Brandon's water whip froze in mid-air.
His sadistic grin, full of confidence just monts ago, stiffened—
Then—
He dropped to his knees.
His chest tightened. His vision blurred.
Then—blood spilled from his lips.
A deep, wracking cough shook his body.
Confusion flickered in his eyes.What was happening? He was winning. He was about to end it.
And yet—his body refused to move.
He turned his gaze to the Chief Priest.
The old man was coughing blood too. His once smug expression had crumbled into horror.
And then—
A laughter rang out.
A soft, almost seductive chuckle—
One that sent a chill down Brandon's spine. Slowly, he turned his head.
And there she was.
Rihanna.
She walked toward them with a sadistic smile, her hips swaying with predatory grace—
Like a cat toying with its prey.
Her dark eyes glead as she stopped before them, crossing her arms.
"You're confused, aren't you?" she mused, her voice laced with amusent.
Brandon's breathing hitched. Even with the way his body felt heavy and sluggish, he forced his gaze down—
And then—he saw it. His own body was reacting.
His skin was flushed, his pulse racing—
Not from battle—But from sothing else.
His stomach twisted.
"Damn it…" he hissed.
Rihanna's smile widened.
"My sweat carries natural pheromones," she revealed, tilting her head. "A gift from my cardinal sin of Lust."
Brandon's jaw clenched.
She continued, her voice teasing but edged with cruelty:
"It's slow in open spaces, which is why it takes ti."
She gestured toward him and the Chief Priest.
"But after a long fight? After all the sweating and heavy breathing?"
She leaned in slightly.
"It takes full effect."
Brandon's fingers twitched as he struggled—
But his body refused to move.
Because now—She had full control.
His eyes darkened as he realized why Rihanna's na was spoken in fear among pirates.
She wasn't just strong.
She was cunning. And he had walked right into her trap. Even though he had dominated the battlefield only minutes ago, he was now prey.
The thought itself was humiliating. He had been foolished and battle hungry.
He assud the Chief priest was his only enemy, but it was unfortunately not so.
Brandon clenched his teeth.
"If you lay a hand on —" he forced out, his voice strained, "the Holy Church will hunt you to the ends of the earth!"
But Rihanna only rolled her eyes.
"Please. You're not my target." She stepped past him—
And toward the fallen Chief Priest.
Her eyes glowed with satisfaction.
"Today is my lucky day."
The Chief Priest, still groaning in pain, looked up with dazed, fearful eyes.
Rihanna crouched beside him, her fingers tracing the air as if savoring the mont.
"You see, I always study my prey."
Her voice was almost playful—but the look in her eyes was ruthless.
"Most wouldn't notice it, but I did. That movent technique you used earlier—"
She smirked.
"It wasn't human."
Brandon's breath hitched.
The Chief Priest's eyes widened.
Rihanna leaned closer, her voice turning into a whisper—
"You learned it from an Elf, didn't you?"
The Chief Priest stiffened.
A sharp, predatory gleam flickered in Rihanna's gaze.
Elves were akin to the west things to roam the earth. After the war a thousand years ago, no one liked them very much.
And of course, their remaining forces hunted all the remaining hiding elves.
There was also that information that Chiron had been searching for an elf on this island. Surely, it could not all be a coincidence.
After all, even in the words of a mad man, there was so truths.
But these were not even the words of a mad man.
"The Holy Church and the Zodiac families both know the rumors…"
Rihanna's smile deepened.
"An Elf is hiding sowhere in these parts."
She slowly ran her fingers over her lips, tilting her head.
"And you… you definitely know where they are."
The Chief Priest's throat bobbed.
Rihanna's eyes darkened with cruel amusent.
"So… why don't you be a good little priest—"
She leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing his ear.
"And tell exactly where to find them?"
Rihanna moved without hesitation.
Her fingers dug into the open wound of the Chief Priest's mutilated shoulder—
"GURK—!"
The old man let out a strangled, gurgling scream, his body convulsing as Rihanna's digits sank deep into the exposed muscle.
Wet. Sticky. Pulsing.
Her fingers pressed against raw, shredded tendons, each touch sending a wet squelch through the air.
She could feel the heat of his blood, the way the torn flesh twitched beneath her grip—
And she squeezed.
"GHHRAAAAGH!"
The Chief Priest's body buckled as agony ripped through him.
His breath ca in shuddering gasps, his eyes rolling back from the sheer intensity of it.
Rihanna remained impassive.
Her face held no pity. No hesitation.
She simply tightened her grip—
Letting her nails scrape against the exposed bone.
The wet, squelching sounds of her fingers twisting the tissue filled the air.
Blood bubbled from the old man's lips.
"Are you ready to talk?" she asked coldly. His mouth opened, his entire body trembling—
But before he could speak—
A sharp, gut-twisting instinct flared in Rihanna's mind.
Danger.
She jumped back—instinctively.
And just in ti—
Because a crimson blade sliced cleanly through the space where her neck had been.
Instead, the one who took the hit was—
"GHHHK—!"
The Chief Priest.
His head flew into the air.
And as it did—
A voice, smooth yet brimming with amusent, echoed through the battlefield.
"I'll be taking that."
A young man landed gracefully on the ground.
In his hand—
The severed head of the priest, its face still frozen in shock.
The air shifted.
The moons above cast their glow upon him—
Revealing his dangerous elegance.
His features were sharp, hauntingly refined, exuding a beauty that felt almost unnatural.
His skin—pale, flawless—
Yet carrying an eerie undertone that made it all the more striking.
His eyes were deep, brimming with an untad darkness, but irresistibly captivating.
A twisted charisma clung to him, like a king of ghosts standing in the moonlight.
Even Brandon, as wild and powerful as he was, could not compare to this man's sheer presence.
He was both alluring and terrifying.
A devil draped in mortal flesh.
And then—
He lifted the severed head above his own.
The blood poured down, washing over his face.
The rich, crimson liquid ran down his lips, his jaw, his throat—
And then—
He smiled.
A slow, pleased smile.
And then—
He spoke.
"Refreshing... So that's it."
The words were soft. Almost as if spoken to himself.
Yet they carried a weight—
One that sent a cold chill through all who heard them.
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