Petro's gaze flicked desperately between the crowd and the man who was supposed to save him. His eyes pleaded with those gathered, searching for a sliver of mercy.
But the people, those same ones who once lingered around him, didn't even dare look at him.
The realization hollowed him.
Helplessness constricted his chest, and the gnawing scent of death seemed to coil tighter with every heartbeat. His face drained of color.
Even Vorrack… even he seemed to have turned away.
"P–Please! Don't kill me!" Petro's voice cracked, the words tumbling out between ragged sobs. Tears streaked down his cheeks, clinging to his chin before falling.
Moments ago, he was still hopeful. Now the hope had been shattered, replaced by the ugly, pitiful sight of a man stripped of all pride.
No one moved to help.
Some even smirked, their eyes bright with vindictive pleasure. They were the same people Petro had mocked and tormented, the ones too weak to raise a hand when he bullied them.
Now, they drank in his terror, savoring his cries the way he once savored theirs.
Oh, how the tables had turned.
Lina didn't flinch.
Her gaze stayed fixed on him, expression carved from stone. His begging brought her no satisfaction but only a deeper, more simmering fury.
She remembered her pleas, her wails, the sound of his laughter as she suffered. Her blood burned, but outwardly she remained unmoved.
"Vor—"
Plop!
The sound was abrupt, wet, final. A blade's edge had slipped clean through his neck, cutting off both his words and his life. His severed head toppled to the ground, eyes still wide, mouth frozen mid-plea.
A hot gush of blood erupted from the stump, spraying across the packed earth and painting it in crimson. Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Vorrack stood over the headless body, his expression cold, unreadable. Blood clung to the edge of his blade, catching the sunlight in a deep, ominous gleam.
Slowly, he raised his gaze to the crowd.
"The criminal has been dealt with," he declared, his voice cutting through the silence. "There's no point in listening further when his crimes are already clear."
His words settled over them like a decree.
Indeed, just as he said, Petro's fate had been sealed. Whether now or later, death was the only road before him.
The crowd began to stir.
"Yeah! He deserved it!"
"I agree—no point in letting him speak."
"He should've thought of this before touching the girl!"
Cheers rose, first from those loyal to Vorrack, then from others carried along by the swelling tide. The grim air gave way to murmurs of approval, and the tension in the square eased.
Vorrack allowed himself the faintest internal breath of relief, though his face remained stern. He could not appear eager, else the fingers would point at him.
Turning to Kael, he dipped his head slightly. "I… I'm sorry. I acted too quickly." His voice rose, enough for those nearby to hear.
"But when I thought of the horror that elf girl endured… I couldn't hold back. How much agony must she have felt, knowing her assaulter stood before her? I couldn't… I wouldn't make her endure it a moment longer."
The crowd found themselves moved. He was right. What would the victim be going through, seeing their perpetrator?
However, some couldn't help but find this event strange.
Just a moment ago, he was blaming the elves.
Then what's with this sudden change of heart?
Though his antics seemed strange, they couldn't bring themselves to voice their doubts. Most of the people here had a favorable impression of him and supported him.
Hence, those people figured it wasn't the right time to delve more into this matter.
Just like those people, Kael had his doubts about Vorrack. This further solidified his suspicion. Truth be told, he could have prevented the attack.
But he didn't because he wanted to confirm something.
The moment before he acted, Kael had heard Petro mention his name. But it wasn't sufficient to apprehend him of colluding.
Even if Petro confessed, it wouldn't be enough to catch him.
He could just manipulate the crowd, saying he held a grudge against him and was blaming him. Though the confession might stain his reputation, it wouldn't be enough to bring him down.
Hence, there wasn't even any point in hearing his confession.
"It's alright. But I prefer you not act so rashly next time."
Kael didn't press further on this matter.
He had confirmed his suspicion. Now, he had to gather evidence and deal with him in private. He didn't want to fuel a rebellion.
Just like the others present at the scene, the trio of elves was stunned. This sudden execution surprised them.
What just happened?
Lina's gaze remained fixed on the severed head of her assaulter. The same person who had made her world a living hell now lay motionless before her, his gaze wide open.
For once, she felt her rage quench.
"I hope this serves as a warning and example for others," Kael said, facing the crowd.
The crowd averted their gaze from the corpse and nodded in understanding. Some gulped their saliva, imagining their corpse.
It was clear to the tribesmen that what awaited them after committing a crime was death.
This was a clear warning.
"With that being said, we need to set rules and orders to prevent such incidents from repeating. We'll discuss more about it later."
**** ****
"P— Please spare me!"
Thunder rumbled and flashes of lightning flickered as a voice filled with terror echoed.
A pair of crimson glowed as it stared beneath.
Thunder growled across the heavens. Lightning split the dark, and for a heartbeat the scene was laid bare: a young Leo-kin, mane damp with rain, fangs clenched in silent fury… and before him, an older Leo-kin, crown glinting in the brief flash.
The storm seemed to hold its breath.
Power gathered in the youth's grasp, the scent of ozone burning in the air. Lightning coiled around his sword, snarling like a living snake.
With a single step, he stomped on the chest of the older Leo-kin before he drove the blade forward, straight into the crowned one's chest.
The thunder crashed. The crown slipped.
Darkness swallowed everything.