Mara lay on the ground in agony. One guard had just finished with her, and another was getting ready to take his place. She would die here, she knew that to be true. Another truth was that she would welcome the sweet peace of death.
She had been serving the Guild Master diligently for this entire trip, happy to do so, in fact, because the commission from it meant she could repay a large portion of the loan she owed to the madam.
This trip was never meant to be hers, but the madam did not want to send one of her better girls. Since Mara was among the weakest, she was sent over to Guildmaster Brian's camp.
The madam knew full well that Mara might not return; any trip into the Hollowvail Forest was highly risky, even with a powerful team. But knowing Guildmaster Brian's penchant for being stingy, the madam assumed he would only hire subpar people. Therefore, she sent Mara as a "subpar" disposable girl.
Knowing all of this, Mara was still excited to go. It was her first time being away from the house since she had been sold, and she looked forward to seeing more of the world even if she had to die to see such views.
During the trip, the other girls found the forest dark and frightening, preferring to stay in the tent and serve Guildmaster Brian. But not Mara—she liked to go out once in a while to take in the scenery.
Even when the trip was extended because of the sighting of a rare hollow beast, she didn't complain. While the other girls merely endured, Mara basked in the unrestrained forest, even if it was filled with twisted mana held back only by a D-level wind user's barrier that was beginning to thin after the hunting party had stayed too long.
Everything had been going well for Mara until Guildmaster Brian mercilessly threw her to the men in the camp.
She couldn't protest. She couldn't fight back. She had no choice but to accept that this was her fate.
The men of the camp didn't care for her well-being. Most saw her as a tool to be used and discarded. A few stopped to give her water or food, and that was the only reason she hadn't died already. But even those few only did so because they didn't want her to die too soon and end their fun.
As Mara lay on the ground, waiting for death to take her from this torture, she looked over at a girl being beaten by one of Guildmaster Brian's guards. Mara sympathized with her. That particular guard had been especially brutal—once he had taken his turn, he had nearly ripped Mara apart with his rough treatment.
When she saw the girl bite the guard's ankle, Mara wanted to laugh and cheer. Serves you right.
The man who was about to mount her became distracted by the guard's painful howling. He pulled up his pants and went over to watch the spectacle. While everyone else focused on the guard, Mara kept her eyes on the girl.
She thought the girl would die today as well. And with that thought, Mara felt strangely close to her—another body lying on the ground, drowning in her own blood.
As she watched, Mara was the first to notice something peculiar.
The blood flowing from the girl's body began to move in reverse.
The hounds were the second to sense that something was amiss. They began to bark wildly, nearly breaking their necks and gnawing at their leashes in a desperate attempt to escape. Mara watched as everyone's attention shifted toward the dogs.
"What the fuck is happening? You—" Brian pointed at the guards who were supposed to handle them. "Shut those damn dogs up!"
The collars on the dogs began to glow. They whined in pain, but their barking didn't stop. The other captured beasts started reacting as well, making all sorts of noise and slamming against their cages.
Meanwhile, behind everyone, the pool of blood was rising, forming four columns around the girl. As they rose, the guard whom the girl had bitten suddenly began to scream as if he were in unbearable pain.
Everyone turned their attention back to him. The guard collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg, his screams agonizing and horrific to hear.
"Grant, shut the fuck up!" Guildmaster Brian was furious at this point. Not only were the hounds and beasts going mad, but now the guard was as well. The entire camp was captivated by the chaos—Grant screaming, Brian shouting, and the hounds howling.
But Mara wasn't watching them.
She was watching the blood.
One of the columns stopped rising and instead flowed toward the girl, spreading over her body like a crimson veil. It covered her skin and clothes before vanishing, as though it had been absorbed into her.
The moment it disappeared, the girl's eyes snapped open.
From where she lay, Mara could see the girl slowly raise her hand, examining it. The hand was completely healed, smooth, unblemished, almost beautiful.
Mara watched as the girl sat up, running her fingers along her clean skin. Her nails were long and black, like claws. She dragged one across her face, as if confirming she was whole.
The remaining columns of blood began to collapse inward, flowing toward her hands. The streams coiled around her fingers like living snakes before sinking into her skin.
Then, slowly, the girl rose to her feet.
Everything happened in eerie silence—no shift of air, no rustle of leaves—just a quiet, unnatural stillness.
Mara's heart leapt into her throat when the girl abruptly turned her head toward her.
Mara choked on her own spit.
The girl's eyes were completely black, with no trace of white in the sclera. A cold dread flooded Mara's body.
She was looking at a true monster wearing a human face.
The girl smiled.
Sharp, unnatural teeth gleamed in the dim light, and Mara's eyes widened in terror.
The girl put one finger to her lips, signaling for Mara to be quiet.
Mara nodded, willing to do anything this monster girl told her.
In the blink of an eye, the creature was at Mara's side. Mara gasped and shut her eyes tightly, bracing herself for the pain of the killing blow.
What was she going to do? Break her neck? Rip out her heart?
Seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
Slowly, Mara forced one eye open. She saw the girl reaching toward her with a black-tipped finger.
Mara hurriedly squeezed her eyes shut again.
But instead of pain, she felt a gentle touch along one of the wounds on her face. A cool sensation spread across her skin, and the pain vanished.
Her eyes flew open.
The girl raised her finger to her lips, slowly sucking the blood from its tip.
Mara shivered.
What kind of behavior is this?
What made the moment even stranger was the way the monster girl seemed to savor it—closing her black eyes and smiling softly.
Goddess… what is going on?
Mara didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
As she wrestled with her thoughts, the monster girl opened her eerie eyes, looked down at her, and said, "Thank you."
Her voice was hoarse, as though she hadn't spoken in ages.
Then, with surprising gentleness, the girl lifted Mara's weak body and placed her against a nearby tree. It all happened in silence—no sound, no warning—within mere seconds.
The monster girl straightened and turned toward the camp.
A savage expression overtook her face.
A thin red mist began to seep from her body.
Mara's breath caught. She felt, instinctively, that she would die if that mist so much as touched her.
She blinked rapidly and pressed herself further against the tree, wishing she could sink into the bark and disappear.
The monster girl was ready to kill.
A shiver ran down Mara's spine. If she had the strength, she would have screamed. She would have run.
Because she understood now.
These people had captured and abused a monster.
And now—
It was the monster's turn to strike back.