"What the hell is this… Who are you?" The thought struck Stella in alarm.
The man's grip was extremely strong, enough to make her neck ache under the pressure. The masked figure glanced at her, then spoke in a cold tone near her ear, "Move forward. Now."
As the words fell, the weapon, clearly a large knife, pressed slightly harder against her throat.
Stella moved as told, slow steps forward. Boots dragged deliberately, brushing against small stones to create faint sounds, an attempt to alert Aemilia, or at least leave some trace behind, but the effort did not go unnoticed. A mocking, indifferent voice followed, "Trying to warn that little one? Don't bother. She's probably already in our hands by now."
"So they had been watching all along. Damn it."
Led deeper into the forest, shadows closed in around the narrow path. After some distance, the masked man stopped, seemingly waiting for companions to arrive.
A brief, assessing look followed. "You look decent enough. Hope you'll be useful. Tell me, how old are you?"
"Twenty-seven," Stella replied in a cold tone.
The number was intentional, slightly increased in the hope of interfering with whatever plans involved selling her off. Unpleasant possibilities began forming one after another.
"Damn it… will this end in slavery? Or being sold to a brothel… or something worse? And that girl… where is she? I hope she's unharmed."
Such outcomes were not uncommon, at least from what had been heard since arriving on this continent.
After a while, irritation became visible on the man's face, tension creeping into posture and voice, "Damn them… where are they? Can't they even catch a little girl?"
Stella kept watching closely.
A sudden movement, attention shifted toward her, and the reaction came without warning. A sharp slap landed hard enough to send her to the ground.
"Ouch…" A hand rose to her cheek as her gaze lifted again. The same cold tone followed, "Don't look at me like that again, you worthless thing. Get up."
A rough grip caught her hair, pulling upward.
At that exact moment, a voice came from behind them, calm and indifferent, "Is that any way to treat a lady?"
The voice felt familiar. Unexpectedly so.
The man turned quickly, about to speak, then stopped. Silence fell. Stella, still recovering, noticed the sudden change.
His face had gone pale, expression shifting into something unclear, almost unsettled.
Then Stella turned as well, and understood.
Aemilia stood there, with no fear, no hesitation.
"What… what am I looking at…?" The whisper left Stella's lips, filled with confusion and unease.
Aemilia spoke in the same cold, indifferent tone, expression unchanged, "Looking for them?"
She raised both hands. In each hand...A human head, held by the hair, stained with fresh blood.
After a brief moment, the man finally grasped what had happened. His companions were dead, killed by that girl. The realization settled in all at once, twisting his expression with a mix of disbelief and fear.
"You damned brat… how did you..." The words cut off abruptly.
His weapon was already back in his hand, and without hesitation, he rushed forward, closing the distance in a direct attack.
Aemilia did not step back. With a careless motion, she threw the two heads aside. They traced a brief arc through the air before disappearing into the darkness beyond the trees. Her attention never left the man. As he lunged, her body shifted lightly to the side, avoiding the strike with smooth precision. No wasted movement, no visible effort.
Stella remained where she was, still trying to process the scene unfolding before her. The same man who had struck her down so easily only moments ago now struggled to land even a single hit. His movements grew sharper, faster, more desperate.
" I didn't expect this…"
The same girl who often seemed distracted, almost absent-minded, now stood completely focused. The looseness in her posture disappeared, replaced by a quiet, controlled stillness. Her gaze locked onto him without wavering, sharp and intent in a way that felt wrong for someone her age.
He attacked again, this time with greater control. The earlier panic was forced down, replaced by trained instinct.
Each strike came with intent, aimed cleanly, the angles tighter, the timing better. There was real skill there, experience that showed in the way he adjusted, corrected, pressed forward.
Under different circumstances, he would have been a dangerous opponent. Here, it changed nothing.
Aemilia moved through his attacks as if reading them in advance.
Each swing missed by a narrow margin, each step placed exactly where it needed to be. When openings appeared, she didn't hesitate.
Short, precise strikes landed where they would do the most damage, disrupting his balance, forcing small mistakes.
She was faster, lighter, harder to predict. He was stronger, more experienced.
For a brief moment, it seemed as if those differences balanced each other out. Then the balance broke.
A misstep, small, but enough. Aemilia closed the distance instantly. A quick series of hits followed, clean and controlled.
The man's body faltered, strength giving way all at once. He staggered, then collapsed heavily onto the ground.
Silence followed for a heartbeat.
"Good… time to finish this," without hesitation, Aemilia stepped forward.
"Watch out!" Stella's voice cut sharply through the air.
Aemilia turned back... But it's too late.
The man's hand moved faster than expected. A second weapon flashed into view, drawn from concealment. The distance between them had already been calculated, reduced to leave no room for a clean escape.
"Tch… damn it."
She reacted immediately, shifting her weight to evade, but the angle was wrong, the movement came just a fraction too late.
From where she stood, Stella saw it clearly. There was no doubt left.
The outcome felt inevitable. Her eyes shut tightly, refusing to witness what came next.