Villainess Becomes a Survivalist (Unedited) *18+*

Fight

Amelia's breath caught as the figure stepped out of the mist, their form barely discernible through the veil of fog. For a moment, everything seemed to still—the wind, the rustling of leaves, even her own heartbeat.

Keva's hand touched her arm lightly, signaling for her to stay low. She obeyed without question, crouching deeper behind the tree. Her eyes remained fixed on the stranger ahead. Whoever they were, they moved with purpose, glancing around as if they knew they were being watched but hadn't yet pinpointed the source.

The scouts waited in silence, their figures hidden among the trees. Amelia strained to see through the mist, trying to make out details. The figure wore dark, rugged clothing, blending into the forest. Their posture was cautious but confident, as if they had made this trek many times before.

Keva's hand gestures signaled the scouts to spread out, surrounding the area without making their presence known. Amelia stayed close to him, her heart pounding.

Suddenly, the figure stopped, kneeling down to inspect something on the ground—a mark, perhaps, or a trail. The tension in the air grew thicker as the moments passed.

Keva motioned for Amelia to stay put before creeping forward. She watched him move with practiced ease, his body blending into the surroundings like a shadow. He was careful, every step deliberate, but Amelia's pulse quickened at the thought of him being exposed.

Then, without warning, the figure stood and began to retreat. They moved quickly now, as if they had found what they were looking for. Keva motioned for the scouts to hold their position, but as the figure disappeared into the fog, the decision was made: they had to follow.

Keva then motioned for Amelia and the others to move, and they silently pursued the figure through the dense forest, keeping their distance but staying close enough to track them. Amelia's breath was steady, her senses sharp.

They followed for what felt like hours, winding through narrow trails and ducking beneath low-hanging branches. The mist clung to the trees, making everything seem surreal, as if they were chasing a ghost. But the figure stayed just within sight, leading them deeper into the rival tribe's territory.

Finally, the forest opened into a small clearing, and Amelia felt her stomach twist. There, waiting in the shadows, were more figures—members of the rival tribe. They had been drawn into a trap.

Keva signaled for them to stop, his expression grim. The rival tribe's scouts had outmaneuvered them, and now they were vastly outnumbered. Amelia glanced at Keva, her heart racing. There were too many of them to take on directly, but retreating could expose them even further.

For a long moment, no one moved. Both sides remained still.

Amelia's fingers curled tightly around the handle of the knife at her waist. She hadn't expected this. Not so soon. But if a fight was coming, she was ready.

The rival scouts stepped forward, their leader—a tall, scarred man—raising his hand. He spoke in a language that sounded similar to the one Selka has been teaching her.

The scarred man raised his hand, his voice rough as he called out, "Bring your leader forward!"

Keva turned to Amelia and the scouts, his voice calm. "Stay here. I'll handle this."

Amelia's fingers tightened around her knife, but she gave a sharp nod, watching as Keva stepped out into the clearing.

Keva approached the rival leader, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "We don't want any trouble," he said calmly. "Let's talk this out. We can negotiate."

The rival leader stared at Keva in silence. His eyes were cold, calculating.

Keva tried again. "There's no need for bloodshed. We can find common ground—"