Once fully freed, Maggie handed a shirt and a pair of briefs to the woman. The latter didn't hesitate—she slipped them on without a hint of shame, right there in front of Dylan, as if modesty had died along with the pain.
Maggie herself was down to a stretch olive-green top, clearly made for mobility rather than fashion. Her arms were bare, the fabric hugging her solid shoulders. The cargo pants fit snugly around her hips, showing off her navel and the sharp lines of her abs. She wore it all like armor, not a runway outfit.
And Dylan? He didn't flinch.
Not the time to ogle. Not the place either.
Not that she wasn't attractive—far from it. But this was a demon-infested forest, with a spike-beast faster than its shadow, and a woman fresh off a sacrificial altar.
Definitely not the setting for a boner.
---
Dylan kept scanning the area. No sound, except for the soft rustling of Maggie's bag as she dug around for spare clothes. The moment was calm. Too calm. Then, something caught his eye.
Her ears.
Way too long to be normal.
"Miss… are you human?" he asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.
The woman raised an eyebrow as she pulled the pants up, a faint smirk on her lips. Maggie paused briefly, surprised Dylan would ask that so bluntly.
Feeling like a trash bag at a gala dinner, Dylan scrambled to explain.
"Well… you see, we're not from around here. We don't get how things work in this world. So… I noticed your ears were longer than ours, and I figured… you know."
The woman chuckled softly.
"If that's your question, I'm an elf. But yes, I'm still human. When you first said you were from another world, I had my doubts… but after that blunder, I'm starting to believe you."
She tugged at the waistband to adjust the fit.
"There are lots of races on this continent—elves, beastkin, half-demons, homosapiens… But we all fall under the same species. So if you throw around questions like that without thinking, some folks might not take it well."
There were only two pairs of boots. So the woman stayed barefoot—not that it seemed to bother her. From the way she moved, it was clearly nothing new.
She glanced at her new military getup, then turned to the two soldiers and said:
"Thank you."
Maggie wasn't in the mood for softness.
"Just guide us. Try to screw us over, and my bullets will make you wish you'd died back there."
The woman nodded without flinching, taking the threat as if it were routine. Then she looked at Dylan, who asked:
"And your name?"
"Oh god, we're being formal now? You weren't nearly that uptight earlier when you were checking out my bare ass," she teased with a mocking laugh.
"But—!" Dylan stammered, already blushing, but she raised a hand to stop him.
"Relax. I'm messing with you. Name's Élisa. You can call me Lise, if you want."
"I'm Dylan. And that's my commander, Maggie," he replied, nodding toward the woman, still standing tall, her gaze sharp as a freshly honed blade.
Maggie didn't react.
Professional to the bone.
Or maybe just too done with the situation to play along.
The forest's mood was too quiet. Stifling. Even their whispers felt swallowed by the thick foliage, smothered like they were never spoken.
Dylan got why Maggie was so on edge. She'd always been like that. A bit paranoid—rarely wrong.
He simply followed Élisa, with Maggie watching their six, gun always ready. Each of them covering the others, without a word. They moved like their lives depended on it.
Because they did.
"Not to kill the mood," Élisa murmured, without turning, "but it'll take at least two weeks to get out of this forest. Maybe more. Depends on what we run into."
She glanced at Maggie, then pointed toward a path straight ahead.
"Up there's a hobgoblin village. The green bastards you ran into earlier. Not very bright, but in a pack? Brutal."
She veered left confidently, like she knew every step of this hell.
"Left? Killer bees. Palm-sized. Build their nests with the corpses of giant beasts. Yeah, you heard me. Definitely not recommended."
She stopped, just for a moment. Her face changed—expression blank, almost cold. But her voice gave it away. A tremble, a tightness.
"And to the right… that's my old village. I really, really don't suggest going there. People there… they've lost it."
Silence fell again, thick as fog.
Dylan exchanged a glance with Maggie. Just from Élisa's tone, he knew this wasn't metaphorical.
"Lost it how?" he asked carefully.
Élisa didn't answer right away.
Not because she didn't want to.
Because she was trying not to fall apart.
She swallowed hard, shoulders relaxing just slightly. When she spoke again, her voice was deeper, tense.
"There's no better word for them… They're insane."
Her teeth clenched, almost involuntarily.
"It started months ago, when the Hystrix claimed the forest as its domain. A monstrosity. An entity. We tried to fight. Really. But our warriors—most of them died. Five were left. Five scumbags."
She took a deep breath, fists tightening.
"Instead of defending the rest, protecting the survivors… they chose to feed it. Literally. Once a month, they offer a dozen young elves. Girls, boys… no one's spared."
Her voice cracked. She started walking again, slower now, eyes distant.
"The Hystrix starts by devouring the organs. Then it lets the bodies dry. Comes back later to gnaw on the bones. It's slow. Methodical. But it keeps him busy. And away from the village."
Another heavy silence.
Dylan felt a chill crawl down his spine. A vivid image formed in his head—raw, violent, impossible to erase.
"Nobody protested?" he asked, voice hoarse. "I mean… you grew up with them, right? They saw you grow up…"
Élisa let out a bitter laugh. Sharp. Cold.
"Crazy, I told you. My mother… she was the village chief. A warrior. She died on the front lines when the Hystrix came. After that, those five took over. Now they rule like tyrants."
She stopped, turned her head toward Dylan, eyes hard.
"No one said a word. Out of fear. Cowardice. Maybe habit. I tried to run. Swore I'd never go back."
"I guess they caught you," Dylan muttered, glancing at his commander.
Maggie said nothing. But her stare ahead spoke volumes. She was already calculating. As always.
"I was betrayed," Élisa said, voice flat.
"By the very people from the village. They caught me. Delivered me to those bastards… And guess what?"
She paused, voice turning gravelly.
"Eleven were chosen. I was tied up nearby. I had to watch. Listen to them scream, beg for death while they were eaten alive."
Her gaze darkened, carved by a pain she still refused to show fully.
"I didn't feel much for their deaths… But what broke me was their eyes. That look when they realized I was right. The regret."
She clenched her jaw.
"I could've laughed… if I hadn't been tied up just a few feet away."