Elara focused on pacing herself as they journeyed onward, determined to keep up with the group. Her endurance growing with each passing day. The system notifications confirmed her progress, showing that her vitality had increased yet again.

  Despite the physical demands of their travel, she couldn't help but notice Velma's withdrawn demeanor. The warrior remained quiet, her gaze distant and her words sparse. Elara's heart ached for her companion, knowing the weight of uncertainty that hung over her.

  As the sun dipped below the horizon, Esme called for the group to make camp. They found a suitable spot nestled among the trees, close to the Fox Leap Crossing. Elara helped set up their makeshift camp, gathering firewood and helping Krill prepare a simple meal.

  Slynn, ever the entertainer, took it upon himself to lift their spirits. He settled down beside Velma, his lute in hand, and strummed a cheerful tune. Elara watched from across the fire as Slynn's voice filled the air, weaving tales of taverns and mead.

  After the song, he strummed a few light chords on his lute, trying to fill the silence with something pleasant. His voice broke through the quiet, playful and soothing, “You know, if you cracked a smile once in a while, the night might feel a little less like a funeral.”

  Velmas gaze shifted toward him, her eyes hard and unamused. Slynn, oblivious to the shifting mood, continued, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’ve got that ‘tough-as-nails’ thing going for you, but maybe a little less of the ‘stone-faced warrior’ routine? We’re all friends here, right?”

  A brief, tense silence followed. Slynn chuckled, clearly thinking he’d lightened the mood.

  Velma stood abruptly, her movements sharp and controlled. She didn’t look at him; she didn’t need to. Her voice was icy, biting. “Is that what you think? That I’m a ‘stone-faced warrior’?”

  Slynn blinked, his smile faltering. “I—well, no, I just meant—”

  “You think it’s funny?” Velma's voice rose, cutting him off. Her hands clenched into fists, and she took a step closer to him, the firelight reflecting in her eyes like an inferno about to erupt. “What do you know about me?” she spat, her tone sharp, angry.

  Slynn scrambled to recover, his earlier bravado crumbling. “It’s not what I meant, Velma. I’m just trying to get you to relax. We’re all on edge—”

  But the damage was done. Velma’s jaw tightened, her body rigid with anger. “If you’re so damn eager to make jokes about me, maybe you should learn when to shut your mouth.” Her words came out cold, biting.

  Before he could finish, a blur of motion interrupted him. Velma's face, twisted with rage, lunged at Slynn. The sound of her fist connecting with his face was a sickening crunch that echoed through the night, causing the rest of the group to recoil in unison.

  Slynn staggered back, his eyes wide with disbelief and pain, but Velma didn’t give him a chance to recover. She followed him down with lightning speed, straddling his waist and delivering blow after blow, her fury unchecked as the night air seemed to thicken with tension.

  For the first punch, the group stood frozen, stunned by the sudden violence. It was only when Velma's second punch landed that they sprang into action.

  Selly and Esme were the first to react, rushing forward to intervene. Esme, with her strength, wrapped her arms around Velma's waist and hauled her off Slynn, while Selly pulled Slynn back.

  Velma struggled against Esme's hold, her face contorted with rage. "Let me go!" she snarled, her voice raw and furious. "He deserves it!"

  Slynn lay on the ground, his face already beginning to swell, blood trickling from his nose. He looked at Velma, his expression a mix of fear and confusion. "Velma, I'm sorry," he croaked, his words muffled by his rapidly swelling lip. "I didn't mean—"

  "Shut up!" Velma screamed, straining against Esme's hold. "You don't get to talk! You don't know anything about me!"

  Velma used her legs to push Esme off, breaking free from her restraint. Velma rushed at Slynn again, who being dragged away by Selly, looked up in fear as she approached.

  Krill crouched beside Slynn, his hands glowing with a soft light as he tended to the bard's injuries. Ignoring the raging warrior coming closer.

  Selly threw herself between Velma and Slynn, her hand outstretched, to push the enraged woman back. “Velma, stop!” Her voice was urgent, yet firm, knowing that if she didn’t act fast, things would escalate further.

  But Velma’s fury was like a storm, a force that could not be swayed so easily. In an instant, Selly was shoved aside. She gritted her teeth, refusing to give up, and rushed forward again, this time grabbing Velma’s arm, trying to twist it and force her back. “Get ahold of yourself!”

  Velma didn’t even flinch. With a feral growl, she spun around, her arm breaking free of Selly’s grasp with a sharp jerk. Selly stumbled, her feet slipping in the loose dirt. But she recovered, her hand darting for Velma’s waist, attempting to get a solid grip to hold her back.

  "Come on, Velma! Don't do this!" Selly pleaded, pulling with all her strength. She wasn’t as strong as Velma, but she was fast, and she used her agility to outmaneuver the raging woman.

  But Velma's anger made her movements precise and brutal. With a growl, she turned into Selly’s hold, her arm shooting out to grab Selly by the wrist. In one fluid motion, Velma yanked Selly off balance, pulling her close. Before Selly could react, Velma swept her legs out from under her, lifting her effortlessly and tossing her over her shoulder.

  The force threw Selly into the air with a stunned gasp; the ground coming up fast. She hit the dirt hard.

  Elara's heart raced as she saw Velma reach down and snatch Selly's dagger from its sheath. The blade glinted menacingly in the firelight as Velma turned her attention back to Slynn, her grip tightening on the weapon.

  Without a second thought, Elara gathered her mana and voidwalked, appearing directly in front of Velma, her arms outstretched to block her path.

  "Velma, stop!" She pleaded similar to Selly previously.

  But Velma's eyes were wild and didn't hesitate, swiping at Elara with the dagger, the blade whistling through the air.

  Elara's hand darted to her belt and drawing the Solstice Shard. The moment the blade met Velma’s, the clash rang out sharply, sending a jolt up Elara’s arm.

  Velma pressed forward, her blows coming fast and hard. Elara could feel the heat of Velma’s anger in each strike, but instead of retreating, she let her skill take over. She shifted her weight, her body moving. With the Solstice Shard dancing in her hand, she parried each of Velma's attacks, deflecting blow after blow.

  At first, she had expected to struggle against Velma’s raw strength. But as the encounter wore on, she realized how effortlessly her hands moved. Her body knew what to do without her mind needing to catch up. A flick of her wrist here, a twist of the blade there. Velma’s blows were stopped before they could land.

  Elara's surprise swiftly faded, letting her skill dictate the flow of the fight. Despite Velma's strength, it was Elara’s precision that controlled the pace now. The tension between them was palpable, but she stood her ground, her confidence growing with each perfect parry.

  As they fought, she saw movement from the corner of her eye. Esme was at Selly's side, helping the scout to her feet. Selly looked shaken, but unharmed.

  The clash of their daggers filled the night air, a discordant rhythm that seemed to have no end. Despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins, Elara couldn't help but wonder how long she could keep this up.

  Between the flurry of strikes, Elara shouted out to the group. "How long do I have to do this?"

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  Krill, still tending to Slynn, glanced up, his brow furrowed with concern. "Until she tires out, or until we can subdue her!"

  Elara gritted her teeth, refocusing on the fight at hand. To her surprise, she found that parrying Velma's blows was becoming easier with each passing moment. Her body seemed to anticipate Velma's movements, her hands guiding the Solstice Shard to meet each strike.

  As they fought, Esme approached cautiously, her eyes locked on Velma's dagger. "Alira!" she called out, her voice urgent. "Can you disarm her? Or at least stagger her so I can restrain her?"

  Elara nodded, her jaw set with determination. She watched Velma's movements, waiting for an opening. When Velma raised her dagger for a heavy blow, she saw her chance.

  With a deft twist of her wrist, Elara caught Velma's blade with her own, the metals screeching as they slid against each other. In the same motion, she stepped forward, using Velma's own momentum against her. She hooked her foot around Velma's ankle and pulled, sending the enraged woman stumbling.

  Velma's eyes widened in surprise as she lost her balance, her dagger slipping from her grasp. It clattered to the ground; the sound ringing out like a bell in the tense silence.

  Elara lunged forward, her body moving with a speed that seemed almost inhuman. The Dragon's Precision skill had taken over, guiding her movements with a deadly accuracy.

  Her eyes locked onto Velma's form, instinctively seeking out the most vulnerable points. The Solstice Shard in her hand felt like an extension of her arm, a lethal instrument ready to strike.

  Velma, still off-balance from Elara's previous maneuver, had no time to react. Elara closed the distance in a heartbeat, her dagger aimed directly at Velma's throat.

  But in that split second, as the tip of the blade hovered a mere centimeter from Velma's skin, Elara's mind caught up with her actions. A sudden, horrifying realization crashed over her like a wave of icy water.

  She was about to kill Velma.

  The thought hit her with such force that it shattered the trance-like state of the Dragon's Precision skill. Elara's hand faltered, the dagger wavering in her grip.

  In that moment of hesitation, Velma’s eyes flickered with something unexpected, an instant of clarity cutting through the fog of her rage. But it was fleeting. With a desperate, almost primal snarl, she acted before Elara could recover. Her leg shot forward with brutal force, connecting with Elara’s stomach in a sickening crack.

  Pain exploded through Elara’s core, sharp and blinding. It felt like her very bones had been struck, the force of the blow lifting her off her feet. Stars burst across her vision, her breath knocked from her lungs in a strangled gasp. The world spun around her, dizzying and distant, as if the very earth beneath her had tilted sideways.

  She staggered back, unable to regain her balance as the force of the kick sent shockwaves through her body. Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, but the damage had already been done. The Solstice Shard slipped from her grasp, the sound of the blade hitting the ground lost beneath the roar in her ears.

  Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, her chest heaving as the pain lingered, searing deep into her muscles. The adrenaline surged through her body, but it felt distant, as if it was moving through water. She couldn’t focus, her mind clouded, the taste of blood in her mouth.

  Through the haze of pain, she saw a blur of motion, a figure lunging at Velma. The two figures hit the dirt with a heavy thud.

  Elara watched, her breath coming in short, painful gasps as she tried to push herself up. But the pain in her stomach was too much, a searing agony that seemed to radiate through her entire body. She fell back, her hand clutching at her midsection as if she could somehow hold herself together.

  As she lay there, helpless and hurting, she felt a warmth on her cheeks. It took her a moment to realize that tears were streaming down her face; the salty water mixing with the dirt and sweat on her skin. She wasn't sure if they were tears of pain, or of something else entirely.

  Perhaps it was the shock of it all, the sudden violence that had erupted out of nowhere. Or maybe it was the realization of how close she had come to taking a human life, to crossing a line that she had never even been near to. The thought made her stomach churn, a wave of nausea rising up her throat.

  Through the blur of her tears, Elara saw Krill rushing over to her, his hands already glowing with the soft light of his healing magic. She felt his touch on her stomach, a gentle warmth that seemed to seep into her very bones. Slowly, the pain ebbed, fading into a dull ache that throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

  But even as the physical pain subsided, she couldn't shake the emotional turmoil that churned within her. She had experienced nothing like this before, never been in a situation where she almost killed someone. It was a sobering realization how easy it was.

  Krill helped Elara lay on her back, allowing him better access to work his healing. As the pain slowly subsided and her mind cleared, she checked her status.

  Health: 410/470

  The realization hit her like a second blow. Velma's kick had dealt a staggering 60 damage. Even after Krill had healed parts of it. She couldn't help but chuckle humorlessly at the thought that she should avoid brawls in the near future. With her current health, she estimated she could only withstand about eight hits before dying. The sobering thought crossed her mind that even a single well-placed strike, like the one she had nearly landed on Velma, could be fatal.

  At the thought of Velma, she craned her neck to observe the ongoing fight between Velma and Esme. The two women were engaged in a fierce fistfight, their movements a blur of strikes and deft dodges. Esme's superior strength was evident in her heavy blows, but Velma's agility allowed her to evade and counter with surprising speed.

  She watched, transfixed by the display of raw prowess. Each punch that connected sent a shockwave through the air, a testament to the force behind them. Velma's face was contorted with rage, her eyes less wild but still unfocused, while Esme's expression was one of grim resolve, her jaw set as she weathered the storm of Velma's fury.

  Elara turned her attention back to Krill, who was focused entirely on healing her injuries. Despite the chaos of the ongoing fight between Esme and Velma, Krill seemed remarkably calm and collected.

  "Is it alright that they're fighting like this?" Elara asked, her voice strained with concern.

  Krill didn't look up from his work, his hands still glowing with the soft light. "It's fine," he said, his tone reassuring. "Neither of them are using weapons, so there's a limit to how much damage they can do to each other."

  Elara frowned, not entirely convinced. The sheer force behind Esme and Velma's blows seemed like it could cause serious harm, even without weapons.

  As if sensing her doubts, Krill continued. "They both have a low level in Unarmed Mastery, so it is fine" he explained.

  Elara nodded slowly, beginning to understand. She had never considered that there might be a specific skill for hand-to-hand combat.

  "I'm not worried about them," Krill said, finally looking up to meet Elara's gaze. "My only concern is that healing them afterwards will slow us down even more."

  Elara's eyes widened at the realization. This fight was going to delay them even further. She cast her gaze back upon Esme and Velma, whose furious battle continued unrelenting, and a sharp pang of regret and inadequacy pierced her heart.

  Elara felt the warmth of Krill's healing magic fade, the pain in her stomach now a dull ache. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her body relaxing as the worst of the damage mended.

  "There," Krill said, his voice soft but firm. "The worst is healed, but you'll still be a bit sore."

  Elara nodded, about to thank him, but the words died on her lips as she noticed Krill's intense gaze fixed upon her. His eyes, usually so gentle, now held a peculiar intensity that made her stop.

  The sound of the ongoing fight between Esme and Velma drew Elara's attention for a moment. She watched as the two women traded blows, their movements a blur of power and speed. But Krill's voice, carefully measured, pulled her focus back to him.

  "Where did you learn your dagger fighting?" he asked, his tone even but probing.

  Elara's eyes widened, shocked at the unexpected question. She turned back to Krill, meeting his unwavering stare. There was no accusation in his gaze.

  Elara hesitated, unsure of how to respond. She wasn't entirely sure herself. The skill with the dagger, the way her body seemed to move on its own, guided by her skill... it was all new to her. She can't tell him she learned by picking up a dagger and striking at a dragon. That sounded ludicrous even to her own ears.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. How could she explain something she didn't fully understand herself? Elara's brow furrowed as she grappled with these questions, trying to formulate a response to Krill's query. She could feel his eyes on her, patient but expectant, waiting for her to speak.

  Elara took a moment to decide but choose to stick to the truth as much as possible. "I had a mentor," she said.

  Krill hummed, a thoughtful sound. "Did you ever fight your mentor?" he asked, his tone probing.

  Elara paused, considering the question. She shook her head slowly. What she and Flamebeard did... it can't be called fighting.

  Krill hummed again, a sound that seemed to carry a weight of understanding. "Your mentor was a fool," he said, his words blunt and unexpected.

  The sudden insult to Flamebeard completely floored Elara. She stared at Krill, her mouth slightly agape, unsure of how to react.

  Seeing her shock, Krill elaborated. "It was foolish and dangerous of your mentor to never have spared with you," he explained, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I could immediately recognize a rookie when I saw you lose control of your skill and nearly kill Velma."

  Elara felt a flush of shame at his words, the memory of her dagger at Velma's throat still fresh and raw. She looked down, unable to meet Krill's gaze.

  "I... I didn't mean to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It just happened so fast, and my body moved on its own..."

  Krill nodded, his expression softening slightly. "That's exactly the problem," he said. "Your skill level looks to be high, but you lack the experience and control to use it properly. That's something that can only be gained through actual combat, through sparring with someone who can push you and teach you to rein in your skill's instinct."

  Elara listened, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized the truth in Krill's words. She had never truly prepared for the reality of combat, for the split-second decisions and the weight of holding someone's life in her hands. She had only fought to kill until now.

  Her gaze drifted back to the ongoing fight between Esme and Velma, the two women exchanging blows with a ferocity that made her wince.

  Esme grabbed Velma's wrist, twisting it in a way that made Velma cry out in pain.

  The sound of Velma's struggles grew fainter, and Elara's gaze met Esme's, who was now holding Velma in a tight grip. As the tension dissipated, Elara felt a sense of relief wash over her, followed closely by exhaustion.