While laughing and kicking one of the dead bandits, the bandit leader suddenly stops and sneers, “What did I pay these losers for? They got beaten by someone in diapers.” He spits on the corpse he just kicked and then turns to L’ark, who lies on the floor, writhing in pain with blood seeping through his clothes. The Dark Elf leaps up and shouts at Daike as she rushes toward her son, “Why the hell are you just sitting there? Go help my son!”

  Sensing her anger, Daike replies, “I thought he could handle it; I didn’t sense that guy either.” He then gets out of his seat, grabs L’ark, and moves him to safety, fully aware that the Dark Elf intends to confront the bandit alone. In that moment, he realizes that the woman he has been traveling with is not just L'ark’s guardian but also the Master and Mother that L'arc mentioned.

  You cut my son… This will not be quick,” the Dark Elf's voice is an icy whisper, her cold stare fixed on the bandit leader. He sizes her up, a sneer curling his lips. “First a boy, now a woman. What will they send next? Their pet dog?”

  Unamused, the Dark Elf scoffs, “Laugh while you can.”

  With a sudden burst of speed, she lunges forward. The bandit barely registers her movement before his weapon is sent hurtling toward a distant tree, embedding itself in the trunk with a resounding thud. His bravado evaporates, replaced by terror as he realizes she is no ordinary woman.

  “P-please,” he stammers, his voice trembling. “I-I can give you all the loot I’ve made. Just spare me!”

  The Dark Elf spits on the ground, her eyes filled with contempt. “Pathetic. I haven’t even cut you yet, and you’re already wetting your pants.”

  She circles him slowly, her presence menacing. Her eyes glint with dangerous anticipation as she examines her prey, savoring his fear. With deliberate, calculated motion, she raises her sword and slashes his chest. Blood spurts from the wound, mirroring the injury he inflicted on L’ark. “That one is for my son,” she hisses. “The next will be for me.”

  The bandit collapses to his knees, his pleas growing more desperate. “Please!” he cries, trying to crawl away on trembling

  limbs.The Dark Elf is relentless. She toys with him, delivering precise strikes that leave him gasping in pain. With a swift cut, she severs his Achilles tendons, rendering him immobile. The bandit claws at the earth in desperation, his screams echoing in the air. “MONSTER!” he yells, his voice cracking with fear.

  She doesn’t relent. The Dark Elf narrows her eyes and plunges her sword into his hands, pinning them to the ground. He thrashes in agony, trapped with no means of escape. Turning onto his back, he looks up at her, tears streaming down his face. “Just kill me!” he pleads.

  Raising her sword high, the Dark Elf pauses to savor the fear in his eyes, letting the seconds stretch into eternity. His final words escape as a choked whisper, “They will hunt you down for this…”

  Unmoved, she brings her sword down with the force of a scorned mother, unleashing her fury in a single, devastating blow. She stands over him, breathing heavily, the weight of her vengeance finally lifting. Silence falls, broken only by the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.

  Wiping the blood from her blade with a piece of cloth, her expression remains unreadable. The Dark Elf takes one last look at the lifeless body before turning away and returning to the carriage.

  With the incident now over, the Dark Elf approaches L’arc to check on him. “How is he?” she asks. Daike responds timidly, “He’s fine; the cut wasn’t as deep as it looked.” He adds, “Tenshu dressed his wounds.” The Dark Elf turns to Tenshu and says, “Thank you for treating him.” Tenshu looks back at her and replies, “It’s no problem, my dear. It’s the least I could do for him; he risked his life for me.”

  Turning to Daike, the Dark Elf remarks, “For your sake, be thankful he’s okay.” Realizing that his desire to witness L’arc’s swordplay had put him in danger, Daike can only apologize. “I’m sorry; I just wanted to see his magnificent swordplay again. I never thought it would come to this.”

  Seeing his sincerity, she acknowledges that the blame does not rest entirely on him. “No, it’s okay. I thought he could handle it too. That man must have had some sort of concealing magic, as even I didn’t sense him.” Using her magic, she heals L’arc’s wound and encourages Tenshu to continue the journey. The Dark Elf and Daike avoid eye contact for the remainder of the trip, while L’arc remains unconscious.

  As they near Fuyu City, L’arc begins to stir. The Dark Elf greets him with a warm smile and asks, “Are you okay?” L’arc shifts to sit up, wincing as he remembers the cut he received and dreading the pain that will come when he fully sits back. Noticing his discomfort, the Dark Elf quickly asks, “Does it still hurt?”L’arc replies, “No, it’s fine. Thank you for healing me.” Feeling a bit disappointed that he needs to express gratitude, she pulls him in for a tight embrace, saying, “You’re my son; you don’t need to thank me for anything.”

  The carriage comes to a stop, and Tenshu excitedly addresses the group, “Thank you all, especially you, boy. I’m sorry you got hurt; if it weren’t for you all, I’d likely be dead.” Daike, who has done little throughout, remains silent. L’arc, however, laughs nervously while scratching his head and says, “Piece of cake.” His mother playfully slaps his head and says, “I suppose you didn’t need my help then?”

  L’arc quickly stops laughing as Tenshu asks, “May I speak to L’arc alone?” The Dark Elf and Daike nod and step aside, waiting nearby. Tenshu pulls L’arc close and says, “I watched you fight. While I appreciate you saving my life, don’t let anger consume you; that path is dangerous. I don’t know what you’ve gone through to harbor such feelings, but trust me, my boy, this is not true strength or power. Thank you again, and if you ever need my assistance, don’t hesitate to seek me out.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  L’arc gestures for the party to return, and they gather around. Tenshu leans in close to whisper to the Dark Elf, “I know what you are. Be careful not to influence the boy too much.” With those final words, Tenshu turns to leave as the party waves him off. The Dark Elf is left to ponder Tenshu’s parting advice.

  They all head to the guild to collect their reward. At this point, the Dark Elf says, “I’d say it was a pleasure working with you, but you almost got my son killed, so it wasn’t really.” Daike realizes she is trying to crack a joke, as she lacks her usual aura of laughter. He quickly throws himself at her feet and kowtows, repeatedly saying, “I’m sorry, Master.” After several repetitions, the Dark Elf kicks him and replies, “Get up, you fool. What do you mean, ‘Master’?”

  Daike, delighted, responds, “I saw you annihilate that bandit. I have no doubt you’re an amazing swordsman. I want you to be my master.” The Dark Elf refuses his request, stating, “The only disciple I have is my son. I don’t need another.” Daike, ever persistent, shifts his attention to L’arc, hoping to persuade him to encourage his mother to take on a new disciple. He throws himself at L’arc’s feet and pleads, “Master L’arc, please forgive me. I only wanted to see your amazing swordplay again; I never meant to put you in danger.”

  Despite his hatred for humans, L’arc sees Daike as almost childlike in his obsession with the sword, which is why he forgives the man. His mother scorns him, saying, “Don’t be so quick to give your forgiveness. Men like him don’t deserve it; they only care about their own selfish desires.”

  The man responds, “While I was being selfish, allI wanted was to see his skills again. I thought he’d be able to handle them. Please forgive me, Master; I would have aided Master L'arc If I’d known.” She replies, “Fine, I’ll forgive you, as you do seem somewhat sincere. However, when did I say you could call me ‘Master’?”

  The party settles in for the night, celebrating L’arc’s first successful mission. As they drink and revel, a waitress approaches. “Hello there! I’m looking for L’arc’s party. Do you know where I can find them?”

  “I’m L’arc,” he replies.

  “Hi, L’arc! I just wanted to let you know that your evening and lodgings have been taken care of. You and your party may eat and drink as much as you like.”

  Upon hearing this, the party's celebrations intensify as the moon rises and the city quietens. Suddenly, L’arc hears a knock at the door. Rubbing his face, he answers it to find Daike standing before him.

  “Ma... Master L’arc, hic, would you do me the honor of a... a duel? I... I can't seem to rest tonight... hic.”

  L’arc replies, “Can you even lift your sword?”

  Daike responds with a flashy display of sword swings. “I think hic you should worry 'bout your own sword, Master L'arc…”

  Exhausted, L’arc agrees to the duel. He grabs his sword, and the two make their way to the courtyard. Daike nods, gesturing to L’arc, then bows dramatically, only to stumble and fall. L’arc laughs, and as he does, Daike rolls forward onto his feet.

  “Did you expect me to say ‘begin’?” Daike asks, pointing his drawn sword at L’arc's neck.

  Now focused, L’arc is taken aback. “That’s not fair!”

  As he protests, Daike clashes swords with him, pushing L’arc back. “Do you think an enemy would wait for you to be ready? I don’t think so.”

  In the struggle, L’arc realizes the disparity in their strength, reminiscent of when he aced his exam. Frustrated, he swings his sword down, but Daike dodges slightly and shoves him with his shoulder.

  “Is that the best you've got? I’m not even trying, boy,” Daike snickers, sheathing his sword and toying with L’arc.

  This makes L’arc acutely aware of their skill difference. He attempts to strike Daike but fails to land a hit. Daike sweeps L’arc’s legs, then grabs his collar just before he hits the ground, dropping him at the last moment.

  “You still have a long road ahead of you and much more work to do, young master,” he says, extending a hand to help L’arc up.

  L’arc scoffs at the offer, refusing to let his pride accept the help. He swats at Daike’s hand and runs off to the inn.

  Daike watches him go, smiling softly. “The kid's got potential. That was a good swing, young master,” he chuckles to himself as he picks up his sword and heads to the inn.

  L’arc rushed up the stairs, still in shock from his humiliating defeat. He dashed past his mother without noticing her, slammed his door, and jumped face-first onto his bed. The dark elf smiled as she watched her son, silently comforting him as he remained oblivious to his surroundings.

  Daike opened the door to the inn and headed to the bar for a drink. The dark elf walked down the stairs and sat beside him. “Kaoru,” she said, looking at him with a slight smile as she brushed a strand of hair from her face. Daike looked up from his glass, intrigued. “Pardon?” he replied quietly, caught off guard by her beauty and surprising femininity. “My name,” she responded. After ordering her drink, they shared a quiet moment together.

  As Daike finished his drink and announced he was going to bed, Kaoru got up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for what you did tonight. He needed that.” Daike smiled softly and walked away.

  Meanwhile, as the party slept for the night, a couple of guards entered the inn and made their way to the bar. The few remaining customers, shaken with fear, quickly left their tables and rushed out. At one table, a big, burly figure shouted, “Hey wench! Four beers for me and my comrades!” He swung his arms in the air, grinning. The barmaid nodded subserviently and rushed to pour the drinks. “Right away, sir,” she said, placing the drinks on the table. “Four coppers.”

  Suddenly, the burly figure stood up and backhanded the barmaid across the face, causing his drink to spill. “Insolent wench! You spilled my beer!” he growled, kicking her in the stomach. She clutched her abdomen as he grabbed her hair, leaning in close. “We protect you, and this is the thanks we get? Lord Jiro will not be pleased.” His companions laughed and snickered, finishing their drinks before departing, leaving the barmaid to cry on the floor.