Xhaelyn's heart finally steadied, her mind settling on the undeniable truth—she was trapped. There was no way out. She had to fight.
But something didn't add up.
They've already cornered me... so why aren't they attacking all at once?
Then it clicked.
Their abilities clashed at close range. They couldn't unleash their full power without risking friendly fire. That hesitation—however brief—was all she needed.
Xhaelyn took the risk. She launched forward, relying on her senses to catch the faintest flicker of unique energy—the moment an ability was activated. If she could feel it coming, she could dodge.
She moved before hesitation could take hold. Twisting low, she slipped past the nearest mercenary's guard. A gauntleted fist lashed out. Xhaelyn ducked, the strike skimming past her ear.
Another lunged—a blade flashing in the dim light. She barely evaded, instincts flaring. Then—a ripple in the air. Someone was activating their ability.
She threw herself aside. A surge of force cracked the ground where she had just stood.
Too close.
But she was reading them now—their hesitations, their blind spots, their fear of hitting each other.
Xhaelyn exhaled, her stance settling. If they're afraid of harming each other… I'll use it against them.
She moved.
The fight dragged on, her attacks sharp and evasions precise. But then—her rhythm faltered.
Her sense of unique energies wavered.
A foreboding chill crawled up her spine.
Fatigue crept in.
Damn it—this body of mine…
The shift was immediate. The mercenaries sensed her slowing down. Their hesitation disappeared.
One charged. Then another.
She tried to move—too slow. A fist struck her ribs, knocking the air from her lungs. Another blow followed. Pain exploded across her body.
Her vision blurred.
She stumbled.
A final strike slammed into her.
Darkness swallowed her whole.
At the Headquarters of Steelwards, Captain Worz sat behind his desk, the weight of the operation's success hanging in the air. Across from him sat the trafficker, his hands trembling slightly as he clutched a weathered briefcase.
"Captain Worz," the trafficker began, his voice laced with nervousness, "You didn't tell me the girl could fight."
Worz's gaze was cold and calculating.
The trafficker continued, his words hurried. "She's a high-quality product. We can sell her for a huge price, Captain. The buyers will be more than eager. She'll bring in far more than we expected."
Worz remained still, his expression unreadable.
"She was not part of the original plan," the trafficker added, sensing Worz's silence. "But if you allow me, we can auction her off to the highest bidder. She's worth more than we thought—much more."
Worz's lips barely moved as he spoke. "You're not selling her yet. I have other plans for her."
The trafficker faltered, unsure of how to respond. Worz's tone brooked no argument.
"You've done well to capture her. But no one touches her until I say so. Understand?"
The trafficker nodded quickly. "Of course, Captain. Whatever you say."
Worz leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant. "Good. Now, make sure she stays alive. And remember, I don't forget debts." He planned to use her against the Crimsonclaw Mercenaries.
Later that night, a group of merchants, escorted by hired mercenaries, set off. On one of the wagons, the human traffickers dressed among the merchants, their 'product' hidden in plain sight, masked by the mundane facade of the caravan. The abducted children were tucked away, their fate uncertain.
At the Crimsonclaw headquarters, the founding members were gathered in the hall, their usually composed faces now painted with worry and concern. The weight of the situation bore heavily on them, the tension palpable in the air. Grim expressions replaced their usual confident demeanor.
Xhaelyn had not yet returned.
Carlo, his face creased with concern, was the first to break the silence. His voice, laced with an unmistakable hint of anxiety, echoed through the room. "She's been gone too long. She hasn't returned yet, and if Worz has anything to do with this..." His words hung in the air, the implication left unspoken but clear.
The silence deepened, and the uneasy weight of his words spread to the others.
Owen, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow, his voice casual but edged with concern. "How can you be sure that Worz has something to do with Little Xhae's disappearance? Maybe she changed her mind and left."
Alex shook his head, his tone firm and serious. "I don't think so. She didn't strike me as someone who would just vanish without letting us know. She's more dependable than that."
Edgar, leaning casually against the wall, spoke up, his voice tinged with apprehension. "I heard something while we were on our mission. Human traffickers have been active in the city recently."
Owen let out a disbelieving laugh, though it sounded forced. "You're implying that Little Xhae somehow got caught by human traffickers? I highly doubt that girl could be captured so easily."
Samuel, his face darkening, glanced at the others, his voice quieter now. "I overheard something else. A group of mercenaries ambushed someone recently. I'm starting to lean toward Carlo's assumption."
Paulo, as blunt as ever, spoke without hesitation. "Why would Steelwards target a kid like Little Xhae? We need to go to their headquarters."
Jacob, their captain, had remained quiet until now. The others knew that when he spoke, his words would carry the weight of authority. He sat back, his brow furrowed in thought, and when he finally spoke, his voice was steady but edged with a quiet resolve. "I believe Worz is behind this. This is his way of retaliating after the humiliation he suffered in the guild this morning. He won't let that slide."
The room fell silent again, the truth of Jacob's words settling over them like a heavy blanket. Worz was a man who harbored grudges, and they all knew that his next move would be ruthless. The tension in the air was thick, and each of them understood the gravity of the situation. They feared the worst for Xhaelyn, and the thought of her falling into Worz's hands was more than they could bear. Crimsonclaw had grown attached to the little girl they had only just met, treating her as one of their own.
The merchants, unaware of the storm brewing in the shadows, traveled steadily toward their destination—the capital of the Duskar Dominion. The largest city in the region, City A, was under the control of Ironclad Fang, a mercenary group renowned for their ruthless authority. The caravan's path wound through the rugged terrain, carrying a mix of trade goods and innocent faces, hidden among the wagons. Beneath the surface, however, darker purposes lay in wait.
Xhaelyn lay motionless in one of the wagons, her body utterly drained. The toll of the past few days had been heavy—physically and mentally. Weak from the strange ordeal of her transmigration and unable to fully adapt to this new world, her body fought to rest and recover, its energy completely spent.
Inside the dim confines of the wagon, her senses remained clouded by fatigue. The murmur of voices from outside mingled with the rhythmic rattle of wheels against stone and earth, but none of it reached her fully. Only fragments of sound broke through the fog of exhaustion clouding her mind. The weight of her circumstances, the uncertainty of the future, felt distant—her will slipping further into unconsciousness.
As her consciousness hovered on the edge between sleep and wakefulness, a conversation from outside the wagon managed to breach the haze.
"Heh, Captain Worz isn't selling her yet," the leader of the human traffickers, disguised among the merchants, muttered, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "She's a high-quality product, sure, but he wants to keep her for himself. Can't say I get it."
The words broke through to Xhaelyn's foggy mind, just enough to form a connection. Worz...
The trafficker's voice grew louder, more assertive. "We could've made a fortune off her, though. The buyers are lining up, ready to pay top coin. But no, Worz won't hear of it. He said he has another plan for her. The products we captured in City K are enough. I'm not so sure."
Xhaelyn's thoughts scattered, trying to make sense of the fragments. Worz... What other plan is he weaving? She couldn't fully process it, but there was one thing she knew for certain. Captain Worz, you and your Steelwards owe me. I'll be back. So get ready.
Worz remained unaware that the traffickers had defied his orders. Driven by greed, they smuggled Xhaelyn among their products, hoping to profit from her before he could act on his own plans.
Her awareness faded again, her body sinking deeper into unconsciousness, unaware of the turmoil her disappearance was causing in Crimsonclaw.