Chương 3: My Magic Didn't Work On Him

Unaware that her pursuer had exited the forest, the young woman with reddish-brown locks continued to flee as if her very life depended on it. She didn't come to a halt until nearly half an hour later when she was utterly breathless, her limbs tingling, her head throbbing with dizziness.

'Ah, I can't run any longer! I surrender! That dangerous man must have given up too, right?'

She found a spot and finally paused, hazel eyes darting left and right even as she gasped for air.

As the tension left her body, she allowed herself to collapse on the ground, her back against a tree. She recalled the man's image with gritted teeth—those mischievous blue eyes, that unnaturally handsome face, and that infuriatingly arrogant grin.

Despite his unassuming attire, it was impossible not to discern his noble origins.

'Spirits be damned, why does it have to be a noble of all people? I didn't stab him deeply but what if he is the kind of narrow-minded young master? What if he asks his men to search for me? It has not even been three months since Grandpa and I settled here. I do not want to leave so soon!'

Rubbing her face with frustration, she soon set off towards the sound of flowing water nearest to her.

A small stream entered her sight. When she bent down, the crystal clear water allowed her to see her disheveled appearance.,

Her long hair was a mess, filled with leaves and twigs at this point. Her clothing had rips and tears from running through the forest without paying attention to bramble along her path.

'How do I explain this to Grandpa?' she complained. 'If only that deer was not pregnant, I would not have bothered to save her. A decision made out of a whim…ugh! Grandpa was right— I should stop poking my nose into others' business.'

After washing her face with water, she began to tend to her appearance.

The trespasser was a bright-eyed young woman with rather delicate features, her sweet face brimming with girlish charm, a direct contrast to her coarse language and rather ruffian-like actions. There was an air of stubbornness and arrogance around her, one that was rare for a female to have.

Be it her beauty or her behavior, it was apparent she was far from being an ordinary village girl.

Once she regained her calm, her thoughts went back to the earlier incident with the blue-eyed nobleman. She looked at her hands with doubt.

'My magic, it didn't work on that man?'

For as long as she could remember, she had always been special. She could use magic!

Not the kind that appears in books–-where people could produce fire or fly in the sky—but a kind of magic that would allow her to slightly control wind, which she mostly only uses to protect herself.

When that dangerous man caught her, she used her magic to push him away. To her surprise, it did not work. Otherwise, she would not have stooped so low as to stab him.

She had never stabbed a person before, and she could not help but feel uncomfortable recalling what happened.

As she wallowed in confusion, the sound of splashing caught her attention. A school of fish appeared in the stream.

"Fish! Good timing! Grandpa must be starving by now. Because of that damned man, I haven't caught any food for today!"

She looked here and there, and after spotting some reeds nearby, she began to cut them with her knife. Her actions were quick and precise, giving away the fact that this was not the first time she did this. As a self-sufficient person, not only was she able to weave a grass basket, she was also able to efficiently catch fish enough for two people to feed on.

Satisfied with her haul, she began running once more.

'Should I bake them or make them into soup?' she idly wondered as she traversed a familiar route through the forest.

On the other side of the forest, there was a nameless village composed of hunters and gatherers. The settlement was small and humble with only about ten or so families, most of them residents from a nearby town who moved out to earn their living directly from the forest.

There was a small wooden cabin near the village fence. An elderly man with a robust frame was cooking food inside the wooden shed acting as a kitchen extension in the front yard. He was adding firewood under the boiling clay pot.

"I am back, Grandpa! Sorry for coming back late!"

The young woman put the grass basket on the wooden table. Delighted to see him outside, she approached the old man.

"How about you wait while I take over? What are you making?"

The robust man with a head full of white hair turned to look at his granddaughter.

"What happened to you, Ori?"

"Eh? What do you mean?" the young woman called Oriana asked, playing ignorant.

"You smell like a horse, and no one can afford horses in this village."

The smile on her face faded.

"A spoiled brat, a son of a noble, happened, Grandpa," Oriana replied in an annoyed tone.

Her grandfather chuckled. "What did the spoiled brat do to you?"

"Do not ask, Grandpa," she said angrily. "Those annoying nobles. Thankfully I was not born one of them."

To this statement, her grandfather said nothing and continued stirring the claypot.

"I cooked a lamb for you," her grandfather said. "Go set the table so you can eat."

"Lamb?" she exclaimed. "I love lamb—wait, we do not have meat in stock. Did you go to town, Grandpa?" she asked suspiciously.

However, her grandfather did not respond and continued to stir the claypot.

"Grandpa?" Oriana probed, causing the elderly man to turn around and exclaim with a warm laugh.

"Ori! You are back? Hmm, why do you smell like horses? Did something happen to you?"

Oriana's heart sank. "G-Grandpa…"

"Well, I cooked lamb for you," the elderly man spoke, unaware that he had said the same words mere minutes ago. "Go set the table so you can eat—"

A crestfallen expression on her face, Oriana moved to assist the elderly man away from the outdoor kitchen. No one could see that her hands were trembling.

"How about you go inside to rest, Grandpa?" She forced herself to smile. "I will finish cooking the lamb."

No matter what her grandfather said, she remained staunch. Only after he entered their house did she allow a tear to fall from her eyes. She held back a sob.

Her only family, her grandfather, was suffering from dementia. She needed to save him. She was not ready to lose the only family she had.

Oriana was an orphan. According to her grandfather, she had lost her parents at an early age due to an unfortunate accident. It was her grandfather who raised her all by himself. Because of her, they had never settled in a single place and were always on the move.

Her grandfather toiled every single day for her sake, and even now, despite his old age, despite the sickness eating his mind, he had always prioritized Oriana's wants and needs over his own.

He was her everything.

However, a few years ago, his mental faculties began to deteriorate. There were days he would forget doing or saying things, and there were times he would struggle with speaking or calling out her name.

For his sake, she developed an interest in herbs and the practice of medicine. A couple days ago, she heard from a passing customer when she was selling herbs in town about the treatment for her grandfather's sickness.

Black nightshade— a highly poisonous herb banned by the kingdom.

"I will soon get those herbs we need to treat you, Grandpa. Even if I have to sell my soul to the devil, I will find a way to get those herbs for you…"

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