B4 - Chapter 8: Black Flames

"Why are you following me?" Seth asked as he stepped out of the forest's shadow.

The young woman didn't answer. Instead, she walked over to the nearest scorched corpse and crouched down beside it. She unhooked the Endless Pouch from the belt of the heavyset fighter who had probably been a Guardian. "You could thank me first," she said at last.

"You didn't have to kill them for me," Seth answered, his posture remaining rigid. "I would've been fine."

"That's not the point." The dark elf tossed the pouch into the air before catching it again. "Those people were nothing but a waste of time for either you or me."

Seth blinked. He couldn't really argue with her logic. It was simply... an odd way of looking at things.

"You took their pouches, though," he pointed out. "Seems like you got something out of it."

The woman let out a dramatic sigh. "As if those bottom-feeders carried anything of actual worth." She suddenly turned her head to one side, almost resting her chin against her shoulder. "No, I'm not being rude," she muttered.

Seth frowned. She wasn't looking at him, nor had those words been to him. It sounded as if she were speaking to someone who wasn't there.

Is she talking to herself?

A second later, quieter this time, she mumbled, "You wouldn't have done any better as a first impression."

Seth's brow knit together even more. Does she realize I can hear her?

His gaze swept over her equipment and lingered on the sapphire amulet hanging around her neck.

A contracted beast?

It was possible. But speaking to it aloud defeated part of the bond's advantage... and made her look unhinged.

Then, as abruptly as an expression could change, the woman's coldness vanished, and genuine disappointment surged across her features. The look made it clear she'd hoped he would have reacted differently or show some gratitude.

Feeling awkward, Seth cleared his throat. "Thank you for dealing with them."

The dark elf snapped her head toward him, and a spark lit her gaze. For a moment, Seth felt like he was standing in front of a different woman.

She sprang to her feet and swept an arm out before dropping into a theatrical bow. "The pleasure is mine."

Seth watched her in silence. Then he turned on his heel. "Well, I'll be going."

"Wait!" The woman's boots thudded behind as she hurried after him.

Seth stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. "What?"

"I'm coming with you."

His eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

The dark elf stopped a few paces away and planted her hands on her hips. "Why not?"

"Because we don't know each other?"

"And?" She tilted her head, meeting his gaze with surprising confidence. "I don't see why that should stop us from traveling together."

"I prefer traveling alone," Seth answered flatly.

"Me too!" she exclaimed, an obvious excitement flashing across her face. "We have so much in common! We should absolutely travel together!" The woman then once again turned her head toward her shoulder, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Stop. I don't sound crazy."

Yes, you do, Seth thought.

'I don't think she means you any harm,' Colossus said through Link.

'Perhaps. But she clearly seems unwell,' Nightmare added. 'And she's way too interested in you.'

Seth suppressed another sigh as he considered the situation. Colossus was right. She hadn't shown any hostility. If anything, she had just protected him by killing the people following him.

Besides, once he entered the Rift, she'd almost certainly leave him alone. Everyone at the Primalist Den had treated the Voiceless Vale like somewhere people go if they wanted to die.

"Fine," Seth said at last. "You can come with me."

The dark elf threw both arms into the air. "Awesome!" A radiant smile spread across her face, then she tilted her head toward her shoulder once more. "Told you."

Seth and the dark elf walked in the forest, where patches of sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead. An awkward silence had settled between them.

For several minutes, the only sounds were the crunch of their boots over fallen leaves and the distant birds hidden among the branches.

Then the woman spoke. "Do you like fruit?" Her tone was oddly stiff, as if she had rehearsed the question a dozen times in her head.

Seth blinked, taken aback by the question. "Eh, sure."

He expected the dark elf to reach into her cloak and offer him an apple or a pear, but she just kept walking, hands swinging at her sides.

"What about the color green?"

Nightmare let out a groan through Link. 'Yep. She's completely insane.'

"I like it about as much as any other color," Seth replied, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Why am I even answering these questions?

He really needed to get better at telling people no. This whole situation would have been preventable.

"You don't have a favorite?"

"Not really."

The weird interrogation continued. Favorite season, favorite weather, favorite animal, favorite kind of bread—the woman asked one pointless question after another.

And they slowly gnawed at Seth's sanity, and it didn't take long for him to seriously consider breaking into a sprint just to escape. Never in his life had he felt so exhausted from walking through a forest.

At last, they broke past the tree line and reached a rocky plain.

"Do you prefer sleeping on your back or on your side?" the dark elf asked as she stepped across several broken stones.

A source check reveals an unapproved copy here; the author's chapter is on NovelPhoenix, where reading supports the writer.

Seth drew another deep breath, ready to finally let out a sigh. Yet before he could, movement caught his attention.

Far across the plain, a woman was sprinting toward them.

Three men chased her, leaving a trail of dust behind. One carried a broadsword, the second a spear, and the third a pair of short swords.

The dark elf fell silent beside Seth, and her violet eyes followed his gaze.

Marcus and Vorath had warned him that even if Asethka was relatively safe, the wilderness around the city was filled with bandits eager to ambush Wielders.

Seth narrowed his eyes.

The fleeing woman was stumbling repeatedly and looked exhausted. Her clothes clung to her frame and had been shredded, while a bit of blood covered some of her skin.

Yet something felt... wrong.

Every single one of her wounds was superficial. It was as if they had been there to convince people she was injured without actually being life-threatening.

"Help!" she screamed, waving her arms as she ran closer. "Please! Help me!"

Instead of dashing forward, Seth cast Intermediate Identify on both the woman and the three men chasing her.

Seth's suspicion deepened right away. All four shared the exact same Rank, and they were each at the first Silver-tier soft cap.

Seth widened his stance. He then began to advance, expecting the woman to attack the moment she came within striking distance.

But before he could take another step, the dark elf beside him slid past.

"Leave this one to me," she mumbled.

Seth frowned. He wasn't sure if she'd been speaking to him.

Then the dark elf's entire demeanor changed.

The awkward, chatty young woman vanished, and the predator Seth had first sensed when walking out of the forest took her place.

An overwhelming bloodlust erupted from her and pressed against the very air as her eyes turned cold.

The fleeing woman, Alora, reached them seconds later and hid behind the dark elf. She dropped to her knees, gasping for breath. "Please!" she cried. "They're trying to kill—"

"Shut it." The dark elf's voice was devoid of any emotion.

Black flames ignited across her gloved hands.

The three pursuers closed the remaining distance without ever slowing. Cruel smiles spread across their faces as behind the dark elf, the wounded woman abruptly moved.

She drew a dagger from beneath her tattered clothes and drove it toward the dark elf's back.

"Watch out!" Seth shouted.

Shadows surged over his forearms and solidified into the twin blades of his Dusk Scythes. He had been expecting it and was ready for it—yet he didn't even have the chance to intervene.

The black flames pooling inside the dark elf's palms erupted and wove together into a mantle that enveloped her body like a living cloak.

The curved dagger struck the defensive spell and rebounded; then, in response, a blast of force hurled Alora backward, sending her tumbling across the rocky plain.

"You—" the woman hissed, scrambling frantically to her feet.

The dark elf didn't even bother looking and simply whipped her hand back.

A lance of ebony flame shot from her fingertips and pierced straight through Alora's chest. The spell was so densely compressed that it skewered her body as easily as a steel spear would and anchored her to the ground before the black flames began consuming her from the inside out.

"Alora!" The leading bandit let out a roar as his earlier grin contorted into pure rage.

The dark elf kept staring at the three attackers, her expression still frigid as ice. A staff of dark wood materialized in her hand.

She spun it once, causing black flames to trail out from its ends.

The three bandits ahead cast their own spells. A vortex of wind spiraled around the first man's broadsword, and aether surged around the body of the spearman beside him. The last attacker raised both his blades as blue lightning erupted around them.

The man with the broadsword was the first to reach the dark elf. He swung his blade in an arc that released a crescent of wind.

The dark elf leaned by an inch, and the spell hissed past her face. Without breaking her stance, she reversed her grip and drove her staff into the man's sternum.

Pitch-black flames exploded from the point of impact, and the spell hurled him into the spearman charging behind.

The twin-sword wielder lunged to launch the counter, lightning crackling his weapons. The dark elf raised her free hand, and a violent flash of light erupted.

Blinded by the spell, the man slashed without any clear aim.

She caught both swords effortlessly with her staff before lunging forth with her palm up. Flames pounced at the man like a living beast and swallowed him whole.

His agonized screams reverberated across the plain as he staggered, ablaze. For a heartbeat, the two remaining bandits stared at him in horror.

Which was a terrible mistake.

Another lance of black flame flashed through the air and punched through the broadsword wielder's neck. He collapsed without a sound.

The lone survivor lunged, thrusting his spear at the dark elf.

The woman pivoted on one heel with a grace that almost made Seth gulp. The spear tore through the air where she had stood half a second earlier and gouged a trench into the plain.

Before the man could follow with another attack, the dark elf swept her staff upward.

The weapon struck his chin from beneath, and the flames trailing around from its end surged forth to wrap his head.

The man screamed and clawed at his burning face. Then barely a few seconds later, he collapsed to his knees and fell onto the ground.

Seth remained where he'd stood through the fight.

The might of the woman's spells was unlike anything he had ever felt.

Each attack had surpassed almost every Iron spell he had witnessed before, aside from his own.

With only a few strikes, she had killed four Rank-70 Silver Wielders.

And her fighting technique had been flawless.

Every movement had been measured. No wasted steps, unnecessary flourishes, or excess aether. Her aura made it clear that she was Iron Tier, and yet she had faced those Silvers as if they were training dummies.

Seth's core stirred within his chest. It urged him to draw his scythes and measure himself against her.

Ahead, the dark elf lowered her staff, and as the black flames consumed the corpses, she let out a sigh. "So annoying." She turned toward Seth. "Anyway, I didn't get the chance to greet you earlier." She gave him a polite nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Seth Elrod."

Seth frowned. They had been walking together for nearly half an hour. Why greet him now? And how did she know his name?

He hadn't felt her casting Identify on him, so out of courtesy he had refrained from using it on her.

"The pleasure is mine..." Seth replied, deliberately letting the sentence trail off.

The dark elf understood the intention. "Sylvaren."

Seth's eyes widened.

His mind flashed back to the leaderboard of Shenlong's Tower. He could still see the name at the top of the Past Year Iron Legacy list, the same one who held the fifth position on the All-Time one.

Once again, the dark elf's demeanor shifted so abruptly that it was unsettling.

The bloodlust vanished, and the lighthearted expression from earlier returned to the woman's face. She clasped her hands behind her back and tilted her head to one side. A carefree smile bloomed on her lips, contrasting in a morbid way with the burning corpses behind her.

"Sylvaren Presynira."