Amid the rubble, the blonde stood there, thinking about what she had done wrong and what she had done right, but in the end she only managed to utter a single sentence.
"This wasn't part of the plan."
"Damn bitch, how dare you…" The masked mage stood there in shock, touching his intact chest. Even his own mask looked as good as new.
The half-elf, however, managed to snap out of the pressure and lunged forward with the last of his strength, pinning the mage's palms against a massive stone using the black crystal dagger and his own sword.
A scream of pain burst from behind the mask as the remaining cultists began to rise one by one. They were wounded and on the verge of death, yet they were still under their leader's control.
"Damn old man, let me go! I'm going to kill you both!"
The girl watched as the injured figures slowly approached, moving at a snail's pace while leaving trails of blood on the ground.
"Miss, hurry up and heal me. I can't hold on much longer with these wounds."
"Y-yes!... Understood!"
In a hurry, the blue-eyed girl placed her hands on the injured elf's shoulder, but the more she focused, the less magic she could feel. That worried the freshly healed mage far more than it worried the elf.
"You're an idiot for healing me, girl. With the incredible power of the Lord of a Thousand Poisons, they would've died instantly. But now that I've recovered, I'll capture them and experiment on their bodies. I won't let them rest in peace."
"Oh come on, old man, shut up already. I saved your life—at least show some gratitude by staying quiet."
"You didn't save my life, you ruined my noble sacrifice, fourth-rate healer. Even being beaten to death with a sandal would've been less humiliating than living thanks to your bitch magic."
The elf interrupted the moment by bursting into laughter so loud that Ebon thought he was mocking her.
"Hey, pointy ears, shut up. At least she saved us."
"Yeah, yeah, that's true, but this—ha ha ha… Ahh, in all my decades in the human world, I've never seen anything like this."
"Shut up! You only delayed the inevitable, filthy thieves. And you, damn woman, don't think I'll fall for your bitch tricks" the masked mage replied as he struggled to free his hands from the rock.
But with a simple flick of his fingers, the elf caused tree roots to grow from the ground, wrapping around the mage's arms and legs.
"It's not that big a deal. I just used healing magic by accident. It's not like I even know how—" The elf coughed loudly to cut her off.
"It's true you just obtained your Healer trait. You haven't read the instructions yet, have you, slacker?" Lucian said sharply, fixing the girl with a serious look to make her stop talking.
"Y-yes, that's true. Sorry for using it like that."
"Alright, miss, listen. Healers have very strict rules. Which ones you follow define your capabilities. But they all share one main rule: they can't heal anyone unless they want to first."
"Want to heal the patient? What the hell does that mean?"
"It means you can only heal people you care about. The more affection you feel for someone, the more effective your magic becomes. A Healer reaches their peak when healing the one they love—they can even save them from the brink of death. Do you understand?"
"Uh-huh, I see. How interesting."
Lucian tilted his head, signaling toward the mage, whose ears had turned red from all the information. Ebon, meanwhile, only managed to blush and shout in anger.
"Of course not! No, no, no, not a chance!... A-and I don't swing that way! I'm a man… I mean… I don't like ugly guys like that!"
"Go to hell! It's not like you're that hot either!" the mage snapped, his eyes never leaving the girl, filled with rage.
"Die, you psycho. And stop looking at me like that—I'm not a piece of meat."
"If you want, I can leave you two alone," the elf said.
"Go to hell!"
"Go to hell!"
The elf kept laughing while the mage and the girl avoided each other's eyes out of embarrassment. But none of that changed the situation, and Ebon knew it.
"(Damn pointy-eared bastard… It's obvious I don't love that asshole—I don't even know him. And on the other hand, the elf, whom I do feel grateful toward, I can't heal even a little… Something's wrong with this trait. That damn cat did something to me)"
The girl began to sweat from the pointless effort of trying to heal. By then, the cultists were already climbing over the rubble.
"Think, think… It's impossible for us to win… But maybe we don't have to win."
Ebon thought for a moment while looking at the black dagger in the mage's palm, then suddenly shouted at the top of her lungs.
"I invoke the Fifth!"
"What the hell?" the masked mage said as the cultists froze.
"What are you saying, miss? Hurry up and heal me."
"Relax, sweetheart, don't worry. You don't need to kill them."
"Sweetheart?" The elf raised an eyebrow, staring at the girl seriously.
"Yes, relax. We don't need to pretend anymore. These gentlemen won't harm us."
The small-chested blonde stepped forward until she was face to face with the mage. Pointing at him with her finger, she flashed a confident smile.
"Listen, bargain-bin mage. Either way, I saved your life. Technically, that gives me the right to claim a gift, as dictated by your traditions. And I choose that dagger you're carrying."
"Nice try, bitch. But the Fifth Law only works if you claim the gift for a purpose deemed trustworthy. So what's your intention with the dagger, thief? Selling it?"
"Of course not. I—I Ebony of the house of, umm… Stark, yeah, that's it. I, Ebony Stark, declare that I want the dagger in order to marry pointy ears—I mean, Lucian of the Emerald Gloves."
"Emerald Grove…" the elf corrected.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I claim my gift, and I want it to be that dagger. And if you have eyes, look at its color," she said, pointing at it. The moment the mage saw the black crystal, all the cultists snapped out of their trance and began collapsing in pain.
"It's black… how the hell is it black… You damn—!"
"It's already been used. Even if you kill us, the dagger is useless now because it holds our contract—our marriage. I'm sorry for stealing it, but it was the only way to half-marry without breaking the laws against miscegenation."
The masked mage didn't know how to respond. He tried to think, his gaze searching for lies in the girl's expression, but she looked confident. Meanwhile, the elf stood frozen in shock, his mouth hanging open.
"Heh… Fine then. If what you're saying is true, bitch, why did you heal me?"
"I'm a first-rate Healer. Even if you try to kill me, I can still heal you, so don't get stupid ideas. I'm already married." Hearing that answer, the mage seemed pleased.
"Uh-huh. In that case, you won't mind proving it, right?"
"No… I mean, yes… A little?"
At that moment, the roots rotted away, and the mage broke free from his restraints.
"I'll put it like this, you lying bitch. Right now, heal your lover—or give him a kiss. Either one will satisfy me. But if you don't, I will kill them, even if I have to break the bones of my own men."