The force of Willow's strike was immense, leaving the skeleton knight staggering back several steps. A brief daze clouded his senses, though unlike Willow he bore no injury. Confusion flickered across his hollow gaze, uncertain what her erratic and unpredictable move was meant to accomplish.
Shaking his skull to dispel the haze, he hastily prepared his stance once more. Yet before he could fully recover, another attack came — this time aimed at his elbow joints. What unsettled him most was the sensation: it was not a punch or a kick, but something sharper, as though a weapon were digging into his very bones.
It took only a moment for the skeleton knight to shake off the daze, the pain in his elbow and the near loss of his hand jolting him back into focus. Regaining clarity, he looked onward and quickly noticed Willow clutching her tooth dagger once more.
At last, he saw reason in her chaos, understanding the purpose behind her unpredictable strikes. With that discernment, the knight abandoned his defensive stance.
For the first time, he charged forward with intent, his scimitar gleaming, while Willow, resolute and unyielding, responded by charging toward him as well. Two wills collided, each determined to prove their strength.
***
As Willow clashed with the skeleton knight wielding Momon's scimitar, other members of the exiles crept closer to the soul‑beings' camp, each driven by selfish motives. A few metres behind Willow was Sasha.
The moment she saw Willow break from her hiding place and lead the charge in order to pillage the camp, Sasha too emerged from concealment. Her eyes burned with determination, and though her reasons were her own, she followed in Willow's wake, ready to carve her path through the chaos.
Sasha was behind Willow, though not directly behind her — she was several miles back, and it would take a considerable amount of time before she could reach the place where Willow fought. Because of this distance, she had not witnessed Willow's battle with the skeleton knight, nor the strange suit the knight wore.
Yet Sasha's path was no less perilous. Though she did not face a skeleton knight immediately upon entering the soul‑beings' camp, she found her own problems waiting.
Quite the contrary, Sasha was terrified. Though she wore a calm facade and followed Eric, their leader, without question, her heart longed to be anywhere else. As she neared the soul‑beings' camp, countless thoughts swirled in her mind.
She cursed the day she had taken the elixir that condemned her to the ill fate of becoming a dark elf. More than anything, she wished she were safely tucked away in the enchanted domain among her kin, far from this looming chaos. Yet here she was, bound by choices she could not undo, walking into danger with dread gnawing at her soul.
Though Sasha never voiced how she truly felt to her comrades, she knew they saw the fear in her eyes and pitied her, trying to shield her whenever possible. But now she was no longer safely within their presence — everyone was scattered, forced to fend for themselves.
Just eight dark elves stood against more than a hundred soul‑beings, the odds grim and unforgiving. That was why they had split apart, each tasked with hunting stragglers among the soul‑beings before daring to confront the truly powerful members and organized groups. The strategy was desperate, but it was the only chance they had.
It was especially hard for Sasha, for she was neither warrior nor rogue. She was no combatant, no fighter — her role in the exiles had always been that of an extra, supporting her comrades from the shadows, setting traps while they clashed with skeleton knights, liches, and other soul‑beings.
Now, stripped of that safety and forced to stand alone against a number of soul‑beings, terror consumed her. She could not help but feel scared, certain that this day would be her last, the moment her fate as a dark elf finally claimed her life.
Although Sasha was not a combatant, that did not mean she was weak. She thrived on the power and thrill of survival, a trait befitting a dark elf. Yet it was her choice never to train her body or mind to wield true strength in battle. Instead, she relied on cunning, traps, and her personal enchanted weapon — an elastic whip that stunned foes and hurled them back to safety.
Sasha chose the life of a pacifist, refusing to be gruesome like her comrades, keeping her hands clean while aiding from the shadows. But deep down, she never came to terms with the obvious truth: she was still a monster, no matter how carefully she tried to deny it.
So far, that mentality had shielded Sasha from the truth about herself, allowing her to believe she was the only sane one among her group. It had also kept her away from danger, convincing her she could survive without ever proving her worth.
Yet deep down, she knew that when the time came to stand and fight, her hesitation would mean death — either her own or that of her companions. And now, as the soul‑beings' camp loomed before her, she felt the weight of inevitability. The day she had long dreaded, the day she could no longer run, had finally arrived.
As Sasha moved forward, she was confronted by a storm of emotions, struggling to steady herself and believe in her own strength despite the undeniable trembling of her body.
Fear coursed through her veins, yet her mind replayed every choice that had led her to this moment. Regret weighed heavily, and the desire to flee gnawed at her heart. A fervent hope flickered within — the dream of escaping back to the enchanted domain, of being welcomed despite her altered form and cursed fate as a dark elf. It was a fragile hope, but it was all she had to hold onto.
Alas, Sasha knew she could not run. Though the cowardly thought of escape gnawed at her, she could not abandon her comrades — some of whom had become true friends over the long months together.
Fear still rattled her bones, but she resolved in her heart that she must try her best to battle the soul‑beings, not only for herself but for those she cared about. And if she failed, she would accept death without hesitation, so long as it came fighting side by side with her companions, proving her loyalty in the face of overwhelming odds.