Her eyes widened in horror. She was a royal elf princess—she knew exactly what would happen to her if she fell into the hands of bandits out here in the void, where no laws applied and no one would ever find the body.
But before the panic could fully take hold, her eyes widened again—this time in shock—as every single one of the bandits suddenly exploded into a fine red mist, their bodies popping like overripe fruit without so much as a scream.
Her gaze shifted to the strange spaceship that had appeared out of nowhere, hovering in the void as if it had been there the entire time. It wasn't like any vessel she had ever seen. Normally, ships resembled the same wooden vessels that pirates once used to sail the seas—hull, mast, sails, and all—just enhanced with formations.
But this one was completely different. It had wings, was built entirely out of polished metal, and shot concentrated energy from its rear to propel itself forward. There were no sails, no mast, no formation arrays visible on the hull. She had never seen anything like it before.
She looked back toward where the bandits had been—nothing but drifting red particles and scraps of armor—and saw a handsome young man walking through the void of outer space as casually as someone strolling down a sidewalk.
He moved toward her with a light smile on his face, completely unbothered by the carnage floating around him. The blood from the bandits didn't touch him; a barrier surrounded his body, shimmering faintly as it shielded him from both the vacuum of space and the harmful cosmic energy that would have torn a normal human apart in seconds.
"Who are you?" She asked with unease, her eyes darting between Ethan and the strange ship behind him.
"I'm Ethan, and today I'm a bandit hunter… and it seems like I'm playing hero," Ethan said with a laugh, relaxed and easy, as if this was all just a fun detour in his day. The princess's face darkened immediately.
"You think I need saving? Do I look like I need help from a lesser lifeform like a human?" She said angrily, her pride flaring up hotter than the wound in her stomach. She was a royal elf—the very idea that a human believed he had rescued her was an insult she couldn't swallow.
"Haha, you're right. I am a cripple. You're a beautiful star, shining brighter than galaxies… even while badly injured, your beauty isn't remotely diminished." Ethan said softly, and she paused mid-breath, caught completely off guard. She hadn't been expecting words like that to come out of his mouth—not from a human, and certainly not from one who had just called himself a cripple. She opened her mouth to fire back, but nothing came out. After a moment, she settled for a snort.
"At least you have eyes for a piece of trash." She snorted dismissively, but then froze when she replayed his words in her head. He had called himself a cripple.
She looked at him again, more carefully this time, and was stunned to realize that Ethan was indeed a normal human. The barrier around him wasn't his own; it was coming from an external source. He was, in every sense of the word, completely ordinary.
"I wish I had better eyes… It's a shame these eyes of mine can't fully take in your beauty. They say the sun is to be admired from afar, yet here I am, wanting to get burned." Ethan said with a sigh that sounded genuinely regretful.
The princess, who had heard all manner of flattery and praise throughout her life from suitors, nobles, and politicians alike, was left speechless. She had never heard anything quite like this—so blunt, so unpolished, and yet so clearly sincere that it left her embarrassed in a way she hadn't been prepared for.
"Shut your mouth, you cripple. Keep talking, and I will have your tongue." She snapped, and Ethan's entire face flushed red at those words. His hands flew up to the sides of his face in exaggerated shock.
"Y-you… that's a bit lewd," Ethan said, his expression one of pure scandalized disbelief.
"N-no, I didn't mean it like that!" She screamed, her own face turning bright red as she realized how that had sounded. She pointed a finger at Ethan, furious but completely without words to defend herself.
"Sure, I believe you." Ethan nodded with the most unconvincing sincerity she had ever seen. And she was a cultivator—she could sense that he was lying through his teeth. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red, this time from pure rage.
She even caught how he was looking at her now, his eyes wide with a kind of delighted amazement, as if he had just discovered an entirely new side of her that he found fascinating.
"You dare? I would grind your bones to sweeten my tea!" She yelled, too enraged to think straight or act rationally. When was the last time anyone had dared to treat her like this? She couldn't even remember.
"Y-you're calling me sweet?" Ethan's eyes widened even further, and her face twisted, caught somewhere between fury and utter confusion at how he kept turning her own words against her.
"Who's calling you sweet?!" She screamed in rage.
"You said my bones can be used to sweeten your tea…" Ethan said with innocent eyes that didn't fool her for a second, and she screamed into the void of outer space—a raw, frustrated sound that echoed off of nothing and disappeared into the endless dark.
"Wow, even while angry, you're so beautiful. I wish I knew exactly what I did to make you this upset, so I could see this side of you more often." Ethan said under his breath, watching her with open admiration as she trembled with rage. That was the last straw. She flashed forward in an instant, appearing directly in front of him and grabbing the front of his shirt with a grip that could have crumpled steel.
"Keep talking. I dare you." She said with bloodshot eyes, her face inches from his. But she froze when Ethan didn't flinch. He just looked at her with a slightly cold expression—not afraid, not amused, just firm.
"I don't care what you think… I will speak the truth. You're beautiful, and that's a cold, hard fact you will never stop me from saying." Ethan said sharply, and the words hit her like a physical blow. Her grip on his shirt loosened without her realizing it, and her body began shaking—not from anger, but from something she couldn't identify. She didn't know what she was feeling right now… but it was a rage greater than rage, wrath greater than wrath.
"Do you believe I will not kill you right now?" She asked coldly, her voice dropping to something low and dangerous.
"Then go ahead. I might be a cripple, but I do not fear dying for something I believe in," Ethan said without hesitation, his jaw set, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I'm not talking about my looks!" She cried out, but the words barely left her mouth before she doubled over, coughing up a mouthful of blood that floated away from her lips in dark, weightless spheres.
She had completely forgotten about the sword still lodged in her stomach. But how was she supposed to remember something like that when this infuriating human kept pushing every button she had?
Her face went pale as a second wave of pain hit her, sharper than the first. The wound wasn't just deep—the blade had been coated in poison, and she could feel it spreading through her veins now, cold and numbing.
Ethan moved without thinking. He closed the distance between them in a single step and scooped her up into a princess carry, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back.
"L-let me go, you filthy human! How dare you touch me with your dirty hands. I will have your head for this!" She said, thrashing weakly in his arms, enraged at the sheer audacity of a human putting his hands on her without permission.
"You can kill me after I get you in a stable condition," Ethan said seriously, his tone leaving no room for argument as he looked straight into her eyes while flying back toward the ship.
"I would rather die." She said through gritted teeth, unwilling to accept being saved by a human of all things.
"I don't care what you would rather do… you're in my care right now, and not even death can take you from me," Ethan said, his voice hard and final, and she was left seething in silence.
How dare this trashy, worthless human heal her against her will? The nerve. The absolute, unforgivable nerve. But… she would allow it. For now. And then she would see to his punishment personally afterward.
As they entered the ship, her eyes shifted to take in the interior, and what she saw made her blood run cold. There were people everywhere—beings hiding in the shadows along the walls and ceiling, watching her with sharp, unblinking eyes.
Some wore ninja-style outfits, dark and form-fitting, and they had deliberately revealed themselves as she was carried inside, making their presence known as a clear warning. They were letting her see them. Letting her understand that they had been watching her the entire time she had been holding their master by the shirt.
She felt a chill crawl down her spine as she sensed their cultivation levels. Every single one of them was at the Martial Lord stage at minimum, and some radiated the pressure of half-step Martial Kings. She was just a half-step Martial Lord herself—far from strong enough to face even one of them in her current state, let alone all of them at once.
What followed was something she had never experienced in her entire life. She was healed—not just by pills shoved down her throat the way cultivators normally handled injuries, but by actual doctors who went to work on her with a level of precision and care she didn't know existed.
They sealed her injuries using what appeared to be sewing needles, stitching torn flesh and muscle back together with steady hands while formations hummed around her to manage the pain. It didn't stop there. The poison that had been spreading through her body—a toxin potent enough to kill a Martial Lord if left unchecked—was identified, isolated, and cured within hours.