Found

"Mmmm, I hate this..." Taelia groans, dragging her feet as she forces herself to walk, her ginger hair whipping against her face with each gust of wind, an annoying reminder of her discomfort. Beside her, Lúthien stretches, embodying the vigor that Taelia so glaringly lacks. "You're so lazy, Tae. Try to enjoy this; there's no point in complaining," she chides, her gaze wandering the surroundings, lost in thought. 'I wonder if that human is okay. He is the prince of the great empire, but why did he go off on his own?' she ponders but decides to shelve her curiosity for the time being.

"Saelin is west of us," Ardalos announces, his voice a soothing balm in the crisp forest air. At his words, two birds—locked in their own squabble—cease their bickering and, with a final disdainful glance at one another, land on his shoulders. One is bright blue, adorned with white and black lines that trace elegantly from its eyes down to its chest; the other, a deep purple, nearly black in the shade. Lúthien observes the scene with a resigned sigh. 'Seriously, those birds are always fighting each other, and he just watches, laughing inside,' she thinks, a hint of amusement tingeing her internal monologue.

Just as Lúthien is about to head west, Taelia, with an exaggerated yawn, grabs her arm, her plea laden with exhaustion. "No, please... just one day without her," she begs, the very picture of weariness. Ardalos, the mischief-maker, leans in close to Taelia, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Oh dear, you don't want to see your love?" he whispers, eliciting a deeper slouch from Taelia as she deflects. "I just want one day, one day without her treating me like a damn princess," she grumbles, running a hand through her tousled hair before trudging forward.

Turning to Ardalos, she fires back a question of her own. "And you, when are you going to marry one of the many girls that ask you out every week?" she retorts, a playful spark in her tired eyes. Ardalos, unfazed, watches as the birds take flight from his shoulder, his attention momentarily captured by the spectacle of nature. "Ah... I can't stand relationships. I'd rather be alone," he muses, holding two battling bugs—a centipede and a praying mantis—in his hands, his interest in their conflict unfazed by Taelia's teasing.

All three of them exhale simultaneously, their breaths syncing perfectly as they face the new challenge. "Why..." Taelia groans, covering her face with her hands as she fights back tears, overwhelmed yet again by the daunting reality they face. "Come on, it's only one guy; no need to make a fuss over it. Ardalos and I will handle it," Lúthien asserts, her confidence unshaken despite the impending threat.

Ardalos, ever the enigmatic observer, hums thoughtfully, a hint of intrigue lacing his tone. "This is going to be interesting," he muses, separating the dueling insects with a gentle touch before flicking them away. 'He's not hiding his presence; he's confident he'll beat us,' he assesses, casting a speculative glance upwards. The two birds, sharing one last moment of mutual disdain, flit into the trees, sensing the growing tension.

With a calm demeanor, Lúthien tilts her head and rubs her shoulders, joints popping in readiness. "Are you sure you don't want to join?" she inquires, a subtle challenge in her gaze directed at Taelia. However, Taelia merely lies back on the grass, closing her eyes with a groan of pleasure, embracing the tickling sensation against her skin. "No way," she murmurs contentedly, choosing blissful ignorance over the prospect of conflict.

Lúthien lets out a sigh, a mix of disappointment and nostalgia. "What happened to you? You used to be as strong as me, even stronger at times, competing against me every chance you got," she laments, reminiscing about their past rivalries. Taelia, stretching lazily, responds with a wistful tone, "Mmm... those days are over. Back then, I wanted to be stronger than you, but now I just want to sleep in peace."

The moment of reflection is shattered by approaching footsteps, pulling both Lúthien and Ardalos's attention forward. Taelia, on the other hand, simply closes her eyes tighter, refusing to acknowledge the looming threat. "Good, you didn't run away like a bunch of cowards," a husky, calm voice announces. Pushing a tree aside with astonishing ease, a figure appears before them: Ri, his dark blue eyes scanning the group with a curious intensity. 'A demi-human? He's either part wild dog or part wolf. I didn't think we'd encounter a demi-human criminal here,' Lúthien thinks, assessing their unexpected adversary.

Ri's gaze settles on Lúthien, a gleam of recognition flashing through his eyes. "You're the one, huh," he remarks nonchalantly, idly cleaning his teeth. His demeanor shifts as he senses Lúthien's readiness, a smirk spreading across his face. "But this feeling... Mmmm, you want to fight me? Great," he declares, the prospect of a battle bringing a spark of excitement to his eyes.

"You can't kill them," a voice interjects just before chaos unfolds—a punch thrown with such force that the surrounding trees quiver in its wake. Nia, with an agility that belies her whimsical demeanor, twists her body, narrowly evading the attack. "Hehehehehe, you missed~ I want to have fun~," she sings out, a trace of malice shimmering beneath her playful exterior as she licks her lips, eyeing the trio with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"Stay out of this, crazy woman. I'm not stupid; I won't kill her," Ri retorts with a scowl, his patience wearing thin. Undeterred, Nia launches herself under Ri, aiming a swift kick at his legs to throw him off balance. "Be good, doggy, and stay back~," she taunts, her voice dripping with mockery. But Ri, unfazed by her antics, seizes Nia by her long hair in a quick, reflexive movement, hurling her over his shoulder with surprising ease. "Back off, woman," he growls, his tone brooking no argument.

As Nia sails through the air, she protests, "Ouch, don't touch the hair," her voice a blend of annoyance and surprise. Mid-air, she executes a graceful flip, landing silently beside the man with no name. She attempts to pounce on him, seeking solace and vengeance in one fell swoop. "H-he hurt me, please help me teach him a lesson~," she pleads, only to find herself inexplicably trapped within the confines of a tree. "Huh? When did I get here?" she mumbles, bewildered, as she wriggles and struggles, her movements futile. 'He's strengthening it with his mana,' she realizes, her frustration mounting with each failed attempt to free herself. "Ahh! Why would you do this to me~ Please let me out~," she wails, her pleas echoing through the forest.

Meanwhile, Ri, dismissing Nia's theatrics with a disdainful "Tsk, forget about her," advances towards Lúthien with a determined stride. Lúthien, sensing the escalating tension, retreats slightly, her instincts on high alert. 'This is odd... I can't sense those two in the back. None of them look weak,' she assesses, her mind racing as she prepares for what's to come. She clenches her fist coating herself in mana, "Back off," she commands with an icy voice. 

Unfazed by the unfolding events, Ri begins to pop his joints, an audible sign of his readiness. "I won't use full power. Show me what elves are capable of," he challenges, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips, his demeanor relaxed yet expectant.

"With pleasure," Ardalos responds, his voice maintaining its soothing cadence even as he conjures his next move. With a graceful flick of his fingers, roots erupt from the ground, their growth rampant and aggressive. They intertwine and build upon one another, ultimately forming two large humanoid figures that tower imposingly. Ri watches, seemingly unimpressed, as the wooden giants advance towards him, their fists raised in aggression.

The tree figures unleash a barrage of punches, but Ri remains stoic, the impact seemingly insignificant against his formidable stance. "How predictable," he taunts, as one of the figures morphs its arm into a wooden spike aimed directly at him. With a swift motion, Ri grasps the wooden limb, his grip unyielding. "Predictable indeed," he murmurs as he effortlessly snaps the arm, the fractured roots tumbling onto him, attempting to ensnare him in their wooden grasp.

Meanwhile, Lúthien, seizing the moment of distraction, dashes towards Ri with a determination fueled by elven pride. She exhales deeply and, channeling her energy, lands a punch directly on his face. Ri breaks free from the root's constraints with a forceful punch into the air, creating a shockwave that sends Lúthien stumbling backward.

"Why does it always hurt?" Ri mutters, a mix of confusion and curiosity lacing his words as he spits out a drop of blood. He scratches his head, pondering the anomaly. "I don't get it. Are elven arts blessed by nature or something? Why the hell can I feel it?" he questions, his curiosity piqued as he rubs his chin thoughtfully. 'Hmm... a punch ten times stronger than that wouldn't hurt me, so why is it that when elvish arts are mixed in, I take damage?' he wonders internally, his thoughts a whirlwind of speculation and intrigue, completely oblivious to the other tree figure that continues its assault, its punches now mere background noise to his introspection.

'There's no way he took no damage...' Lúthien grunts internally, observing the effects of her punch while nursing her trembling hand, the physical toll evident on her face.

"Hey Ardalos, I think you should bring one out," she suggests, glancing towards her companion with a mixture of hope and urgency. Ardalos merely smiles, an air of mystery swirling around him. "This is a bit strange, isn't it?" he muses aloud, lifting his hand to cast a magic circle that vividly depicts the image of a gate. From this mystical portal, a large, imposing purple snake slithers out, its presence commanding and yet restrained. Ardalos affectionately pats its head, whispering, "Be careful."

Ri watches the scene unfold, his analytical mind categorizing the new development: 'A summoner... no, a beast tamer,' he concludes, filing the information away. Meanwhile, Nia, still ensnared in the tree, wiggles and whines, "I want to play with the snake~" her voice laced with a childlike longing.

Everyone ignores Nia's pleas, Ardalos raises his hand, and roots shoot up from the earth, sprouting leaves and creating a dense, vegetative labyrinth. Both the snake and Lúthien navigate the foliage with practiced ease, their movements harmonious yet deliberate. Ri, unfazed by the burgeoning flora, stands his ground, his senses heightened, his ears twitching in anticipation.

As the snake emerges, striking towards him, Ri meets its tail with an outstretched hand, an air of dismissal in his gesture. "Seriously, is this—" he begins, only to halt mid-sentence, a newfound respect kindling in his eyes as he's pushed back. 'The snake is getting stronger? Hmm... I see, the elf boy is constantly feeding it mana. But the fact that it hasn't exploded means this snake has been forcefully weakened by a high-ranking mage,' he deduces, grasping the creature's tail and using it to shatter the encroaching wooden barriers.

"You're not her," he states, directing his gaze upwards, where Taelia, reluctant yet resolute, descends with her sword aimed directly at him, "Ugh... I know, no need to rub it in." As the blade makes contact, Ri catches it, the impact resonating through the forest, his hand bleeding slightly. "Elven swordsmanship..." he murmurs, a hint of acknowledgment in his tone before he effortlessly breaks the sword. He reaches out to grasp Taelia, but a sudden root wraps around her foot, pulling her to safety.

'Why, just why does it hurt me?' Ri ponders, his confusion palpable, 'What special thing do elves have that allows them to hurt me? I have battled countless elves; yet, regardless of their apparent weakness, each has the capacity to inflict pain upon me. Why? How?' His thoughts are abruptly interrupted as Lúthien reappears behind him. "Zoning out on your opponent is disrespectful," she chides before landing a solid punch on his neck.