The Half-Elf Thief's Desperate Crawl
Half-elf Marim crawled toward them on all fours. Idi tilted her head at the sight.
"Customer...? Why are you coming out from there...? What's that smell...? Did Kali pee...?"
Marim, who had reached the feet of the Hell Horse, looked up at Bertrand and pleaded desperately.
"Wait just a moment... please hear me out...!"
"Bertrand... what's going on here...?"
"This half-elf. She was a thief."
"Oh... really...?"
Having heard his words, Idi stared down at Marim, sprawled on the floor, with blank eyes. A fragment of the curse sprouted slowly from beneath her wrist. In the pitch darkness with barely any moonlight, the curse fragment gleamed blacker than the shadows themselves.
"I'll cut your wrist..."
"Eek...! Please spare me...!"
On her knees, Marim frantically alternated glances between him and Idi, clasping her hands together in desperate begging. Her drooping ears made her look truly pitiful to anyone watching, but Idi bent down without a flicker of emotion.
"So why repay kindness like this..."
"Please, please! My siblings are waiting at home! If it's not me, they'll starve to death! I beg you, please!"
Marim begged desperately, spittle flying from her lips. But Idi ignored her and seized Marim's wrist. Marim thrashed wildly, using every ounce of strength to wrench her wrist free from that grip. Her entire body trembled with terror, tears streaming down her face.
In the end, Idi plunged the curse fragment into Marim's wrist.
"Gaaaaaaahhh!!"
Like slicing through a boiled radish, the curse fragment severed Marim's wrist smoothly.
"Bertrand... even if she did wrong, isn't this a bit too much...?"
In the inn's hall, Celereja said this as she used holy power to suture Marim's severed wrist. Overwhelmed by the intense pain, Marim had passed out, so he'd staunched the gushing blood from her wrist and woken Celereja. Thanks to the holy healing, Marim's wrist was restored perfectly without a trace, and Idi, who had fled far away from the holy power, now crept back slowly.
"It's back on... amazing..."
"Hey, black mage. How do you just chop off someone's wrist like you're trimming vegetables? Are you even human? No conscience at all?"
Under Celereja's scolding, Idi shrank back and retreated a step. No matter how much curses and black magic she wielded, a black mage was nothing but a fragile life before a saintess who commanded holy power.
"Jeez... a curse fragment... do you know how much that hurts? That's why she rolled her eyes back and fainted. Even pissed herself..."
"The pee wasn't me..."
As Celereja glared, Idi backed away even further.
"Saintess. That's enough now—go back up and get some sleep."
"Huh...? What about her?"
"We have business to discuss privately."
He pushed the hesitant saintess toward the stairs. Wrapping an arm around her waist and whispering softly in her ear, she obediently headed up to the third floor. Celereja would only be a hindrance once Marim woke up. When she opened her eyes, only the innkeeper who had beaten her and the black mage who had severed her wrist should be there.
Bertrand and Idi sat at a table, waiting for Marim to wake. A short while later, as the effects of the holy healing coursed through her body, Marim groaned and stirred awake.
"My... my wrist...!"
The moment she opened her eyes, Marim snapped to attention and frantically felt both wrists.
"Huff... huff... what the hell..."
The wrist that should have been sliced off and fallen to the floor was perfectly reattached. Marim twisted it this way and that in disbelief.
"Feeling better?"
At his voice, Marim jolted upright from her seated position and whipped her head toward him.
"Eek!"
"This mage healed your wrist."
Still not fully grasping the situation, Marim stared at Idi with a dumbstruck expression.
"In other words, she can inflict pain bad enough to make you wish for death—without actually killing you."
Even he felt uneasy saying it aloud, and Marim's face drained to the color of a sheet of paper.
Trembling like a leaf, she slowly bowed her head to the floor.
"I'll... do anything... you say..."
Indeed, cornering them with overwhelming power after a display of force always worked, anywhere, anytime. He needed this half-elf's abilities and had orchestrated the situation to exploit her to his maximum advantage.
In truth, he'd realized she was a thief the previous night—the night he'd freed her from Beldra's Curse Rope. He hadn't believed the half-elf's story, unlike Idi might have. It was too contrived, reeking of a third-rate novel plot you'd heard somewhere before. And a lone female half-elf traveling from Lenditofte, a full month's round trip, was nearly impossible. Moreover, as she headed to her room, her footsteps made no sound at all. Being light on one's feet or tiptoeing to muffle noise was one thing; complete silence was another.
That sparked firm suspicion, so he'd offered her free lodging to probe further. She probably thought she'd fooled him completely and grinned inwardly at the prospect of free room and board plus more theft. She'd walked right into a cage without realizing it was a cage.
"Lift your head."
"Y-yes..."
After eyeing the thoroughly cowed Marim for a moment, he spoke.
"Your name's Marim, right?"
"Yes..."
"From now on, answer my questions with nothing but the truth. This mage can distinguish truth from lies."
"Ah... y-yes... yep...!"
Of course, black mage Idwild couldn't cast such a spell. Mind-reading was advanced magic that even top-tier mages could barely mimic. But it was perfect for fooling a terrified half-elf with little magical knowledge. Fortunately, Idi caught on and said nothing, just staring at Marim with those blank eyes.
"And if even a tiny lie slips out, you'll be sent straight back to Lenditofte."
"Please... please... please no..."
Marim rubbed her hands together frantically, her face paling to the brink of fainting.
"Please, please..."
She swayed and braced herself on the floor with her hands. Thick tears plopped onto the wooden boards.
"Sob... mercy..."
She couldn't run or deceive. The physical prowess and cunning lies that had barely sustained her life were shattered. Her community teetered on annihilation. And she could be tortured endlessly, healed each time without dying. Marim was surely losing her mind to that powerlessness and despair.
"First: Are you from Lenditofte?"
"Yes... not where I was born, but where I've lived my whole life..."
She added specifics to avoid sounding like a lie.
"Good. Then who are the siblings you mentioned?"
"The young half-elves of Lenditofte. Not blood-related, but I look after a few... Half-elves aren't always kin, but we pair up like family to raise kids until they're adults."
That made sense. Communal child-rearing let anyone help, but pairing prevented neglected kids—efficient.
"You steal to feed them."
"Yes. Half-elves can't get high-paying jobs... so we have no choice but to steal..."
If true, he'd grasped her biggest weakness.
"Spill everything about your abilities."
"Silencing footsteps, blink, high jumps, endless running. That's the four."
Quite a lot... it'd be weirder if she didn't become a thief with those. He didn't want to hold kids or family hostage, but her skills were too tempting.
He could've overlooked the theft and just offered her a job at the inn. He wouldn't treat her like a slave without pay; she'd earn fair wages proportional to contribution, better than risky theft. But she might not see it that way. Once theft starts, it's hard to quit. Risk a bold heist, and luck could net a month's pay in one go—who'd give that up easily?
So, a bit cowardly, but squeezing her weakness with semi-threats was the way. Not that forced hiring meant unfair treatment.
"How'd you get those abilities?"
"I don't know... really. I truly don't..."
She kept glancing nervously at Idwild, desperately insisting her ignorance. Not a lie—just pleading she really didn't know. Idi's blank stare must've driven her mad.
Weakness confirmed, abilities verified—time for the main point.
"Marim."
"Y-yes... yep...!!"
"Work at the inn."
It was more command than suggestion. Marim clamped her mouth shut and gazed up at him pitifully. With the "truth-discerning" black mage watching from behind, she hesitated to speak. And after dragging her to rock bottom, suddenly offering a job under him? No sane person would agree instantly.
"No slave treatment. Monthly pay, free room and board while working. No discrimination for being half-elf."
"But I'm a half-elf. People will say a half-elf who cleans shit shouldn't serve food..."
"That's not your worry. I'll handle it. And you won't just serve in the hall."
"Then... what will I do...?"
"Deliveries."
"Deliveries...?"
He explained briefly to the baffled Marim. The city's rapid growth halted prior deliveries; he needed a swift courier, but ordinary hires wouldn't cut it. Then he'd seen her nimble moves robbing the wagon lot—perfect fit.
"Sound good? Just like theft, but delivering food instead of taking money."
"That's true... but..."
She still hesitated. He knew her thoughts.
"All your crimes in this city? Wiped clean. On condition you return the money buried on North Road to its owners."
"North Road...? What's that...?"
Idi, who'd been quiet, tilted her head. He explained Marim had buried all stolen cash; Idi tilted further.
"How'd you find it...?"
"Followed the black magic traces."
"Ah...?!"
Finding Marim's carefully hidden cash was simple. Black magic left traces. He'd once tracked Idi that way when she tried sneaking out at night to kill herself. Marim, bound by Beldra's Curse Rope, had dripped black magic residue along her path—he'd followed it. Digging? Just tell Kali to dig.
"Black magic pollutes surroundings. That's why your trail remained."
Marim slumped, shoulders drooping in total surrender—like a defendant awaiting execution after sentencing.
"Master... promise me one thing..."
Her parched voice leaked from dry lips.
"What?"
"Leave Lenditofte's half-elves alone..."
"Depends on how you perform."
Face crumbling like the world ended, Marim staggered and prostrated herself.
Though Marim did illegal work, most half-elves committed no crimes, surviving on dirty, grueling jobs humans shunned. Threatening massacre was just to push her to the brink—not real intent. If punishing her for real, a few more beats, tie her up, hand to guards—done. No need to kill innocents. He was pragmatic and greedy, not a mindless killer.
"Master... I'll do anything you command... just promise not to touch my siblings..."
As she crawled forward like she'd lick his shoes, he quickly pulled his foot back.
"Idi. Tracking mark. Half-day one."
Idi rose and approached Marim. Looking down at the terrified girl, she drawled slowly.
"It'll sting a little..."
Idi's hand cupped Marim's cheek, black energy rippling from it.
"Guh..."
A small geometric black pattern etched onto Marim's cheek as she gritted her teeth against the groan.
"That's a tracking mark. We can find you anywhere. So return all the stolen money. If you're not back before sunrise..."
Before he finished, Marim burst through the inn door like a cannon shot—launched at impossible speed.
Watching the slowly closing door, Idi muttered to herself.
"What was that...? Magic...?"
Down to the first floor at dawn, the early-rising staff gathered in the hall. Pelle leaned against a wall, arms crossed; Idi and Della chatted by the door. Approaching, Della spotted him and stepped aside with a troubled face.
"Master. Came down and found her like this..."
"Came back overnight and stayed knelt till now... won't get up even if told..."
Idi scratched her head.
At the inn door, Marim knelt with head bowed. Her eyes bloodshot red, lips cracked like drought-stricken earth. The cheek mark had faded to a faint outline over time.
"Money all returned?"
"Yes..."
He'd verify with guards or city hall later. No more tormenting the poor thief.
"Then go up, wash, sleep. Rest today—start tomorrow."
"Understood..."
"Della. Lend her some clothes."
"Sure."
Marim tried standing but couldn't after kneeling so long. Idi and Della supported her on both sides up the stairs. Watching them go, he entered the kitchen. Pelle had prepped breakfast ingredients on the counter; fire already lit in the hearth, courtesy of Idi.
As he set the pot on and poured oil, a voice came from behind.
"Um... Master..."
Turning, Marim stood at the kitchen threshold, eyes downcast. No footsteps—he hadn't noticed. Worried Della peeked behind.
"What? Something wrong?"
Hands covering her piss-soaked crotch, Marim peeked at him with green eyes.