"You're working yourself too hard, my dear… and it's all because of me. I truly don't know how to express how sorry I am,"
her father said through a fit of coughing. His illness was chronic—no cure, no matter how many kingdoms she searched for a healer or a remedy.
"Father, please don't speak too much. Aren't you the one who taught me to rely on myself? What we're going through—this pain and grief—it won't last forever. Trust me, Father. Your daughter will take back everything that was stolen from us. I promise."
Elon spoke while her eyes lingered on his weakening body. Every day, he looked frailer. His pale skin, the way he barely leaned on the pillow behind him… Her father slowly brushed his hand over her hair.
"Don't push yourself too hard," he whispered. "Do the things that make you happy. You're still so young. You don't need to carry the whole world on your shoulders."
Each word was followed by more violent coughing. Elon didn't want to wear him out further, so she simply nodded and fell silent.
Once she had made sure he'd eaten and taken his pain relievers, she stepped out of his room. Before she could say anything, her sister Marvy chimed in,
"I know, I know! I'll make sure he eats on time. I won't leave his side. Don't worry—he's my father too. Now go to the market. I'll take care of the house,"
she said as she pushed her sister out the door. Elon smiled at her warmly.
"I'll be back soon. Be careful,"
she said, bidding her sister goodbye.
The walk to the market took her about an hour. She took her usual alleyway, but midway through, she spotted the large body of a man lying on the ground. He was bleeding. She knelt to check his pulse and breath.
"Oh no… he's unconscious,"
she whispered—only to feel his fingers grasp her and pull her into his arms.
Everything happened so fast. Her eyes locked with his half-open brown ones, and strands of his long hair brushed against her cheek.
"Help me, and I'll reward you,"
the man said in a voice that made Elon's heart skip. Was this man insane? Why would he pull her into this kind of position?
She swallowed hard, staring at his strong jaw and thick eyebrows that only made his face more striking.
'She's beautiful,'
he thought—right before her slap landed hard across his cheek.
She yanked herself free from his grip.
"You disgusting pervert! Just die already!"
Her dress was stained now because of that lunatic. She stormed off, glancing back at him. He was still lying there.
As she turned the corner, she stopped walking.
"Ugh, what if he really was injured…?"
She walked back—only to find the spot completely empty, just patches of blood remaining.
"Don't worry about it, Elon. Maybe someone else helped him,"
she told herself, shaking her head as she resumed her walk to the market.
Everything seemed normal… until she spotted a group of men chasing someone ahead.
"Stop him! He robbed us!"
they shouted behind the fleeing man, who was cleverly knocking things over to block the path.
"You idiots! You'll never catch me!"
the thief yelled, grinning as he watched the guards trip over the mess. Elon snatched a large stick from a nearby man.
"I'll return it,"
she said as she ran in the direction of the thief, who hadn't noticed her ahead.
She ducked low and aimed for his leg—but he leapt just in time.
What he didn't expect was her next move.
In a blink, she spun and launched a perfect kick into his stomach. He crashed to the ground, groaning, trying to rise—only for Elon to press the stick to his throat.
"Seven years of sword training. You really think I'd let that go to waste? Now don't move."
Her sharp tone made the thief gulp as he stared into her fierce eyes.
"Damn… since when did hot girls know how to fight? People are starting to gather… It's over. I lost,"
he muttered, biting his lip and avoiding her gaze.
"That was a flawless move!"
a young boy exclaimed, and soon the passersby erupted into applause.
"Thank you, miss! This scoundrel stole Princess Rana's crown!"
cried one of the guards. They wore royal uniforms.
"You fools! You couldn't catch one pathetic thief? You don't deserve to be called royal guards,"
said their commander with a glare. Elon removed the stick from the thief's throat and stepped back.
"I just did what had to be done,"
she said, bowing slightly. She returned the stick to its owner with a smile.
While the guards were distracted by their commander's scolding, Elon slipped away into the crowd.
She was already late for her meeting with her men.
Their hideout was at the end of the Strange Goods Alley.
"It's me—Elonora the Phoenix, burning to light up the darkness,"
she announced as she entered the tavern. The bartender nodded and unlocked the hidden door.
Inside, the room was full—ten people seated, others standing. Everyone rose to greet her.
"Is everyone here?"
she asked, tying her hair back.
"Yes, my lady,"
answered a tall man with his face wrapped in bandages. Elonora sat in the chair behind the staircase, scanning each of them.
"It's time to begin the plan. There's no longer any reason for us to act like a secret gang. Don't hide your strengths, or your true selves. The world will know who we are."
---
Meanwhile…
At dawn the next day, Derek had hurried to the palace after bandaging his wounds. The royal court was filled with ministers. Derek was still on one knee, kneeling in loyalty before the forty-something monarch.
"Commander Derek, I didn't summon you here to praise your heroic efforts on the battlefield. As you know, the ruler of the Dark Continent has taken over the southern frontier—and we're the closest kingdom to it. Your task is to monitor all of his movements. Also… the leader of the Skull of Doom Gang has agreed to meet me. You will attend that meeting. Your responsibility is to ensure that no surprise attack reaches this kingdom."
Derek lifted his head. Elon's face flashed in his mind—her voice, her eyes, that night.
'Damn it. I need to find out… was she really the gang leader, or did she just say that to make me drop it?'
He pulled himself out of his thoughts and said firmly,
"Yes, Your Majesty."
---