The tavern fell quiet for a moment.
"Take the other bodies out, too," I said, and the two knight-brothers followed the command without delay.
The other woman gave me a quick thank-you and asked to be excused to the lavatory. The remaining patrons in the tavern lost interest faster than I expected. As if they'd seen this kind of scene a hundred times before. Or maybe… maybe they recognized from my ornate sword and polished armor that I was a nobleman and didn't want to meddle.
I turned back to my angel. My celestial love. Her eyes were still closed... which only made her look more divine. Now that I was seeing her face up close, I realized. She was even more beautiful than I had imagined.
I had fallen in love with her character while reading the novel. Now I was falling in love with her appearance. Her breathing was light, gentle. Her delicate chest rose and fell softly. I took a step closer.
She lifted her head slightly, lashes trembling under closed lids. When she opened her eyes… I truly saw her for the first time.
Her eyes… were pure white. Not terrifying, ethereal. She radiated serenity, peace. It was the kind of beauty that made me want to fall to my knees and worship her.
Her hair was pitch black, like silk, cascading just below her shoulders. Slightly wavy, swaying with a natural elegance. Each strand seemed to carry the depth of a starless night. To lose myself in that hair, to wrap it around my fingers... it wasn't just a fantasy anymore. It was a need.
My gaze drifted to her skin. In the illustrations from the novel, she was more than, but here... in this new world... her complexion was as pale as moonlight. Smooth, like a divine hand had sculpted it. There wasn't a blemish on her. I wouldn't tolerate even a scratch.
She carried a graceful fullness along her pure white form. Her neck was slender and regal; her shoulders delicate but strong. The simple black dress she wore hugged her curves perfectly. Her breasts, full yet shy, framed her upper body, while the lines of her waist down to her hips arrested my gaze. Every movement she made was a celestial dance.
Part of her beauty, of course, came from her being a half-elf. She didn't have the long ears typical of elves, but the otherworldly aura was unmistakable.
I took another step closer. Outwardly, I looked calm. Inside… I was trying not to lose control.
The urge to claim Willabelle -to impregnate her- was overwhelming.
I could've done it. No one could stop me. But I would never do that to my angel. Not unless she desired it. Because what I truly wanted… wasn't just to possess her. I wanted her to love me.
So, I had to control myself.
"Stay calm... this is your first meeting with her... don't screw it up... don't screw it up!"
I took a deep breath. My eyes traced her features as if trying to memorize every detail. My fingers trembled slightly. Did she notice?
She blinked and looked at me. The corners of her lips curved subtly. Not mockery, not disdain… Kindness. Maybe even curiosity.
I chose my first words carefully. My voice came out calmly, but sincerely.
"Are you alright?"
Willabelle nodded slowly. There was the caution of a stranger in her eyes but also the composure of a warrior. "Thank you… for saving me." Her voice was soft, yet clear. Like a spring. Not a curse but a blessing.
"We should leave this place," I said, my tone more serious. "The stench of corpses and their rotting breath… it's no place for a lady such as yourself."
With a quiet sense of satisfaction, I slid my pristine, unsullied blade back into its sheath. I said nothing more. Words were as worthless as corpses.
I stepped forward, closer to Willabelle.
She watched me.
She was silent, but not out of fear.
She was waiting. Trying to understand what I was doing, who I was, and why I was at her side.
And I wanted her to understand. In time. No need to rush.
As Mullan and Tullan dragged the bodies away, the tavern buzzed behind me, but I ignored it. Noise didn't matter. The world had shrunk.
Right now, the only thing that mattered… was Willabelle.
"Can you walk?" I asked, skipping needless formalities and getting to the point.
She nodded slightly, gathered the folds of her dress, and pulled her hood back over her head. Her steps were weak, but stubborn. She rose steadily. She was about to stumble, but I appeared at her side immediately. I didn't touch her. I just made sure she knew I was there. Like a sword: near, but never a burden.
She felt it. She turned her gaze to me. A faint smile graced her lips.
"Did you come here alone?" I asked as we walked, our steps gliding toward the tavern door. The air still held the scent of death, but it no longer mattered. Only one thing mattered now: Willabelle.
She hesitated for a moment. Bowed her head slightly. But the part of her that wanted to trust me… won.
"Yes… for my son."
"A child… how old?"
"He just turned five," she said. Her voice didn't tremble. There was no shame. No fear. Only the truth.
Of course, I already knew this. I also knew why she kept her face hidden beneath the hood.
But I had to act as if I didn't.
That way… I could help her. That way… I could get closer.
I had come here with a completely different plan in mind. One far more complicated and difficult.
But now, fate had handed me an opportunity to draw near my moonlight.
And who was I to reject such a gift?