The woman, still trembling, stepped back, her dagger quivering in her grip. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one loud in her ears as her heartbeat thundered. Her gaze darted between Nyx and the other figures behind him, her confusion etched plainly on her face.
"Who… who are you?" she stammered, clutching the dagger tightly as if it was her last line of defense.
Nyx tilted his head slightly, his expression unchanging as he released the blade from his fingers, allowing her to pull it back. His calm demeanor contrasted starkly with her panic.
"We are here to help," Nyx replied, his tone steady, almost soothing.
The woman froze. The words sounded foreign to her, yet they carried a weight that she could not ignore. For a brief moment, it was as if a light pierced the darkness surrounding Nyx, his calm presence seeming almost righteous.
"T-Thank you…" she murmured, her voice cracking as tears welled up in her eyes. Her hand shook as she struggled to wipe them away, the overwhelming relief breaking through her fear.
___________________________________
"My name is Flora Sel Alasia," she had once said, her voice carrying the dignity of her royal lineage. "The first and only daughter of the fifth king of Alasia, Eric Sel Alasia."
Flora had recounted her tale with a trembling voice, her memories a bitter blend of fear and resolve.
"I was strolling through the royal gardens, admiring the flowers my late mother had nurtured. She had such a way with them, even as a commoner before marrying into royalty." A faint smile graced her lips at the memory, only to vanish as she continued.
"My mother… she was kind to everyone, even the common folk. I suppose that's why Father always spoiled me—it was his way of compensating for her absence after she passed when I was nine."
Her voice hardened, her hands curling into fists as she spoke of the day her life changed. "I was taken by masked intruders while walking in the gardens. Kidnapped. They dragged me out of the capital in a carriage, and I only managed to grab a dagger when they were distracted fighting armed kobolds."
She paused, her expression darkening. "I thought I had a chance to escape, but there were too many of them. Even if I ran, where would I go? They looked at me with eyes full of lustful intent. The only thing that kept them at bay was the dagger that I had that Threatened that I would kill myself."
Her voice wavered as she recalled her mother's warm smile. "In those moments, I remembered her. She used to say that everything would be alright, that I just needed to believe. I held on to that belief, that Father would send soldiers to rescue me. But I couldn't rely on him alone. I had to act."
Flora described how she had used a blanket to fashion a makeshift rope, intending to escape through the second-floor window of the tower. "I was ready to make my move when the door creaked open. I thought it was one of my captors, so I prepared to fight… or at least take one of them down with me."
Her voice softened as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "But then, instead of despair, hope walked through that door. Mother was right—everything would be alright."
Flora wiped her face, her trembling subsiding as the tension began to ease.
"Well," Viscount Wellian interjected, breaking the silence. "Where are the hired thugs who brought you here?"
The knights turned toward the Viscount, exchanging glances.
"They usually go out hunting at this hour," Flora explained, her voice still shaky. "They should be back any moment now."
A bloodcurdling scream suddenly pierced the air, the sound echoing outside the tower.
Nyx's eyes narrowed as he turned sharply toward the sound. He, Flora, and the others rushed outside, descending to the base of the tower.
From the edge of the nearby forest, a man staggered out, his face contorted in terror as he ran toward the tower. Before he could reach them, a bolt of lightning streaked through the sky, striking him down. His body collapsed to the ground, charred and lifeless, smoke curling upward from the blackened remains.
"That's one of the men who captured me!" Flora exclaimed, clutching Nyx's arm for support.
Grall crouched beside the corpse, examining it closely. "But who could've done this?"
"Look closer," Nyx said, his voice calm but commanding.
All eyes turned toward the forest, where the shadows stirred ominously. From the gloom, a gnarled staff emerged, its tip still crackling faintly with residual energy. Slowly, the figure wielding it stepped into view.
An orc, frail and hunched, its tusks chipped and battered, emerged from the shadows. The creature's gaunt frame spoke of age and wear, but its piercing eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence. Behind it, more orcs began to appear, their larger forms looming as they stepped forward, each carrying crude weapons.
Unlike the frail elder, these orcs radiated strength and menace, their gazes fixed on the tower with predatory intent.