The bandit emerged from the tent, gripping a silver-haired girl tightly as a human shield. A sharp knife pressed against her pale neck.
"Stop right there! Move even an inch, and the girl dies!"
"Ilya!" Mary cried out, her voice filled with anguish.
The young girl, barely a teenager, was unharmed but visibly terrified. Her dress was intact, though stained with dirt. Clearly, she had been kept in relatively good condition—likely as leverage for a ransom.
"She's safe... for now," Uta muttered, observing the scene.
"Drop your weapons! Now!" the bandit barked, his knife glinting in the dim light as he pressed it harder against Ilya's neck. A trickle of blood stained her dress, and her pale face contorted in pain.
Mary tensed, her hand gripping her sword tightly.
"You," the bandit spat, glaring at her. "Kill that guy, or the girl dies. Now!"
"Kill... him?" Mary hesitated, her knuckles whitening as her grip tightened further.
Uta raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanging. "Well, that's new."
"Do it!" the bandit shouted, the blade biting deeper into Ilya's neck. "Or do you want her death on your conscience?"
"Damn it..." Mary gritted her teeth, her gaze darting between Uta and the bandit.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice heavy with remorse.
With a sudden motion, she swung her sword toward Uta.
Blood sprayed across the ground as the blade cut deep into Uta's chest. He staggered backward, crimson staining his clothes.
Uta collapsed to the ground, lying still, his body unmoving.
"Did it... work?" Mary muttered, trembling as she stared at Uta's fallen form.
The bandit sneered. "Good job. But I never said I'd let the girl go, did I?"
"You bastard!"
"Drop your weapon next," the bandit ordered, his grin widening. "And strip. Let's make sure you're not hiding anything."
Mary's jaw clenched, but she complied, casting her weapon aside and beginning to remove her armor.
Piece by piece, she stripped down to her undergarments, her lithe frame trembling in the cold air.
"Good. Now, kneel."
Mary hesitated, her face burning with shame, but she obeyed, lowering herself to the dirt.
"Perfect."
The bandit released Ilya, shoving her roughly to the side as he turned his attention to Mary. He licked his lips, his hand reaching toward her trembling body.
"Please... just kill me," Mary muttered, tears streaking her face as she closed her eyes.
"Oh, the classic line from a knight," came a voice from behind the bandit.
"What—?!"
The bandit spun around, only to find Uta standing there, completely unharmed.
"You're alive?! How?!"
"Surprise!" Uta said cheerfully. Before the bandit could react, Uta reached out and tapped his shoulder.
With a sickening crackle, the bandit's body crumbled into ash, scattering in the wind.
"You're... unhurt?" Mary stammered, staring at Uta in disbelief.
"Of course. You didn't really mean to kill me, did you?" Uta replied, brushing nonexistent dust off his sleeves.
Mary remained silent, her hands trembling as she retrieved her discarded sword.
"I betrayed you," she said, her voice hollow. "I struck you down. For that, I owe you my life. Take it."
She handed the sword to Uta and spread her arms wide, her chest rising and falling with each unsteady breath.
"Kill me. It's only fair."
Uta tilted his head, considering her for a moment.
"Sure," he said, taking the sword.
"Wait!"
A small figure darted between them, blocking Uta's path.
"Stop it!" Ilya cried, her arms outstretched as she shielded Mary with her body.
"Ilya!" Mary gasped, her voice breaking.
"I'm the one to blame," Ilya said, tears streaming down her face. "Mary only did what she did because of me. If anyone deserves punishment, it's me. Please, spare her!"
Uta's expression softened into one of amusement.
"Wow, talk about loyalty," he said. "You don't see that every day."
Then, without warning, he plunged the sword into Ilya's chest.
"Ilya!" Mary screamed as the girl crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around her frail body.
"You... you monster!"
Mary lunged forward, only for Uta to turn the blade on her, thrusting it into her abdomen.
"Let's call it even," Uta said with a smile as Mary collapsed beside Ilya, her blood mingling with the young girl's.
As the light faded from Mary's eyes, a single thought lingered in her mind.
She had chosen the wrong person to trust.
In her final moments, she understood all too late that Uta was not a savior, but something far more sinister.