anwhile, in the underground society...
Elise’s POV
It had been quite so ti since I last set foot in this place, yet the mont I walked in, it felt oddly unfamiliar. The stench hit harder than before—it was thick, sour, and rotten—clinging to the air like a curse that refused to fade away. It seeped into the walls, into the ground, and into the people themselves. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was exactly what I expected from this pit.
The faces here hadn’t changed much. This place was crawling with the kind of people you’d see in the filthiest, most dangerous neighborhoods. Shifty eyes darting around, hushed conversations in the shadows, bandits leaning lazily against crumbling walls while keeping their hands far too close to their weapons. The whole atmosphere felt like it was constantly on edge, as if the wrong glance could ignite a fight.
The underground society... truly, if there was any place in the world that could rival the demon continent in danger, it was here. The demon continent was known as a land untouchable by humans, a realm of death where survival was a fantasy. But this place—this pit crawling with scum—was different. Humans could walk here, but the danger was no less real. Death lurked in every alley, and the wrong step could end with a knife in your throat.
"There’s a lot of magic knights here nowadays..." I muttered under my breath, my gaze sweeping across the scene.
Dozens of them. n and won dressed in neat, polished uniforms that didn’t belong in a place like this. They stood in groups, watching, talking amongst themselves, their presence cutting through the chaos like clean blades through gri.
What unsettled was that they weren’t here to arrest anyone. Their blades weren’t drawn, nor were they rounding up the thieves and killers that walked openly in the streets. No, they were simply here—stationed, watching, and doing sothing I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Sothing was moving beneath the surface. I could feel it.
Thankfully, they weren’t here to start a war. If the magic knights ever decided to fight the underground society head-on, it would be nothing short of a massacre. Blood would paint these streets, bodies would pile up in corners, and the entire place would burn.
I walked further, weaving past the crowd of criminals and knights until I arrived at the place I was headed.
"Elise? What do you want? The usual?" an old man asked, glancing at while rubbing a mug with a worn rag. His voice was gruff, but familiar.
"Yes," I replied without hesitation.
"Coming right up, then."
He turned and began filling the mug with beer, the faint foam rising and spilling slightly over the rim.
This was the best beer I’d ever had, and I wasn’t exaggerating. I didn’t care how filthy the place was, how rotten the air slled, or how suspicious the company was—this beer was worth it. After everything I’d done today, I deserved this. Cold, sharp, bitter beer sliding down my throat... it was heaven.
But as I took my first sip, I could feel it. Eyes.
I didn’t even need to look up to know where they ca from.
The knights.
They weren’t just watching the crowd. They were watching . Staring. Waiting.
I set the mug down and asked the old man quietly, "How long are all these people supposed to stay here?"
"Well, they said they’re on official business," he said with a shrug. "So I don’t think they’ll be leaving anyti soon."
Official business, huh? What kind of mission would force them to linger in this place for so long?
"Haven’t you tried digging into it?" I asked, my tone sharp.
"Not really, no," he replied honestly. "At first, I did. But they aren’t doing anything shady. And besides, they paid and a couple others a hefty sum to make sure no one complains about their presence. They’re not making trouble, and they’re all staying at that person’s place... so we can’t really do anything about it."
I leaned back, the mug still in my hand. "I see... So that’s why no one’s complaining."
Normally, the underground society wouldn’t tolerate outsiders, especially knights. This place was ruled by cri, not law. But if the de facto mayor of this pit allowed it, then the rest would stay quiet. Money and influence spoke louder than fear.
I continued drinking, but then—
"Elise Eclair?"
The voice ca from behind , firm and cold. At the sa ti, I felt the sharp press of steel against my side. A blade.
I didn’t flinch. I took another sip of beer, swallowed slowly, and set the mug down.
"Yes? What do you want?" I asked casually.
"I want you to co with us. Peacefully," the knight said.
"Peacefully?" I scoffed. "With a sword pressed against my back? That’s what you call peaceful?"
"We’re taking precautions. We’ve heard of your... unsavory tactics. We want to make sure you don’t try anything."
I couldn’t help but smile. That was only natural, wasn’t it? Still, they had it all wrong.
"Ah... but you’re mistaken," I said, smirking. "If you think I can’t do anything just because my back’s turned, then you’re absurdly naïve."
In the next instant, the knight’s hand was gone. Severed cleanly at the wrist.
Blood spurted.
"W-What?! Ahhhhhh! M-My hand! My hand!!!"
The knight dropped to his knees, screaming in agony as he clutched the bloody stump with his remaining hand. His cries echoed through the underground hall, mixing with the whispers and gasps of onlookers.
"I can still kill you without even looking," I said flatly, my voice as cold as the steel they dared to point at .
"Y-You bitch! What have you done?!"
Steel sang as more swords were unsheathed, their edges glinting in the dim light. Knights stepped forward, their blades raised, but I saw it in their eyes—fear.
It wasn’t bravery driving them. It was desperation. They wanted to survive, not win. They had already done their research on . They knew exactly who I was and what I could do. And that knowledge left them terrified.
"You all... don’t fight her," a new voice cut through the tension.
It was feminine, though rough enough that you could mistake it for a man’s at first.
The crowd parted, and she walked forward. A woman with purplish-dark hair that cascaded around her shoulders, her eyes a deep shade of the sa color. Her expression was carved into a permanent scowl, her very presence pushing against the air like a storm.
The aura that radiated from her was imnse. Heavy. Dangerous.
"I’ll handle her myself," she said firmly.
Her hand rose, and with it, a blade materialized.
The sword pulsed with an ominous glow, its aura suffocating.
A cursed sword.
I narrowed my eyes. I was honestly surprised. Very few could even dare to wield such a thing. The drain on mana was catastrophic, the cost so steep it could strip you dry and leave nothing but a husk behind.
But this woman—this stranger—held it effortlessly. No trembling. No strain. She gripped the weapon as if it were made for her, as if it was an extension of her very soul.
I could tell right away. This wasn’t an ordinary human. She was sothing else entirely.
Still... even as the cursed blade humd with power in her hand, I couldn’t believe she’d be able to defeat .
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