Lana
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the stone walls of my new temporary home, my mind still spinning.
Sylas. Kaelith.
Boss.
Luthien had called them that so casually. As if it was common knowledge.
As if it was obvious.
I gritted my teeth, running a hand through my hair.
It wasn't just Luthien.
Every single elf in this place —they all worked for them.
Sylas and Kaelith weren't just feared warriors.
They were leaders of the Thronshade. Criminal organization.
Forced into marriage? Fine. Being dragged around like luggage? Annoying, but manageable. Nearly getting murdered in my sleep? Traumatizing, but I survived.
But now?
Now, I was stuck in a criminal organization.
And beneath this place was a massive underground hideout. The further I explored, the more I realized just how big it was. Endless corridors, rooms, and even strange facilities—everything from meeting halls to what looked like a mini training ground.
Living in a den of criminals wasn't easy, but I never expected my first real problem here to be an overly obsessed elf woman—obsessed with my two husbands.
Yes, I was still struggling to accept the reality that I was married to two elves. But what was even harder to accept?
That some muscular, steel-bodied elf woman was now challenging me to a sword duel.
This woman is insane!
It all started when I stepped out of my room, finally deciding to explore the main area of the hideout.
The moment I walked through, all eyes turned toward me. Some were filled with curiosity, others with disdain, and some, frankly, seemed to be silently hoping I'd disappear.
I ignored them, keeping my pace casual, pretending not to care. That is, until a deep, sharp voice—so rough it barely sounded like a woman's—cut through the air.
"Hey, little human!"
I stopped in my tracks.
Slowly, I turned my head—and instantly regretted it.
A tall elf woman stood before me, her arms crossed, golden eyes burning with open hostility.
She was huge—easily taller than Sylas. Her white hair was tied in a high ponytail, emphasizing her sharp, sculpted features. Her body looked like it was carved from stone, every inch of muscle coiled with tension.
A dangerous presence radiated from her, sharp and suffocating.
I swallowed hard.
"You don't belong here," she said, voice dripping with contempt.
Her words weren't just a statement. They were a challenge.
I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. "Oh? I wasn't aware there was an entry exam. Unfortunately for you, I've already passed."
Her lips curled into a smirk. "Kaelith and Sylas are just playing with you. They'll get bored and throw you away soon enough."
My fingers twitched.
Ah, So that's what this was about.
Jealousy.
The elf woman stepped closer, towering over me.
"But before that happens—"
Without warning, she drew a sword and slammed it into the ground in front of me with a deafening CLANG.
"Fight me."
I stared at the sword lying on the floor. Then at her. Then back at the sword.
Was she serious?
This thing was massive.
There was no way I could lift it properly—let alone fight with it.
A low murmur rippled through the crowd gathering around us. Excitement. Amusement. Some were already placing bets, and I had a terrible feeling that none of them were betting on me.
I took a deep breath.
This was bad.
But showing weakness here? That would be even worse.
If I wanted to survive in this world, I had to prove that I could.
Slowly, I reached down, gripping the hilt with both hands and tried to lift it dramatically.
Nothing happened.
I clenched my jaw, adjusting my stance, and pulled harder.
The sword barely moved an inch off the ground before the sheer weight of it yanked me backward—
"Ugh—!"
I lost my balance and landed flat on my back in the most ungraceful way possible. I was sprawled out on the floor like a fallen ragdoll.
The entire room erupted with laughter.
Someone whistled. "Hah! She can't even lift a sword properly!"
I clenched my teeth, my face burning.
Somewhere in the crowd, I heard Sylas chuckling. Kaelith, as expected, was probably just watching with his usual unimpressed expression.
Noooo, my pride… my dignity…
The elf woman crossed her arms, laughing. "What's wrong? I thought you wanted to prove yourself."
I exhaled sharply, pushing myself off the ground.
Fine. If I couldn't win with brute strength, I'd win with my brains.
I stood up, dusting off my clothes, and flashed the elf woman a bright, almost mischievous smile. "Alright, in that case, I have a better idea."
She sneered. "What? Gonna run away?"
I raised my index finger. "Nope. I just want to challenge you in something fairer. Since I clearly can't fight with a sword, how about we test our strength in another way?"
Her golden eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Casually, I strolled over to a nearby table, grabbed a large jug filled with dark elven wine, and returned to face her.
I lifted the jug with a smirk. "We battle in a different way. A drinking contest."
The crowd gasped.
Then, all at once, the hideout exploded with excitement.
Cheers erupted. Some elves whistled, others slammed their fists against tables, and I could hear people already placing new bets.
The elf woman burst into laughter. "You want to challenge me to a drinking contest? Are you serious? Elven wine can knock a human unconscious with just one sip."
I nodded. "I know. Unless, of course, you're scared of losing to a little human like me."
That did it. Her pride was instantly provoked.
She scoffed, rolling her shoulders. "Fine, If that's what you want. I'll destroy you this way."
And just like that, the match was set.
We sat across from each other, massive goblets filled with thick, deep-purple elven wine in our hands.
Kaelith sat quietly in the corner, observing without expression. Sylas, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly entertained by the spectacle. I had a feeling he suspected I had a cunning plan.
The contest began. The elf woman downed her first drink swiftly, and I followed suit.
First glass—no reaction.
Second glass—her eyes started to water slightly but she remained steadfast.
Third glass—her posture swayed.
Fourth glass—her words slurred into incoherent muttering.
Fifth glass—Suddenly, she slammed her goblet down. "Ha! I… I can still… drink more…"
She attempted to take a step forward. Or at least, she tried.
Her foot barely lifted off the ground before—
THUD.
She collapsed heavily to the floor, completely unconscious.
The room erupted in cheers. Some elves laughed heartily, while others looked at me with newfound respect.
Sylas laughed loudly, slamming his hand against the table. "Damn, sweetheart! You're full of surprises."
Kaelith exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. But I caught it—that barely-there smirk.
I won.
I turned, lifting my chin proudly. "Well, I believe I've proven myself. May I retire for the night now?"
With that, I walked past the unconscious elf woman, feeling victorious.
I did it. I actually won.
Who knew my past failures in life would finally come in handy?
Back in the human world, I had spent countless nights drowning my sorrows in cheap alcohol—frustrated from endless job rejections, surviving off instant noodles, and basically being a professional unemployed mess.
Drinking had practically been my hobby.
And now? That useless skill had just saved my ass.
I almost laughed.
But the moment I reached my room and closed the door—
My legs gave out.
I collapsed onto the bed, my head spinning, my entire body feeling way too warm.
Damn it. That wine was strong.
I blinked, trying to focus, but my vision blurred.
I won… right?
And then—darkness.
To be continued…