Chapter 18 : Isn’t This Just Perfect Timing?

Rosily panted lightly but didn’t slow her steps as she ran forward. 

Even though someone was chasing her, she didn’t let go of the rabbit she was holding in her arms.

The forest floor was covered in fallen leaves, soft and muffling her footsteps. 

The exposed roots were slick with moss, but thankfully, every step she took was sure and steady. 

She didn’t slip or misstep once.

Even though the man in the black robe behind her had enhanced his legs with magic, he still couldn’t close the distance quickly. 

This secretly alarmed him—he became more certain that Rosily wasn’t just an ordinary girl.

“Damn it, I can’t keep chasing! If I go any farther, those other guys are going to catch up!”

It turned out—he was being chased too.

Beneath the robe was a face as pale as a corpse. 

His dark lips parted into a long slit, revealing a pair of sharp fangs. 

Crimson eyes were locked onto Rosily’s back like a predator tracking prey.

The only reason he had managed to catch up earlier was due to an intense craving inside him—an unrelenting urge for blood. 

Fresh, magic-rich blood.

He wanted to stop, to still his legs.

But that near-mad hunger shattered any last traces of reason. 

With a burst of terrifying speed, he lunged forward.

Suddenly, the girl twisted her body and darted off in another direction—causing the black-robed man to crash face-first into a tree. 

Rosily didn’t look back to mock him. 

She simply kept running forward.

She had a strange feeling—as if something was calling to her, guiding her. 

Something was waiting up ahead, not far now.

Breaking through the underbrush, the forest opened into a clearing.

What lay before Rosily was nothing more than an ordinary open field.

Even the strange feeling inside her vanished completely.

“Huh? What’s going on?”

“Ee-ya-ya~!”

The rabbit she’d been holding suddenly cried out and began to kick and struggle wildly—completely unlike its previously docile behavior.

These sudden changes made the girl freeze in place.

The black-robed man, who had been relentlessly chasing her, took advantage of the pause and caught up. 

As he prepared to leap forward and sink his teeth into the delicious, magic-rich blood of the girl—

A flash of brilliant white light slashed through the air.

A gleaming sword blade severed the black-robed man in a single stroke.

Blood splattered onto the ground, and as it met the sunlight, it hissed into black smoke. 

With a sharp whoosh, it ignited into flames.

The black-robed man, his body nearly sliced in half, writhed in pain on the ground. 

He looked up with his ghastly, pale face and locked eyes with the newcomer. 

When he saw the long red hair—

He clenched his teeth.

“Henna Assadès!”

That’s right—the one who had just rescued Rosily was none other than Henna.

She now stood clad in armor that fit her form perfectly, holding a silver-white longsword blazing with fire.

The blow she’d delivered was enough to instantly kill any ordinary person. 

But not only did the black-robed man survive, he even managed to scream in rage. 

As the bleeding stopped, razor-sharp claws extended from his gloved hands.

With a feral roar, he lunged toward Henna, overflowing with violent magical energy.

Henna let out a soft scoff. 

She shook the flames off her sword and leapt in front of Rosily. 

A soft red magical glow burst from her body as she met the attacker head-on.

Her sword, imbued with magic, clashed against his claws—shattering them on impact.

The black-robed man was flung through the air, tumbling across the ground. 

But even so, he tried to recover and rush forward again—either to attack Henna or to reach Rosily, whom she was shielding.

Only by drinking fresh blood could he restore his strength—only then might he escape Henna alive.

But clearly, Henna had no intention of letting that happen.

After several back-and-forth clashes, she finally shouted in frustration.

“Enough, Lune!” she shouted angrily.

She brought her sword down with full force, striking directly at the figure before her. 

The black-robed man was sent flying and crashed to the ground. 

He struggled to his feet, a gash splitting open across his pale face.

Henna narrowed her eyes and said coldly, “You’re not him!?”

Suddenly, the man burst into manic laughter. 

He threw back his hood, revealing a thin, emaciated body.

And the moment sunlight touched his skin, his flesh ignited like white phosphorus—bursting into flames the instant it was exposed. 

Even as he burned, his sharp, eerie laughter echoed from within the fire.

Seeing this, Henna clenched her fists tightly.

She had fallen for a diversion tactic.

Rosily’s bright eyes sparkled, her mouth slightly agape—she had been completely captivated, carefully watching Henna’s every move.

“So… cool!”

…

Meanwhile, Enya was carefully reassembling thin transparent shards into a gemstone, then reattaching it to a necklace. 

She adjusted the enchantments on the necklace so that whenever it was activated, she would instantly sense it.

This was a skill she had picked up in her free time—originally just curious about how fascinating magic was. 

But eventually, she realized just how complex it was—if you wanted to learn magic, you had to learn math first.

So Enya gave up on becoming a mage and chose to be a swordswoman instead.

After finishing the delicate adjustments, she let out a breath of relief and stretched her body—only to suddenly feel that Rosily was in danger.

She shot to her feet, expression turning cold.

The lighting in her study dimmed, and the scenery around her began to shift rapidly—first the outer courtyard, then open plains, and finally a detailed topographical map.

In the span of a single breath, Enya was already high above Redpine City.

Though Redpine’s city walls were winding, the general layout was circular—except for the northern side, where a protruding “horn” of land extended outward. 

This included a small river, a patch of grassland, and part of the great forest.

Enya looked toward the forest. 

Her golden-red vertical pupils narrowed slightly.

She saw that Rosily was being chased—and she also sensed exactly who was luring her in that direction. 

Wasn’t it that sword she’d buried long ago?

“Tch.”

She clicked her tongue.

With a wave of her hand, Enya instantly switched Rosily and the black-robed man’s positions.

As for the sword… once it sensed it had been discovered, it dejectedly buried itself back into the earth.

Then, by “coincidence,” Henna happened to save Rosily—and began a fierce battle with the black-robed attacker.

But Enya didn’t spare the fight a second glance. 

Her gaze shifted farther north—to the northern gate of Redpine City, where a human outpost had been built within the forest.

In a single step, she appeared above the gate.

This place bustled with adventurers and hunters who made a living slaying magical beasts. 

Over time, a robust commercial district had formed here—vendors selling weapons and armor, magic scrolls and potions, adventurers’ guilds, and all kinds of service establishments.

Enya locked onto a particular room in an inn. 

With a thought, she donned a black cloak—the hood had two slits cut into it, and once it was on her head, the lowered brim concealed her face entirely.

In an instant, she was standing in the hallway, directly outside the room. 

Without hesitation, Enya walked through the wall and into the room.

Inside, five scantily clad women lay sprawled across the floor in disarray. 

Their faces were pale, bodies emaciated, and each had twin puncture wounds on their necks.

On the bed, a young man clung to one woman’s soft, lifeless body—feasting passionately on her throat.