"Splash!"
In the next moment,
accompanied by the cool night breeze, a soft figure had already leapt into Ethan Drake's arms.
"Hmm?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow, catching the person.
Before he could say anything,
a plump man in a chef's outfit appeared from the front.
Holding a cleaver, he glared menacingly at the person in Ethan's arms and growled, "You despicable Dark Elf thief, I finally caught you! This time, I'm definitely going to sell you off!"
Under the glow of magical lights, the person in Ethan's arms was revealed.
It was a girl with bronze skin, long pointed ears that twitched slightly, dressed in ragged clothes that spoke of a harsh life. Her beautiful white hair was somewhat withered and disheveled, her body was dirty, and she was barefoot. Her delicate face was smudged with coal dust.
A Dark Elf!
Born from the corrupted Elven Tree, a race that embraces darkness and moonlight, lacking the Elves' natural affinity, instead honing agility and affinity for curses and dark magic under harsh conditions. Abandoned by the Elven Kingdom, they are in a pitiful state on the continent, without a homeland or protection. Their exotic appearance often makes them desirable to high-ranking individuals, and they are quite popular in the underground slave markets.
...
So warm...
Why is this person's embrace so warm?
Like a hearth.
Living in the dust, struggling for survival,
Kreya hasn't felt such warmth in a long time...
If it were before, she would have savored this warmth and slept soundly!
But, unfortunately,
everything in this situation told her,
the worst possible outcome had occurred!
She had been caught!
A Dark Elf should never be caught!
"Let go of me~"
She shook her body and kicked her small feet, trying to escape,
but lacked the strength to leave this comforting embrace.
At the same time, the bad man's insults reached her ears.
Huddled in Ethan's arms, Kreya, with her ruby-like eyes, defiantly looked up at the bad man and said, "It's not me! I didn't! I didn't steal your stuff! I only looked at your pastries! It was your cat that ate them! You clearly want to sell me to the slavers!"
The fat man paused, then his face turned red with rage as he shouted, "You! You liar! Cunning Dark Elf thief, aren't all of you dark scum thieves?"
Turning to Ethan, he said, "Sir, thank you! Please hand this vile Dark Elf over to me!"
"No... please don't! Don't give me to him! Brother! I really didn't steal his things!"
Kreya trembled at his words, instinctively clutching the man's robes.
It must be very precious fabric, as soft as silk, contrasting sharply with her ragged clothes.
She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears, pleading with Ethan.
Ethan, who was unwittingly involved in this farce, stood still without moving.
He did not hand over the girl in his arms to the man, but neither did he release the dirty girl.
He simply looked calmly at the angry, fat man.
His dark eyes seemed to possess a different kind of magic,
deep, ancient, as if they spanned countless ages, holding the vastness of the stars.
Somehow, being stared at by these eyes felt like having one's soul exposed,
an unending pressure weighing down, as if bearing a huge boulder.
The fierce man felt a pang of fear in his heart.
Gradually losing confidence, his previous aggressive stance weakened.
"Chef, when the hands that stir the pot are tainted with foulness, the food cooked will no longer be delicious!"
"Do you understand?"
Ethan looked into his eyes, speaking softly.
His voice was smooth and calm,
but to the fat man with the cleaver, it was like a thunderbolt, a heavy hammer striking his chest.
Breath stopped for a moment.
He froze, his face turning ashen.
What... is this?
At that moment, everything around seemed unchanged, and the strange young man in front of him remained the same.
But time seemed to stop, and space seemed to freeze. The fat man felt the entire world had shifted!
What did he see?
He didn't know!
It was an indescribable terror!
The deepest despair!
It felt as though his soul was being torn apart by the gaze.
He was scared, terrified, desperate!
He had never felt such a clear sense of death in his life.
"Clang!"
The cleaver slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with a crisp sound.
"I... I'm... I'm sorry, sir... I may have misunderstood! I... I'll leave now!"
The man, panicked, nodded hastily at Ethan, ignoring the cleaver on the ground, and, as if facing a flood, he fled in a hurry without waiting for Ethan's response.
"Brother... do you believe me?"
She... was saved?
Kreya thought she was doomed!
If she had been handed over to that vicious chef, she didn't know what would happen next.
Yet, unexpectedly, things took a turn.
This stranger who showed her warmth chose to believe in her over the nasty chef!
And even chased him away!
Her emotions were a mix of deep sorrow and joy, making her feel overwhelmed,
as warmth flowed from her heart to her eyes.
Her originally red eyes now glowed even redder.
Born into the cursed race of Dark Elves, with her mother being a Dark Elf and her human father dead long ago,
she was left uncared for, trapped in this bustling city, surviving on the streets and competing with stray dogs for scraps.
What she received was mostly disdainful looks.
And this was the first time she felt trust and warmth from someone.
Thinking of this, she tightened her grip on Ethan's arm.
She didn't know what the future held,
but tonight,
she might never forget.