The Abused is The Abuser in Another World

Chapter 14: Rescue at Grimbark

With the Duke leading the way, Noir, Lyralei, and Thalor cautiously moved through the hidden passages of the old house. The walls were lined with flickering torches, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance with malice. The deeper they went, the more they could hear faint cries and muffled sobs—the unmistakable sounds of prisoners.

Lyralei's keen senses caught movement ahead. "I see them," she whispered, her bright green eyes narrowing with focus. "The elves... they're in cages." She was composed, her voice steady despite the rising tension. Her calm demeanor revealed years of disciplined training as a hunter.

Thalor's grip on his bow tightened, anger flashing in his deep blue eyes, though his face remained stoic. "Let's end this quickly," he growled, his voice carrying a quiet but undeniable resolve. His methodical nature took over, and his mind was already calculating their next moves.

Noir, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, turned to the Duke. "Open the cages," he ordered, pressing the cold blade of The Grimreaper against the Duke's back. His tone was steady, but there was a dangerous edge to his voice, a warning that the Duke could not ignore. Noir's vengeful nature simmered beneath the surface, but he held his fury in check, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The Duke, his face pale and trembling, obeyed, fumbling with a set of keys. He opened the first cage, and an elf stumbled out, her face bruised, her eyes filled with fear and confusion. As more elves were released, Lyralei and Thalor moved swiftly. Lyralei's silver-white hair flowed behind her as she guided the freed elves to safety with a calm yet authoritative tone.

"You're safe now," she whispered, her words gentle yet firm, placing a comforting hand on each elf's shoulder. "We'll get you out of here."

Thalor, his movements smooth and deliberate, ensured none of the elves were harmed as they passed. His deep voice carried a reassuring tone despite his outwardly reserved demeanor. "Stay close to us," he urged, his hand never far from his bow, always prepared to protect those in his care.

Suddenly, the Duke, sensing an opportunity, tried to make a break for it. But Thalor, ever the precise archer, acted faster. With a swift motion, he released an arrow that pierced the Duke's leg, pinning him to the ground. The Duke let out a scream of pain as he collapsed, writhing in agony.

"You're not going anywhere," Thalor said coldly, his face betraying none of the fury burning within him. His words were sharp, each syllable weighed with the patience of a hunter who had waited for the right moment to strike.

Lyralei stepped forward, her face a mask of fury. Her usually serene expression hardened as she stood over the Duke. "You will pay for what you've done," she spat, drawing her blade. "You have stolen, abused, and violated our people. There will be no mercy." Her voice was steady, but the venom in her words was unmistakable. Her compassion for her people had turned into righteous fury.

Without hesitation, she plunged her blade into the Duke's stomach, twisting it with a vicious snarl. The Duke's eyes widened in shock, a gurgled cry escaping his lips as he clutched at the wound.

Thalor followed suit, his movements deliberate and measured. His cold silence reflected the gravity of the moment. He drove his dagger into the Duke's chest, his voice low and filled with quiet wrath. "For every cry, every tear, every soul you have tormented," he hissed, his usual calm demeanor breaking under the weight of his fury.

The Duke convulsed, choking on his own blood, as the two elves delivered upon him the pain he had caused so many. His screams echoed off the cold stone walls, a fitting end for the cruelty he had wrought.