Muffled sounds of men talking grow louder as Melan regains consciousness.

「o— shu— it!」

「Don't— f— — me! 」

The voices sound angry as if arguing with each other. Finally, they become clear.

「Oi, what the fuck do we do now.」, the deep voice from before resounds.

「Tch, relax, we just gotta wait it out. A spell this powerful can't be kept up for long anyway. She would have ta be the Elf Queen. An' when it runs out, I bet you she will be as weak as a kitten,」 another man says, but this time with a familiar voice.

Upon recognizing it, Melan's eyes snap open, and she sees the world turned 90 degrees. She tries to move her hands but soon discovers them being bound behind her back. Her clothes have been dirtied with some muddy substance in a few spots, and her roughened hair partially falls over her face.

「Oh, the cutie has awakened!」 the familiar voice sounds.

Melan squirms and manages to sit upright. Looking around, she takes in the tall walls, dirty with a yellowish sheen, as if pissed upon, surrounding her. Dirt and trash litter the ground, and the air is thick with smells of dried urine and something rotten, causing her to crinkle her nose in disgust. She is facing the wall, but hears the perpetrators behind her.

Turning her body around, she spots four men. One tall and muscular, with a bare torso, dark green skin, big short but pointy ears, large tusks sticking out upwards, and a large nose with flared nostrils - an orc, panting, with a big club in hand. Next to him stands a slightly smaller character, more resembling of a regular human. He has medium-long, disheveled black hair, an eye patch covering one eye, and seemingly no weapon. He is standing with crossed arms, looking dissatisfied. Below these two men crouches a man with a familiar face. Patrak holds his feet firmly on the ground while showing his signature grin while holding two shiny daggers, one in each hand. His back bent to balance out his posture, he seems to loom over Melan, even though he's almost at her eye level.

「Yo, missy. I missed ya,」 Patrak jeers while giving her a dirty expression.

「Iyaaa... I must say, I was right when I said ya' were out t' kill someone,」 he pauses and gestures behind him without turning, 「He was being so kind as to carry ya but just look at what ya did to ma friend!」

Melan spots a man of unclear race kneeling with both arms on the ground while groaning in pain. Behind him are lights and muffled sounds coming from the street she had been walking on.

「I don't know what kinda shit ya pulled off, but ya better be prepared to pay up.」

Patrak's face turns into a sudden scowl.

Melan watches on in silence. A few moments pass, then the orc grips his club with both hands and approaches Melan while shouting with a deep voice, 「Fucking bitch! Say something!」

He stomps his foot on the ground and swings his club in a large arc, aiming for Melan's abdomen, but upon contact an electric current appears and an explosion of white sparks flies everywhere. The club flies back at the same speed it arrived with, pulling the orc's arms and causing his entire body to swivel around before falling down on his knees.

「Graaarrghh!」, he screams.

「God fucking dang it, ya big fat idiot, when are ya gonna learn not to do that? Why are orcs so pea-size-brained, sheesh」, Patrak shouts.

「Shut your trap! You're an orc yourself, don't talk about being pea-size-brains」, the orc fires back still on his knees, panting heavily.

「Half! Half-fucking-orc! Don't group me up with ya' oafs. I've got a reputation to protect!」

Melan, seemingly unperturbed by the earlier incident, exhales, stealing the attention of the men. With all eyes on her again, they watch on in silence as her face twitches and she struggles to keep a straight face.

「Hahahahahaha!」, a high pitched, maniacal laughter echoes in the narrow alleyway.

Frowns appear on the men's faces as Melan continues laughing uncontrollably.

Finally, after a short while, her fit of laughter sees the end.

A menacing scowl appears on Patrak's face, completely destroying his moderately handsome look.

「And what the fuck might ya be laffin' about? Bitch,」 he spits out.

「Oh, pardon me... My, I was just enjoying a little jest at your expense,」 she says while trying to keep from bursting into another fit of laughter.

Patrak finally stands up from his slav squat and walks towards her. He kneels down to her face level and eyes her up from close enough to almost bump their noses.

「Filthy. What a pungent one you are,」 Melan spits out with her nose crinkled.

Patrak nonchalantly pulls out one of his daggers and slowly moves it toward her face. Once the tip touches her chin, a small sizzling sound rings, and small white sparks fly about.

「Is that it? The source af ya confidence?」 he asks slowly while letting a wide sinister smile form on his face, 「I can't wait to rough up that pretty li'l face of yours.」

「I see. Just like how you were conceived. Have you brought your father along to provide lessons on raping?」 Melan remarks, a smug smile covering her face while she nods towards the orc, causing more sparks to fly from the dagger touching her chin.

Patrak grinds his teeth with a growl and tries to push the tip of the dagger deeper, but it only results in a small explosion of sparks.

「O-oi, I thought you said that shit would run out soon? 's almost been an hour!」 the eye patch man cries out, breaking his long silence.

Patrak clicks his tongue and stands up, turning his back against Melan.

「Sumthin' dodgy's happening! Where the fuck is she pullin' all this mana from? Ain't s'pose to be enuff in Wilderness for this! She would have ta be on par with tha' Queen for fuck sakes!」

Letting the men argue amongst themselves, Melan is busy trying to move her hands behind her back. Repeatedly contracting and flexing her fingers, she soon starts feeling her sense of touch come back. She closes her eyes and mumbles something indecipherable. A moment later her binds start rapidly burning. Biting her lips in pain, she endures the heat until her hands are released. Not a second passes by before she starts preparing another spell.

「Oi! She's standing up?!」 the eye patch man shouts, but before the other men can turn towards her, a tall and wide, thin wall of stone erects down the length of the alleyway, separating the men to either side. Melan stretches her arms out, keeping them close together, her fingers covered in a bluish glow. She then moves her ams apart in a swift motion, as if they were repelled by a magnetic force. The erected wall immediately splits into two and follows the motion of her arms, each side pushing into the men with high velocity before ramming into the walls of the narrow alleyway and breaking apart.

「Guuuaarghh!」 the men scream and groan before falling flat to the ground.

They appear unconscious as Melan starts walking toward Patrak, who is lying on the ground with his eyes upturned and a twitching, open mouth. One of his arms has been bent the wrong way while one of his daggers is lodged into the other. Melan stares with a menacing gaze as a trickle of blood is seeping out from his mouth.

「Like father like son,」 she says before snatching both of his daggers, one of them leaving his arm wounded, with blood seeping out.

「I must say, these are really shiny. Fortunately for you, I'm no thief. Oh, and, those Hebra juices were really delicious, I don't think I ever thanked you properly for them, so thank you,」 she says before throwing the daggers in the corner of the alleyway.

A sudden groan comes from her side. Looking down, she spots the eye patch man trying to get up. They lock eyes.

「It's futile, are you not a mage? You should know you stand no chance.」

「Ihhhh~!」

Not heeding her warning, the man springs up to his feet as well as he can, and, with a sprained ankle, runs for the exit.

Melan raises her hand and a fist-sized stone juts upwards from the ground before stopping suspended in mid-air in front of her. With a push, the stone flies at him.

As if having anticipated it, the man suddenly stops in his track and turns around swiftly while finishing the last stages of a chant. 「—... hydros encircle...!」

He makes a ring with his index and thumb before putting it in front of his mouth. In an instant, a stream of water gushes out from the ring, repelling the rock.

The jet of water continues towards Melan, but she sidesteps it with a frantic expression.

A few droplets still manage to hit her leg. Where they touch, they explode in sparks of white and sizzle, causing her to recoil in pain.

Witnessing this, the man, looking as if he just aged 10 years, widens his eyes, but doesn't stop to do a double-take and continues desperately limping away into the street.

「Curses!」 Melan exclaims while examining her leg.

She exhales before setting her sight towards the exit.

§

Walking out of the alleyway, Melan is once more met with the scene of people passing back and forth. She looks around trying to figure out where they carried her. To her right are stalls selling horse riding equipment and a hole-in-the-wall food vendor selling crude-looking pastries. Looking to the left, she sees a gathering of heavily armored people around the entrance of a huge building with a crude sign above that reads [Adventurers' Guild].

Near the entrance, she spots a few people, isolated from the larger gathering, surrounding a skinny, timid-looking girl about one head shorter than herself. Looking closer, she notices how the two long, pointy ears poking out of her head are drawing attention by fluttering about

She has slightly disheveled, cream-colored hair - a color that is closer to white than flaxen-blond - reaching all the way down to her waist. Along with a patchy, navy blue cloak covering a worn out, brown linen vest, gathered, grey linen skirt with a hole in the hem on the side, and the badly scratched thigh-high boots she's wearing, she's covered in grime and dirt from head to toe. A bow without a string is fastened around her back along with a quiver containing several arrows, one of which appears to be missing a fletchling.

The girl is talking and frantically moving her hands as if in denial about something while fluttering her pointy ears. Her big, silvery eyes jut around from one person to the next while her round cheeks flush a bright red visible even under the dirt covering them like camouflage. The people surrounding the petite elf are getting increasingly closer and look about ready to pounce at any second. Intrigued, Melan decides to close in on them, getting within their earshot.

「Awa-wawa... Please, I already said that I don't want to」 the girl says, nervously waving her hands.

「Come on, stop making the situation more difficult for everyone! It'll be quick!」 a coarse-sounding voice coming from a female with broad shoulders exclaims while she takes a step closer.

「Attention please, everyone, would you kindly spare me a minute?」

Everyone in the group turns their heads towards the calm, feminine voice. Melan is standing a few meters before them with her arms crossed and an elegant smile on her face.

The group, which consists of one female and two men, glares menacingly at her. They are armored with dirty chest plates, while also having several weapons sheethed all over their bodies. Silver-colored dog tags engraved with the letter B hang on strings around their necks. Their shoes are heavy, boot-like, made out of tough leather covered with small plates. Muddy stains cover most of the boots' surface, with a small clump of grass attached to the female's right boot. Their hair is messy and frizzy, and looks like it hasn't been washed in a while.

They stare at Melan in silence, as if waiting for her to state her business. With all attention on her, Melan averts her eyes and with furrowed brows, she moves her arm gracefully to cover her mouth while slightly pushing her lower lip up with her index finger, as if in deep thought.

The group members all look at each other in confusion.

A few moments pass before her gaze returns to the group, 「My my, would you perhaps know about Mr. Patrak? I may have seen him and his group lying unconscious in that alleyway over there. His shiny daggers were just laying around,」 she says, an elegant smile returning to her face.

「Hey, Patrak? Isn't that the douchebag who keeps flaunting around thinking he's hot shit?!」 asks the tallest of the group, a man appearing to be in his early twenties.

「Dibs on his daggers!」 shouts the other one and immediately starts moving in the direction pointed by Melan.

「You fuck, that's not how it works, hey! HEY! Come back here!」 the female yells, trying to catch up to him.

The group departs, leaving the frail girl behind.

「Oh my, seems like Mr. Patrak wasn't lying when he said he had a reputation, fufufu」, Melan remarks with a giggle.

「Ah, uhmm! Thank you very much, miss!」, the girl bends her body in a respectful bow. Her ears are fluttering, drooping, then springing back up, like those of an excited dog.

「Cute,」 Melan mutters and steps closer to her while holding her hand gracefully in front of her nose, palm pressing against the nostrils in an attempt to block the smell. 「Where are your companions, girl?」

「Ehmm.. ah... I don't have any...」 the girl responds with a helpless smile forming on her face.

「Is that so? What might be your name then?」 Melan's brows raise and a mischievous smile, obscured by her hand, appears on her face.

「Yes, of course, I'm sorry!」 The girl, compelled by the formality exuded by Melan, corrects her posture and raises her modest chest, and then, beaming with pride, she says, 「I am Percibell, a C-rank adventurer. Pleased to meet you, miss!」