Chapter 6: Disfigured Legs! [Edited]

This is a rewrite of this fanfic chapter 6. I have added more detail, fixed grammar, and much more and the length of the chapter is almost double.

So after you are done reading just answer a simple question at the end!

ENJOY!!!

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"You were saying something…!?"

….

She tried to speak, but the dire situation left her gasping for breath, desperate to cling to life.

Her superhuman strength, which should have been enough to overpower almost anyone, failed her now. Even if every unconscious person around her had joined forces, they wouldn't have stood a chance against her combat skills. And yet, she couldn't break free.

In this otherworld, she had been gifted with extraordinary abilities: incredible healing powers, immense physical strength, and the potential for limitless growth. Her magic, one of the many facets of this boundless potential, allowed her to master any spell as long as she could grasp even the tiniest fragment of its essence. The only true limit was her comprehension.

So why—why was he so strong?

Her mind raced, unable to make sense of the situation. She had thought it was just a minor conflict, a quarrel she could easily resolve. Naturally, she had sided with the injured party—one of them was near death, blood streaming down his face. But now, here she was, strangled by a grip so unrelenting that even her enhanced strength couldn't break free.

"I… I… ry… et… me… o!" she stammered, her words fragmented and incoherent as her air supply dwindled. Her vision blurred, her body weakening as consciousness slipped away.

Madara's hand tightened around the girl's neck, silencing her defiance. She had dared to confront him, and for that, she now dangled helplessly in his grasp.

He didn't understand this world—its customs, its power structures—but one thing was clear: people like her, brave but naïve, often met their end far too soon.

His instincts told him he was right.

But then, a tug on his crimson armor pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced back to see the terrified faces of the children behind him. Their wide eyes reflected fear and confusion as they clung to him, silently pleading for him to stop.

Madara hesitated. He didn't care about their judgment, but he wasn't about to leave them with a memory they couldn't erase. With a reluctant sigh, he loosened his grip and let the girl fall to the ground.

Madara released his grip, and the girl collapsed to the ground, her knees hitting the dirt with a dull thud. For a moment, her face was pale and lifeless, but color began to return as her lungs greedily sucked in air, each breath desperate and frantic, as though she might never have another. Slowly, her strength trickled back, her trembling body trying to recover from the brink of death.

Even as he spared her, Madara's expression betrayed no mercy. The children behind him may have softened his hand, but he was not the type to let a threat walk away unscathed. Allowing someone to live without consequence was an invitation for future trouble, and Madara was never careless.

His lips curved into a sharp, almost mocking smile as his cold eyes bore into the girl. "You have impressive healing magic. To restore that mutt's face from something so unsightly… Truly remarkable." His words dripped with derision, a predator toying with its prey.

The girl's wide eyes stared back at him, her mind spinning wildly. She couldn't comprehend his intent, and her thoughts spiraled into chaos.

What is he saying? Is he planning to kill me after all? Her breathing quickened as the terrifying possibility gnawed at her mind. Am I going to die here—again? Is this second chance at life really ending now?

Then another thought surfaced, trembling and fragile but clinging to a sliver of hope. Or… is he asking me to join him?

It wasn't entirely unfounded. Healing magic of her level was exceedingly rare, something only the most powerful priests at the church could perform. And even then, their services came at a staggering price, inaccessible to most. Her ability was far beyond what ordinary healers could achieve, and this man—this monster—seemed to recognize its value.

Before she could sort through her thoughts, Madara's voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Then you should be able to heal yourself with that… I hope," he said, his tone almost casual.

In an instant, he moved.

With terrifying precision, he stomped down, shattering the bone in her leg.

A sickening crack filled the air, followed by her piercing scream. The pain hit her like a tidal wave, blinding and all-consuming, her body convulsing as the agony overwhelmed her senses.

Her mind, which had been racing with speculation and doubt, shattered under the weight of this new reality. The sharp, unbearable pain silenced every thought, leaving only the sound of her shrieks echoing in the air.

Madara stood over her, his crimson armor catching the light, his expression calm and unbothered.

"Ahhh… it… hu…rts! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" The girl's agonized screams echoed through the air, sharp and relentless, as if the pain itself was trying to claw its way out of her body. Tears streamed down her face, and her entire frame trembled uncontrollably. She had never experienced pain like this—not in this world, and certainly not in her previous one. Her body convulsed with each wave of agony, her mind unable to comprehend the sheer cruelty of her situation.

Madara stood over her, his crimson armor gleaming ominously, his expression as cold and unyielding as stone. He gazed down at her pitiful state without the slightest trace of pity.

"Consider this a warning," he said, his voice calm yet laced with authority. "Think carefully about the consequences before meddling in my affairs again." His words hung heavy in the air, and then he added, "Next time, it won't just be your legs…"

He left the sentence unfinished, the implied threat dangling ominously, inviting her imagination to fill the blanks. The weight of those unsaid words was almost as unbearable as the pain itself.

Without sparing her another glance, Madara turned to the children cowering behind him. "Follow me," he commanded. "We've wasted enough time on these… disfigured weaklings."

His face remained unmoved, his expression unchanging even as the girl's cries of pain filled the air and the blood of the fallen soaked the ground around him. To him, this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

For the girl, however, it was a moment that would haunt her forever.

She had never imagined she would face something so brutal, so merciless, in either of her lives. In her previous world, she had been an honor student, celebrated and admired by her classmates. Popular and respected, she was the kind of person others looked up to. Her days had been filled with laughter and friendship, though she had never really get to experience romance, unlike the typical protagonists in stories she used to read.

She had turned down countless confessions from boys who nervously approached her, trying to win her over. Her heart, however, had been quietly drawn to someone else—a quiet, solitary boy in her class. He wasn't popular or athletic, not the kind of person others noticed, but there was something about him that intrigued her.

It was after one ordinary day at school that her life had taken a sudden, cruel turn. She had been walking home, her thoughts drifting to her quiet classmate, when she stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to change.

The light turned green, and she stepped onto the road, unaware of the drunk truck driver barreling toward her.

In that split second, everything changed.

Before she could even react, someone pushed her out of the way. It was him—the boy she had secretly has a crushed on. He had saved her life, but at the cost of their own. The impact had been immediate and brutal, and in the moment before everything went dark, a bright white light had consumed her vision.

And then, without warning, they were here. One moment, she was bracing for the impact of the truck, and the next, she and the boy who had saved her were standing on an unfamiliar road in an entirely different world.

The boy who had pushed her out of harm's way—the one she had secretly has a crushed on—was now standing/ kneeling on thr road by her side. For a moment, she was too stunned to speak.

And just like that, their lives were irrevocably changed.

It had been a full day since their arrival in this strange, otherworld. The world was vast and unfamiliar, filled with sights, sounds, and creatures neither of them had ever seen. Yet, despite the chaos, it was the boy who remained calm. From the very beginning, he took charge, keeping her safe.

He was the one who first realized they needed information. While she was still trying to come to terms with their sudden transportation, after calming down and accepting that they were in another world, he was already asking questions, observing the people, and piecing together of what little information that can help them.

When they discovered they were penniless, he said leave it to him, he said that he can find some money. He managed to scrounge up just enough money for a room at an inn, a safe place for them to stay while they figured out their next steps.

The inn itself wasn't much—a modest, slightly run-down building on the edge of town—but to her, it felt like a sanctuary. And it was all thanks to him.

It was also him who first discovered the existence of the "Status Window." Through experimentation, he found they could summon a Status Window interface that displayed their abilities and potential. That discovery alone had been a big help, that they might have the power to survive—or even thrive—in this world.

Through all of this, he had been her support. When she was overwhelmed with fear of suddenly dying and the next second in another world, he calmed her down, speaking to her with a quiet confidence that made her believe they might just make it.

When she struggled to accept the impossible reality of their situation, their situation of being in another world, he calmed her.

He had done everything—finding the inn, figuring out how the world worked, keeping her safe.

And now, as they faced this unknown together, she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of guilt. He was doing so much, shouldering the heavy responsibility of their survival, while she had done so little, no a little would be too much she had done nothing except looking good.

That's why, earlier today, she had insisted on taking a stroll through the town. She wanted to do something, anything, to help like help him collect some information from outside. She couldn't just stand by and let him handle everything on his own.

But now, kneeling on the ground in agony, with her leg crushed and her pride in tatters, she wondered if she had made the wrong choice.

The boy who had been her strength might not be here to save her this time. And she had never felt more despair.

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