“So you expect me,” the Guild Leader said slowly, disbelief sharpening every word, “to heal a girl who intended to kill me—after you stabbed her and inflicted a wound severe enough to threaten her life?”

  Marecilla swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight, as if her voice might break before it could escape.

  “Yes… my lady,” she said, bowing her head. “I beg you. Please help me. I can’t allow her story to end like this.”

  The woman’s gaze narrowed, piercing and calculating.

  “And why,” she asked coldly, “do you care so deeply for the Princess of Assassination, new recruit Marecilla?”

  A pause—heavy, suspicious.

  “Don’t you find your behavior… troubling?”

  Marecilla’s hands clenched at her sides. Her heart pounded violently, every beat echoing with memories she had buried for years.

  “…The truth is—” she hesitated, then exhaled shakily. “Alright. I’ll tell you everything. But only if you promise this will never leave this room.”

  Silence followed. Permission, unspoken.

  “In reality,” Marecilla continued, her voice trembling despite her effort to remain composed, “Soma— I mean, the Princess of Assassination— and I have been friends since we were children. She disappeared from my life without a word. No farewell. No explanation.”

  Her eyes darkened.

  “When I saw her again… I thought it was fate giving me one chance to talk. To understand.”

  Her lips quivered.

  “But instead of fighting me—she chose to accept my strike. Willingly.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  A sharp breath escaped her.

  “That’s why I feel guilty. That’s why I can’t forgive myself.”

  Her knees nearly buckled as she lowered herself.

  “So please,” she whispered, voice breaking completely, “I beg you… save her before it’s too late.”

  For a long moment, the Guild Leader said nothing.

  Then—she turned away.

  After several heavy breaths, she spoke again.

  “I’ll help.”

  Not out of mercy.

  But because, despite herself, she had grown attached to Marecilla—had seen something painfully sincere within the young recruit that the others lacked.

  They moved quickly.

  When the Guild Leader entered Marecilla’s room, the sight before her stopped her cold.

  A young woman lay motionless on the bed. Beautiful—yet terrifyingly pale. Her skin had lost its warmth, her lips nearly colorless. Each breath she took was shallow, fragile, as though life itself was reluctant to stay.

  Blood soaked the sheets beneath her, dark and unforgiving. The wound refused to close, bleeding as if it meant to drain her completely.

  The Guild Leader rushed forward, pressing her fingers to Soma’s wrist.

  A pulse.

  Weak.

  Fading.

  Death was close—far too close.

  Her expression hardened.

  “Bring me everything I ask for,” she ordered. “Now.”

  The room descended into chaos.

  Blood stained the floor. Tools clattered. Hands trembled. Soma’s heartbeat slowed with terrifying certainty, each second stretching Marecilla’s fear to its limit.

  She stood frozen, watching the girl she once laughed with now fight silently for her life.

  Please… don’t die.

  Somehow—against the odds—the bleeding slowed. The wound closed under the Guild Leader’s skill.

  But Soma did not wake.

  She had lost too much blood.

  When it was over, Marecilla collapsed onto the floor, her legs giving out beneath her. She crawled to the bedside and took Soma’s hand.

  It was cold.

  Too cold.

  Tears streamed down her face, dropping onto their intertwined fingers.

  “You’re alive…” she whispered, a broken smile forming through sobs. “You’re alive…”

  The Guild Leader’s voice cut gently through the moment.

  “Marecilla,” she said quietly. “We need to talk.”

  Marecilla looked up, dread pooling in her chest.

  “I’ll be honest with you,” the woman continued. “Your friend—Soma—has suffered far more than this wound suggests. While treating her, I found countless injuries. Cuts. Scratches. Most of them recent.”

  Marecilla’s breath hitched.

  “And that’s not all,” the Guild Leader added, her tone grave. “There are clear signs of severe poisoning throughout her body.”

  Silence crushed the room.

  “Tell me,” she asked slowly, watching Marecilla’s face crumble,

  “do you truly believe your friend is alright?”

  Marecilla tightened her grip on Soma’s hand, as if letting go would mean losing her forever.

  She already knew the answer.