A strange sensation made William feel his heart pounding. The heat within him seemed to rise, and his breathing intensified. He experienced a fear that he couldn't quite explain; the fear of having killed the man. Yet, alongside that fear, there was something else, an unnameable emotion that briefly brought a small smile to his face.
All this attention was overshadowed by a floating message.
[You evolved!]
The message appeared clearly in front of William's eyes. He swallowed hard and checked the system status. It remained almost the same—'Evolve!'—but now there was an additional message: 'You evolved.' This exact phrase had just come up for him. However, this information was neither clear nor sufficient. Evolved what? He had expected something like levels or stages, but there was nothing. Well, the system was broken anyway; he shouldn't have expected much from it. Even this new message could simply be another error.
Shaking off the thought with his usual pessimism, closed the floating panel with a thought, as usual, and turned his attention back to the 'dead' man.
He watched intently for five tense seconds. Then another five. The silence was heavy, broken only by the distant rustling of the forest and the sound of his own breathing.
The hairy man's chest rose. Fell. Rose again in an irregular but present rhythm. Then he gave a low grunt; an unconscious sound, of someone who is profoundly unconscious but still alive.
'He's alive. Great. He's just completely knocked out.'
He released a breath he didn't know he was holding and lowered the club, relaxing his posture. But not completely, his eyes still remained on the fallen body, vigilant, waiting for any suspicious movement. He didn't want to be attacked again.
That's when he was caught off guard.
'Damn, I let my guard down.'
He felt something warm and soft collide with him like a projectile coming from his blind side.
The woman.
She had run to him and literally thrown herself into his arms in a completely unexpected embrace. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders in a quick, almost violent movement, so intense was it. It was an awkward hug, her legs almost leaving the ground, her whole body pressing against his without any reservation, without any space between them.
And that absurdly large chest crushed against his chest with full force.
'Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.'
William's brain froze momentarily. His body froze like a statue. His arms lay open, motionless, the club hanging in one hand, completely unable to process what to do.
She was hot. Very hot. Sweaty from the fight and the desperation, her skin smooth against his. Breathing heavily against his neck, each hot exhalation sending shivers down William's spine, making the hairs on his arm stand on end. The hug was tighter and stronger than a normal hug. Okay. This is... this is good. This is extremely good. William felt his face heat up.
Her breasts pressed against him in a way that was impossible to ignore. Soft yet firm, warm through the thin leather straps that barely contained that mass. Too big to be natural, but there they were, crushed against his ribs as she tightened her embrace even more. He could feel every inch of that pressure, every movement of her breath against his own chest.
'Is she hiding something there? She has to be. Nobody is like this naturally. Stay focused! Stay focused! What was the focus again?!'
William kind of stood there like a post, trapped between the girl's arms, completely frozen, not knowing what to do with the situation. His hands were still holding the club. His face must have been as red as a pepper. Should he hug back? How long would that hug last? Was this how it worked?
Eventually, after a few seconds that seemed to end too quickly, his arms closed around her waist slowly, hesitantly. His hand released the club, which fell to the ground with a dull thud that neither of them seemed to notice. His arms wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her closer in a cautious, almost shy gesture.
Slowly and gently. Returning the embrace lightly.
"It's... it's all right now." His voice came out hoarser than he intended. "You're safe."
He murmured the words softly, even though he thought she wouldn't understand him. But the tone had to get the message across. Calm and comforting. The kind of voice you use with a frightened person or an injured animal, the kind of voice that reassured.
She tightened her embrace for a long moment in response, her face buried in the curve between his neck and shoulder. William felt her breath against his skin, warm and moist. He felt her shoulders trembling slightly, not from crying, but from relief, from tension dissipating. Her fingers dug into his back, holding him as if he were about to disappear.
Then, finally, she began to pull away.
She took a step back, creating space between them. But her hands still held his arms, as if she needed the physical contact to anchor herself.
She looked at him with those huge, intense amber eyes. The expression was hard to read, gratitude, clearly. But also curiosity. Assessment. As if she expected some action or attitude from William, some next move that would determine how she should react.
'What does she want me to do? Is this the moment the hero kisses the helpless maiden? What should I do?'
William continued staring at the woman, unsure how to proceed. Silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sounds of the forest, insects, unknown birds, the wind in the treetops. She looked back, her eyes tracing his face, shoulders, arms, as if trying to memorize every detail.
The woman nodded again, more emphatically this time. The movement was clear: thank you. Thank you very much. A thank you that needed no words.
And then she looked at the ground. At the club he had dropped. The dark, dense wood, unlike the surrounding trees, with its thicker end stained from use. On one side, a sunken part; the part where he had struck the man. Fresh blood glistened on the surface, slowly trickling down the wood grain.
Then she looked at the brute's knocked-out body. Far away, motionless, breathing irregularly. She looked back at the club. Then at his face.
The woman slightly bowed her head. Downward. The movement was strangely formal, almost ceremonious. Offering her head, her hair, as if expecting...
'A caress? Want it again?'
No. That wasn't it. It was more as if she were offering herself for him to pull again, like the other man did. Maybe that's how things worked in this world. Maybe, in her mind, that club and that victory meant that William now had rights over her. That he was the new... owner? Protector? Partner?
William's fingers opened in a deliberate gesture.
He opened both hands, raising them to shoulder height, palms facing her. Showing that he had nothing. That he had no weapon. That his hands were empty and open.
The intention was clear: to say that it was not his intention to do the same as the previous man. That he wasn't going to pull, wasn't going to control, wasn't going to possess.
She didn't say anything. Not a word since he had arrived. Only nods, gestures, expressions. But her eyes... her eyes said a lot. Confusion, yes. But also something that could be recognition. As if she were seeing something she hadn't seen in a long time. Or perhaps something she had never seen before.
'Is she mute? Or does she just not speak my language??'
It didn't matter much. Communication could work without words. Maybe he could even teach her a few words, with time and patience. If she wanted to stay. If she trusted him enough for that.
William kept his hands open for a few more seconds, letting the gesture speak for itself. Then, slowly, he lowered his arms. A small, tired smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.