Gunmage
Chapter 173: No margin for mercy

Chapter 173: Chapter 173: No margin for mercy

"...or I stop healing you, you’ll be dead in less than thirty seconds."

At that, the other elves in the room seemed to snap out of their stupor, Regaining their senses in a single instant.

"Lugh!"

Selaphiel bellowed, her voice thundering with command, just as Jahira appeared behind him in a blur—her dagger flashing, poised against his neck.

The last elf merely trembled, shrinking back in fear. He didn’t look like the confident type.

Jahira had reacted without thinking. On instinct, driven by the chaos of the moment. Lugh had the responsibility of making the situation clear to her.

"If you kill me, we both die"

He stated coldly.

"Knowing this, what’s the purpose of your blade?"

"Well, it’s..."

"Shut up!"

Selaphiel snapped.

"Heal him and leave, and we won’t pursue this matter further."

Lugh exhaled slowly, a sigh laced with disdain.

"Ridiculous."

He turned back to his victim, expression devoid of warmth.

"I’ll give you a countdown of five to tell me where they are. My mana isn’t infinite, after all."

Jahira’s voice cut in sharply.

"If you stop healing him, I’ll kill you."

"Five."

Her words didn’t faze him.

"I’m serious."

"Four."

To Lugh, it wasn’t even a threat. Killing him would mean condemning the person she was trying to save.

And if these elves were capable of healing a stab wound to the heart, they would’ve done so already. That meant, for now, he was invaluable.

The 30 seconds after he stopped would be a valuable shield.

"Three."

"The sword! It’s in Selaphiel’s room!"

The injured elf gasped, the fear of death seemed to be stronger than his pride.

The mawglass confirmed it, he wasn’t lying. In a separate chamber on the manor’s third floor, one of Lugh’s clones opened its eyes.

Without hesitation, it darted forward with beastkin speed, a cloak of invisibility rippling around it as it raced toward Selaphiel’s room.

Lugh’s gaze returned to the wounded elf.

"And the ring?"

"It’s... it’s in my pocket."

An odd choice but Lugh wasn’t complaining.

"Bring it."

Wincing through waves of searing pain and numbing relief, the elf reached into his robe and fished out a small, tarnished silver ring. It was plain and inconspicuous, yet unmistakable.

Lugh accepted it with a steady hand.

It had ended too quickly. He’d gotten what he came for and still retained a considerable amount of mana. He decided to press further.

"Finally... what’s your name?"

"I-It’s Lance."

Without ceremony, Lugh yanked out the splinter, and a thick spray of blood erupted. His hands pressed firmly against Lance’s chest, and a surge of green light enveloped the elf’s heart.

Damaged tissues knitted together in seconds, the gaping wound sealing with unnatural precision.

He stood.

Jahira’s dagger still hovered mere inches from his throat.

"I suggest you don’t do anything too strenuous for the next month or so."

Then his eyes shifted to the tall woman behind him, dressed in black and white.

"So. What are you going to do now?"

His gaze flicked briefly to the dagger.

"Kill me?"

It might have seemed like he was being overconfident even though his life was in someone else’s hands, in reality lugh was anything but.

Most of his mind was focused on the mawglass.

The moment it showed a future projection of that dagger piercing his skin, he’d strike back with all his might.

Which, given his current state, would be utterly terrifying.

"Jahira, that’s enough."

Selaphiel’s command rang out.

The dagger withdrew instantly.

She stepped forward carefully, using wind magic to sweep away the broken glass and splintered wood from her path. Each step she took was deliberate, regal even, as she reached Lugh and yanked him sharply by the ear.

"Brat! You have a lot of explaining to do."

His body bent at an awkward angle, Lugh paused in thought as he encountered something unexpected.

"Why is your room trapped?"

She halted mid-step, her teeth grinding together. The anger in her eyes flared but quickly dimmed. She barely controlled the outburst.

"You should be lucky your clone isn’t dead."

Just then, the door burst open with a bang.

"What happened?!"

Isolde strode in, her ever-present shadows flanking her. Her wide eyes scanned the room, taking in the chaos.

Shredded furniture. Bloodstained floors. Shattered walls. A scene of carnage and destruction.

Except for the people themselves, quite literally nothing in the room was whole.

"What... happened?"

She repeated again, her voice softer now.

"Oh, it’s nothing much."

Selaphiel’s voice was calm, but the dagger-glare she shot Lugh contradicted her tone.

"This little rascal just got into a fight, that’s all."

Despite the composure in her voice, her grip on his twisted ear hadn’t loosened one bit.

"A fight?"

Isolde blinked. The news couldn’t overshadow her emotions of him being well and alive.

Then a detail hit her.

A fight! There were only elves here.

She paled at the implications. She remembered the pressure she had felt from her study. Seeing him standing on his own two feet, she couldn’t help but be curious.

"So... who won?"

Everyone turned toward her.

Even her own shadows looked taken aback. She knew how blunt and insensitive the question was. But she also really, really wanted to find out how the battle went.

Selaphiel’s lips pressed into a tight line.

"It was a draw."

"A draw?"

Jahira raised an amused brow.

Selaphiel stared her down.

"Yes. It was a draw."

"A draw it is, then"

The cold woman responded in a dry voice, losing interest already.

She surveyed the wreckage, glancing around for a chair, but they were all shredded.

Instead she opened the windows and sat on the sill, her back facing the three-story drop outside.

Isolde watched in stunned silence.

A draw? Against an elf? Just after recovering from those kind of wounds?

She tucked her astonishment away—for now.

Her expression softened.

"It’s good to see you fully recovered, Lugh,"

She said with a warm smile.

Then her face hardened. Her tone shifted—sharp, serious.

"Now—explain everything. How you were attacked, what happened, who did it. Any detail you can remember."

Her eyes burned with a quiet fury.

Lugh sighed.