Freya—the same woman Four Eyes bowed to like a damn princess back in Eldoria.
The one he called an S-rank Hunter.
A dark elf who somehow knew my name, even though I didn't know who the hell she was.
"What are you doing here?" I whispered.
"I should ask you the same," she shot back, grabbing my arm. "But no time—get up, we're leaving."
"Leaving?" I scowled. "Where the hell to?"
"I'm not letting you die here," she said, dead serious. "I've got lots of questions for you—questions about that demon who attacked the kingdom. Asher, I can't just stand by and watch you get killed."
"Wait, what demon?"
She leaned in, her long, blue hair brushing against my face like silk.
"Don't play dumb. We got to the scene late with Liloth and the others after the demon had disappeared, but I heard everything. Never underestimate an elf's ears? They're not long just for decoration," she hissed.
I blinked, trying to make sense of it. What exactly did she want from me?
