Taming the Dark Lord - Chapter 47
Chapter 47 – An Unexpected Reunion (2)
Even in his vulnerable state, he still had a menacing aura lingering about him. He was still intimidating as ever even when he was lying down, threatening in any way or form.
Amelia, who was now only a foot away from him, stopped.
He looked sideways and glanced at Amelia. He was obviously not in the best of moods. His sharp gaze made Amelia gulp anxiously, and she wondered if the elf was angry at her.
Amelia hesitatingly squatted down in front of the bushes, and caressed the elf’s silver hair. “What’s the matter? Why are you angry all of a sudden? I will go back once they’re gone, okay?” She said reassuringly, gliding her fingers against his silver locks. Her skin was white, but his hair was a lot paler than her flesh, almost transparent and it was glowing like a white, jade stone.
Alfonso’s face darkened and he glanced at her, prodding her to continue.
Amelia understood right away what he wanted to hear. “I forgot to give you directions and that was my mistake. I apologize for leaving you out here all alone in the forest. I will make it up to you, I swear. Please don’t be mad at me anymore. Okay?”
Amelia said endearingly, trying to look cute to earn the elf’s forgiveness. It’s safe to say that it worked since the elf was taken aback for a few seconds. He glanced at her, blinking his eyes and abruptly turned around in disgust, his silver hair billowed in the wind, revealing his blushing, pointed ears.
Amelia stared at the elf long enough to notice the little redness on his honey-colored skin, and it looked like a smeared strawberry jam on top of a chocolate pudding.
Thinking about food made Amelia’s mouth water.
Amelia tore her gaze away from the elf’s ear and shook his shoulder with her hand, whispering. “I take it that you agree with what I said, am I right? I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
The elf rolled his eyes in response.
Amelia smiled at the unspoken understanding. Any ferocious beast that was just tamed would of course exhibit some sort of attitude. Understandable.
Without the elf having to say anything, Amelia managed to figure him out on her own. She didn’t force him to speak because if she did, she would surely be on the receiving end of his wrath that was just beneath the surface.
Amelia got up and left the bush. “It was just an ordinary baby animal. Its parents should be around here somewhere. Let’s go now, shall we?” She said.
The crowd nodded in agreement.
Before they completely left the premises, Amelia discreetly made a mark on a tree trunk, scratching a pattern onto the lumber so she could go find the place when she comes tomorrow.
The forest that was brimming with life now fell into a steady silence.
When the group had finally left, a tentacle leapt out the bush, crawling to the tree as it revealed a set of pointed teeth, sinking its fangs onto the mark, deepening it with a resonating hiss.
Amelia and her group walked towards the direction the little boy pointed at, and they found a small wooden house a few meters away.
The house was small, and a long string was stretched out on two ends where dried salted fish and vegetables were hung up to dry.
Various crops were planted on the soil in front of the house. And a wet, muddy hoe was lying on the ground, its hilt also dirtied with soil like someone dropped it while working on the crops.
“Do people really live here?” Rita said, looking at the sign of life that was evident in the place. “But there are so many beasts and monsters around here.”
Debra looked around, raising her eyebrows in confusion. “Be careful, everyone. Let’s not let our guards down.”
Everyone was outside, not exactly fond of entering the house that was situated in the middle of the forest. The little boy in Rita’s arm cried out suddenly, shouting for his sister and Rita abruptly shushed him. He closed his mouth, lips quivering into a pout with tears brimming into his eyes.
“Who are you?”
A girl’s voice sounded behind them.
Everyone turned their heads, and they saw a plainly dressed peasant woman with grime smeared across both of her cheeks. A pile of wild fruits was bunched on her arms. She tilted her head as if she wasn’t sure what she was looking at.
A wind blew, and a strand of bright red hair slipped from her turban.
Rita’s eyes widened, and she pointed at her with an accusing finger. “Witch! It’s her! The witch who ran away!”
The little boy in Rita’s arm wailed noisily. He opened his root-looking arms out, making grabby hands towards the peasant woman. “Sister, why are they bullying you?!”