Marcus spun around on his heel.

His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

Elowen stood in the doorway.

Her smile was wide and twisted. It was a look of pure, unadulterated malice.

She held a whip in her right hand. It was made of braided leather and tipped with silver barbs.

She pulled her arm back. The muscles in her shoulder tensed and she swung.

It was a horizontal strike. It was aimed directly at Marcus's face.

The movement was a blur of motion.

Marcus saw death coming.

He had no weapon. He had no time to dodge.

His instincts screamed at him.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight. He threw both arms up in front of his face.

It was a futile gesture. A reflex of a desperate man.

He waited for the silver barbs to tear into his flesh.

He waited for the pain.

The air hissed as the whip sliced through it.

Thwack.

The sound was loud and sharp.

It sounded like leather hitting solid stone.

Marcus flinched. But there was no pain.

He held his breath. He waited for a second strike.

Nothing happened.

Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his eyes.

He lowered his arms just a fraction.

A barrier hovered in the air in front of him.

It was a translucent sheet of energy. It looked like light green glass.

It was thin and curved.

The whip had struck the center of the barrier. It had bounced off harmlessly.

Marcus stared at the floating shield. His mouth hung open slightly.

He blinked in confusion.

"What..." he whispered.

He looked down at his own hands. Had he done that?

No. That was impossible. He had zero magical aptitude.

Elowen stepped back. Her sadistic smile faltered.

A frown creased her smooth forehead.

She looked at the shield. Then she looked at Marcus.

"Magic?" she muttered. Her voice was laced with disbelief. "He can use magic?"

She studied him closely.

Marcus still looked bewildered. He was staring at the green glass with the same confusion she felt.

His posture was defensive. His fear was genuine.

Elowen narrowed her eyes. Her mind worked quickly.

'No,' she thought. 'It wasn't him.'

A mage would not look surprised by their own spell. A mage would be preparing a counter-attack.

This guy was just a terrified slave.

Elowen shifted her gaze.

She shifted her gaze to her left and looked at the little girl standing.

The girl in the white dress stood perfectly still.

Her expression was flat. Her eyes were empty black pools.

She looked bored.

She looked as if a deadly whip attack was as interesting as watching paint dry.

Elowen's eyes widened. The realization hit her.

The nonchalance gave it away.

Only someone with power could be that calm in the face of violence.

'It is her,' Elowen deduced. 'The little mute.'

She stared at the girl. Curiosity bubbled up inside her.

Who was this child?

She had been sold by common bandits. She had been thrown in a dungeon with the trash.

Yet she cast instant defensive magic without a chant. And she did it without moving a muscle.

'Why is she here?' Elowen wondered. 'How was she even captured?'

A mage of this caliber should have incinerated those bandits.

Elowen's frown slowly began to invert.

The corners of her mouth twitched upward.

The curiosity turned into something darker. It turned into excitement.

A challenge.

Breaking a common slave was boring. It was too easy.

But breaking a prodigy? Breaking a noble child with secret power?

That was a rare delicacy.

Her sadistic smile returned. It was wider than before. It showed her teeth.

'I need to subdue her first,' Elowen thought.

She imagined the girl's flat expression crumbling. She imagined tears streaming from those empty eyes.

'What face will she make when I crush her?' Elowen mused.

'HAHAHAHAHA!'

She laughed internally. It was a manic, chaotic sound in her own mind.

The anticipation made her fingers tingle. She gripped the handle of her whip tighter.

"Well, well," Elowen said aloud. Her voice dripped with false sweetness.

She took a step forward. The leather of her boots creaked on the stone floor.

"Casting such strong magic at such a young age," she cooed. "You are really talented."

She tilted her head to the side. She looked like a bird examining a worm.

"Are you a noble?" Elowen asked. "Or perhaps the disciple of a strong mage?"

The little girl did not answer. She merely blinked.

Elowen didn't care about the answer. But the mystery only added to the flavor.

"I have never had a noble pet before," Elowen whispered. Her eyes gleamed. "It will be so much fun seeing you cry."

She flicked her wrist. The whip uncoiled on the floor like a snake.

She raised her arm and prepared to strike again.

This time, she would not aim for the man. Her target was the little girl

The little girl finally moved.

She did not raise her hands. She did not take a combat stance.

She simply turned her head slightly toward Marcus.

Her lips did not move. But her voice echoed clearly in Marcus's mind.

'Take the dragon girl,' the voice ordered. 'And run.'

Marcus jolted. He looked at the little girl.

"Run?" he whispered.

He looked behind him.

The dragon girl was pressed into the corner of the room.

She was hugging her knees. Her body shook violently.

She was watching Elowen with wide, terrified eyes. She looked ready to faint.

Marcus looked back at Elowen.

The noblewoman's attention was fixed entirely on the little girl. She had forgotten Marcus existed.

This was their chance.

But could he leave?

Elowen lunged forward.

"Let us see how long you last!" she shrieked.

Her arm snapped forward.

The whip cracked through the air.

It was a vertical strike this time. It was fast. Vicious.

The little girl did not flinch.

A small, green shield appeared instantly above her head.

Snap.

The whip hit the shield and recoiled.

Elowen did not stop. She spun on her heel.

She lashed out again. A side swipe.

Another shield materialized to the left.

Thwack.

Elowen gritted her teeth. She increased her speed.

She rained blows down on the girl.

Left. Right. Overhead. Diagonal.

Each strike was met with a precise, instant barrier.

The sound of leather hitting magic filled the room.

Clang. Clang. Snap. Thud.

Marcus watched in awe.

The little girl stood in the center of the storm. She didn't move her feet.

She looked like she was swatting away flies.

Elowen's face flushed red. Her breathing grew heavy.

"Annoying brat!" Elowen yelled.

She channeled her mana.

A blue light enveloped the whip. It hummed with power.

The air around the whip distorted.

"Try blocking this!" Elowen screamed.

She put her entire body weight into the swing.

The mana-infused whip slashed through the air. It left a trail of blue light.

It struck the green shield.

THWACK!

The impact was heavy. A shockwave rippled through the room.

Tools on the walls rattled.

The green shield cracked. But... it held.

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