Giena Goes Berserk
"Eek…?!"
A shrill scream echoed briefly through the silent street, but no one scolded the one who let it out. No, they couldn't. Dust still lingered in the air near one smooth, even section of the Merchant Guild's outer wall. The cause was simple. Something had smashed into the wall hard enough to crack it and embed itself there.
People fell silent upon spotting that "something" with their own eyes. It was a burly, self-proclaimed adventurer woman, twisted into an unnatural position against the wall.
In this frozen moment, as if everyone had been hit by a group petrification spell, only one person—no, one elf—moved indifferently.
Swish.
People near Giena's path backed away excessively, as if they didn't need to. Unhindered by anyone, she reached the embedded woman in seconds and extended her pale, beautifully muscled arm.
Plop.
The woman, stuck like a wall mural, was yanked out by her hair. Since the woman was much larger, she dangled limply, knees bent like she was groveling.
Giena's other hand moved.
Smack—!!
The sharp sound made my body twitch involuntarily, and something splattered across the ground.
Smack, smack, smack—!!
Giena's hand moved at a steady rhythm, snapping the unconscious woman's head side to side with each strike. Dark red sprays dotted the ground and surroundings. It looked like she might actually kill her—no mercy in those blows.
Even knowing that, no one dared step up first. How do you talk down someone who just slammed a person into a wall?
"That bitch is gonna cause real trouble if she keeps going."
Siron's uneasy mutter relaxed my tensed body like magic. I glanced at her face. She was frowning slightly at Giena's relentless slapping, looking mildly annoyed. Nothing else.
"What the fuck's wrong with that crazy bitch, flipping out like this…? Hey!! You psycho bow freak!!"
Siron clicked her tongue and called out, but Giena didn't react—like she hadn't heard a thing—and kept slapping the barely-alive adventurer woman's cheeks. They were already raw and painted red, skin peeling.
"Fuckin' hell."
Siron started forward, then hesitated and looked back at me.
"This is nuts… Can't just leave her, but dragging her along? Sketchy as hell."
Only then did I recall the situation. We'd all been crushed by the surprise and Giena's intensity, frozen solid. But just steps away, unknown women were tangled up, and behind them, a few who looked like the big woman's subordinates stood in a wall-like line, shielding soldiers.
A crowd had gathered at the Merchant Guild entrance and street from the sudden commotion.
Crack—!!
Scanning around, a heavy, ominous thud in my ear snapped my head back to Giena. A fistful of hair dangled from the hand gripping the woman's scalp. The woman had collapsed, dead to the world. Giena's strength must've ripped the hair right out.
That chilled me even more. How hard do you have to slap to tear out a handful of hair, not just a few strands?
My daze didn't last. Seeing Giena reach for the fallen woman again, I panicked and bolted forward. She looked ready to kill—no choice but to move. She already seemed half-dead, but even in her frenzy, I couldn't imagine Giena beating a corpse.
"You idiot!!"
As I dashed through the stunned crowd, Siron yelled from behind and chased me. She caught up quick, grabbing my hand.
"Hey!! Can't you see her eyes are fuckin' rolled back? Goddamn it. Why's a guy like you so goddamn fearless?!"
"No, Siron, sorry, let go for a sec. Giena flipped out over her bow at the guild once before—I handled it."
"…You did?"
"Yeah, me. Whoa, Siron, seriously— she's gonna kill someone."
"Looks dead already."
"Tch!!"
"No… fuck…!!"
Siron scowled hard but released my hand. I sprinted to Giena again, Siron hot on my heels.
Close enough now, I called out just in case.
"Giena!"
No response. She was hoisting the woman's hair again.
I'd thought she was just bow-obsessed at the guild—elf thing—but today showed that was restrained. Back then, she'd at least pretend to listen. Now? Calls bounced off her like she was deaf.
A few more steps, and I'd be in arm's reach. Honestly, I was shitting bricks. At the guild, bow-crazed Giena had grabbed my collar, lifted me near-death, and shaken me like a ragdoll. That was when she half-heard me. Now? Who knows what she'd do. Goosebumps crawled up my spine.
Worrying didn't stop my legs—they carried me right up. Eyes squeezed shut, I smacked down on her blood-slick palm as it rose again.
Smack—!!
"Ngh…!!"
"Ow, shit…."
"Hic…."
"Ugh…."
A thick, meaty smack rang out. Giena hunched with a short groan, echoed by Siron behind me and onlookers' pained noises.
She curled but still clutched the hair. I spread my palm wide and slapped her insolent tit again.
"Kuh…!!"
Second tit-slap got a agonized yelp; she dropped the hair. I yanked her hand, pulling her off-balance. Bent double, she toppled into my arms, face buried in my chest.
Her waist was folding; knees about to hit pavement. I hooked an arm around it, yanking her up.
"Eep…."
Short squeak as her back straightened, face popping up to meet mine. Pain-twisted features, but still gorgeous. Especially those slightly curved orange eyes sparkling between.
Squish.
Held her waist firm—maybe too firm? Her massive, watermelon-sized tits pressed delightfully against my chest. Snapped me right back to reality.
"Giena?"
"…Y-yes."
Face scrunched, but she answered properly. Not reassured, I kept going.
"Feeling better now?"
"…Y-yes, yes."
"If I let go, no more violence?"
"…N-no. I-I won't…."
"Promise?"
"…."
She nodded, lips sealed. Good enough. But I didn't release her waist.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
Powerful heartbeat pulsed through her tits into my chest. Undeniably still riled up.
I wrapped both arms fully around her waist.
"S-Smith… sir?"
"Not letting go till you calm down."
"N-no… I-I'm really… f-fine now, so p-please let go…."
Thud-thud! Thud-thud! Thud-thud! Thud-thud!
Vibrations shook me; I flinched. Her face flushed crimson, heat rising from her body.
"G-Giena?"
"A-ah… I-I'm really okay, s-so please let go…."
"Ah, yep."
Finally clocked the heartbeat's cause. I flung my arms wide and stepped back.
Freed, she retreated, hands cupping her slapped tit, head bowed.
Tch… Hit pretty hard.
"S-sorry. Got carried away…."
"Huh? N-no, it's fine. No, really… i-it's okay."
She snapped her head up, face beet-red, clutching her chest, shaking it off frantically.
"What a load of bullshit."
"Ack."
Siron shoved me from behind—right into Giena. She caught me lightly. Very lightly. No hugging intent.
"Damn. Silver-rank must mean tough as nails. How's she even alive like that?"
Siron, who'd dumped me, grabbed the wrecked woman's face, inspecting.
"Teeth all intact too. No blood from ribs, probably not broken. Limbs? Temple heal'll fix 'em."
She dropped the head carelessly and stood.
"Hey. Bitch is still breathing, so quit dicking around and drag her to the temple."
No one budged at Siron's words. She shrugged at the zombies.
Shot a side-eye at Giena's feather-light grip on my shoulder, then snatched my hand, yanking me away.
Giena's grip was zero-strength; I was in Siron's arms instantly. Then, "Ah…." A faint, regretful sigh from Giena hit my ear.
"Hey."
I turned, assuming she meant me. Nope—glaring at Giena behind.
"What're you standing there like an idiot for with all this shit? Get over here."
"Ah… y-yes."
Giena blinked, nodded, and hurried to my side.
Siron eyed her suspiciously, tsked, and turned away.
"We're heading to the castle. Clean this mess yourselves."
She jabbed a finger at a dazed soldier and strode off, dragging me. Giena stuck a finger's width away, refusing to lag.
The yelling thief mob and big woman's subordinates parted like the Red Sea as we approached.
Dragged along, I asked,
"We cool just leaving? Wasn't she a silver-rank adventurer?"
"Didn't croak. Good enough. Owner'll sort the rest."
"Feels like dumping it…."
"Dumping my ass. Blame your useless escorts. They'll handle it—scared of Ardella hearing. Guild complains? Sis'll deal. Her problem."
Siron glared at still-flushed Giena walking beside.
Then leaned to my ear.
"…You. Unless someone's kidnapping you, don't go slapping other bitches' tits. Even a guy's ass could get charged. Got it?"
"…Y-yeah?"
"Yeah… Knew you wouldn't. Anyway. Got it?"
"Uh, yep."
"And."
Siron paused, rubbed her own chest with her free hand, gulped.
"…Start gentle at first…."
"Huh?"
Whipped around, shocked—but she faced forward, ears burning red for me to see.
I blinked, turned back quietly. We returned to the castle in total silence.
**
"Damn. Hurt just watching."
Juris rubbed her chest, shaking her head.
"So? What's next?"
She asked Beneo, peering down at the Merchant Guild from the second-floor window.
Beneo, still watching, replied,
"You stand by."
"…Can't we just kill those bitches down there? Useless now anyway."
"…."
Beneo turned, glaring. Juris pouted.
"…Fine."
She stuck out her lip and stormed out, muttering loud enough: "Always picking on me."
Alone, Beneo sighed inwardly, watching the scene stir below.
Unexpected.
Giena the adventurer. Immeasurable strength, but always in the back, never first—assumed the redhead would act. Instead, Giena surged forward. Bare-handed. Strength beyond human—froze everyone, even backups hesitated and retreated.
Ruined Beneo's plan. Waited for chaos to let someone contact the protectee. But chaos ended before opportunity.
Bzzz—
Vibration from her bosom. Quick motion inside.
"Capture alive outside city. Ignore if staying inside."
Hand out. Beneo kept watching the clearing scene.
Soon, her eyes shifted to the entrance. Crowd dispersed; insiders trickled out. When none left, she stepped back.
Slipped out quietly, entered Guild. Melded into shadows, soundless, fading to near-invisible.
Slowly spread senses—no stragglers. Scanned whole building, exited silently.
None, as expected.
Hoped the castle-ejected boy and his contacts came here—no trace. Since that first night to Bambino Garden, they'd never emerged. Obvious, really.
Maybe to gauge their strength.
Thought simple contact setup. Too simplistic.
"Haa…."
Rare sigh from Beneo. Fail here, stuck near protectee awhile. Lord's orders—no dodging.
Problem: Constant face-time with the immeasurable one. Made her sigh.
Must resolve here.
Overloaded managing subs—no desire for side-eye glares. Another hidden sigh, vanished into alley.