As they moved along, Dante released his hold on Vexion when a group of elves burst from behind a tree. He smiled, watching the sighs of relief ripple through them. Nodding calmly, he led the way toward the gate while Vexion maintained a submissive, slight bow at his side—a gesture Dante clearly liked.
Hehe, the bitch might be crazy, but she is strong. I never thought I'd get something like this when I came here, Dante mused inwardly. Even as he prided himself on his stoicism, he felt a tingle in his pants—a reminder that, despite his hardened exterior, youth still stirred within him. Fucking shit, puberty is going to ruin my good night at this point, I swear.
As they neared the gate, Dante was addressed by the assembled group. "Young master, you came out well. We heard nothing while we were outside—no fights or anything of that kind," he answered with a chuckle. "Oh that ,that was cause of my skill and, the design of this house. Whoever built this shit wanted things to be kept on the hush so they made them soundproof—after all, they were keeping elves as slaves, illegally too."
The girls exchanged knowing glances, realizing the obvious truth they'd previously overlooked.
A dark elf among them, dressed in sleek black combat robes and boots, her black hair framing beautiful brown eyes, nodded as she regarded her sister—whose eyes, though wide awake, still held distress as she looked at the little boy with confusion. This dark elf, older than….. the sister who Dante chose to call her "the kid with potential to be a beauty" who had briefly captured Dante's attention, lacked the physical allure or simply put , the thickness he desired—promptly causing his interest to wane. "I see that is indeed true, my lord," she agreed.
Dante nodded. Finally they reached the gate. A couple of soldiers from afar had been watching them, causing the elves to tense up—all except Dante and Vexion.
Approaching a young guard elf who had not noticed them. Dante waved his hand dismissively. "Vexion the, rat deal with it," he commanded. Immediately, Vexion responded, with a nod. The onlookers saw only her raise her hand before her hand. In an instant, the guard was yanked down with such high velocity that he found himself forced onto his knees. His heart hammered wildly beneath his chest as he tried, in vain, to lift his gaze. A relentless force pressed him down further and further until his knees reached their breaking point.
With shattering, snapping sounds, his knees collapsed under the crushing pressure. His back snapped as his body was bent flat, and soon, his bones gave way—until finally, his skull shattered.
By the time they fully passed the guard's mangled remains, blood and broken bones were laid bare. The elves watched in horrified silence, trying to comprehend what had transpired. None among them possessed a legendary skill—only Dante and Vexion did.
To their eyes, all that had occurred was Vexion bowing, raising her hand, and the man being squashed like a bug. They stared at the so-called halfling with terror. Not one of them knew how to react.
They had once mocked this halfling, using her as a scapegoat to vent their anger and frustration at being forced into battle and beaten down. Yet the very same halfling wielded such strength?
They paled in fright.
Dante stood with his hands in his pockets and a calm smirk on his face. "Vexion, you're really a perfect find,", he continued, "I'm glad I was able to find such a strong subordinate." The elves paled even further. His words made it unmistakably clear that he valued her. They all knew that if she chose to kill them, the young lord wouldn't bat an eye—thus, their only hope lay in Vexion's mercy.
Vexion's heart pounded wildly with excitement. She trembled with joy; her natural power was always a formidable deterrent, yet she could not match the effortless grace that her master exuded.
Even if he did nothing, his presence alone evoked a blend of apprehension and fear. She watched the elves, who were desperately trying to put as much distance between themselves and her as possible, and then moved closer to the dark elf who had been designated as their leader. Ever obedient, Vexion followed her master's lead as she sent a venomous smirk toward them. Without warning, she released a bit of her aura . The effect was immediate: the elves' faces turned ashen with terror. What they had once feared as a possibility now promised the certainty of death. Her aura was so overwhelming that some of them soon became woozy and dizzy, their pleas for mercy drowned in the oppressive dread.
Meanwhile, Dante paid them no heed. What Vexion did was really of no little regard to him, after all he spared these people out of curiosity and boredom.
He simply began to ascend into the air until he hovered at the height of a two-story mansion.
The struggling elves gasped for breath as they watched Vexion, whose devilish smile only deepened the horror. Before she could speak further, two dark elves—especially the dark-haired beauty who had been spared the worst of the aura's effects—spoke up for her fellow Dark elves. "Miss Vexion, I understand you were treated horribly by them, and they spoke quite rudely to you while you were all being held, but please try to understand—they were under immense torture and stress. Their actions and words at that time were not chosen with proper thoughtfulness."
At this Dante who was in his own thoughts paused. Something about what this elf said severely pissed him off, words that brought anger, words similar to what he heard in the …past…
Vexion was about to reply when Dante's normally calm voice turned ice cold. His words, though not loud, were delivered with chilling clarity as a terrifying aura snuffed out Vexion's own, briefly washing over her before moving on to the rest of the elves. In that instant, the girl who had spoken, her sister, and the other elves all felt the presence of death looming overhead—as if a guillotine hovered above their heads, ready to deliver a swift end.
Unaccustomed to Dante's murderous intent, the other girls began choking on their own spit, coughing as if being chocked by an inconceivable power. Seconds later, blood leaked in dripples from their noses, eyes, ears, and mouths. The only exception was the dark elf who had long known Dante; though she too was coughing, struggling for air, her pain was to a lesser extent, but she felt as if her stomach had been violently upended.
"Lexa," Dante called.
Lexa paled visibly. Her heart pounded at an ever-increasing pace, each beat thundering in her ears—far beyond what she could bear. Sweat gathered on her hands, and her body bowed lower in fear. This was the first time the young lord had addressed her by name. She had believed that while he was strong, he wasn't omniscient; he didn't seem to be a mind reader—at least, that was what she thought, having seen "all" his skills. And yet now she wondered, How did he know? How much does he really know?
Dante's cold voice continued, "I don't fucking care who your family members are or how strong you think they are, but listen to me carefully. I don't give a fuck if you start a sentence like that with anyone else, but never, ever utter the words 'I understand how you feel, but please try to understand' to me or my subordinates. You don't know how Vexion feels—you haven't experienced what it's like to live a life where you're hated by everyone you know just because of who you are. She shouldn't have to give or show mercy to the assholes who made her life unbearable and difficult. They—none of them—showed her any mercy, yet you, who have never experienced a life of suffering, who have never had to kill your fellow people to eat, who have never been in danger while you sleep, were awake, or even when you just wanted privacy to take a shit, you have have no right! Absolutely no right! to tell her to try to understand!
"Did any of them ever try to understand her? Ask your sister—did she, out of righteousness, try to speak up for her? Hear her out; perhaps she can prove me wrong. But you all know what it feels like to be mistreated and hated as dark elves—the so-called pure elves make your lives hell, yet you have the audacity to treat half-elves even worse? Moreover, my subordinate, who never chose to be born of parents who were themselves half-demon and Beast kind, has suffered far more than your kind ever has. So don't ever call for mercy when you all cursed and made her life even more difficult. She played the cards she was dealt; in the end, she grew stronger—strong enough to take your lives. And only now did you bother to call her by her name or offer her even an ounce of respect. I can tell you've been referring to her as a halfling when you speak of her in hushed tones or in your heads. Lexa, I think highly of you, but do not mistake my actions for kindness. Just because I spared your life doesn't mean I'm afraid or unwilling to kill you. You have never lived Vexion's life, so never tell her you understand—or that she must understand—until you've walked in her shoes. Understand? Do not make me repeat myself. Mind your words when you speak to her, understand?!"