Selina stood behind Renato, both hands gripping the hilt of her Flame-Shaped Greatsword. Her breathing was faster than usual, and the gill slits on her neck opened and closed.
The Sea Elf worked to steady her breathing and calm her pounding heart, but her calf muscles still trembled involuntarily.
It was not fear. Even when hunting enormous sea beasts in the lightless depths, Selina had never felt the slightest fear.
The faint spasms in her muscles were simply the price of sprinting at full speed behind the Black-Armored Swordsman.
Although the Sea Elf's physical abilities far surpassed those of ordinary people from White Harbor, she could not hope to match Renato's speed when he ran flat out, even without armor and with so little weight to carry.
Renato had practically skimmed through the shadows all the way from the Dock District to the harbor pier, while Selina had barely kept up despite giving it everything she had.
The deck of the Pickle Barrel rose and fell slightly beneath their feet. Waves pushed against its side, the hull creaked low, and the mooring ropes tightened and slackened around the bollards.
The night wind kept blowing in from the Bay, laden with salty moisture, dispersing a little of the thick stench of corpses on deck.
Renato glanced at the Sea Elf beside him, confirmed that she still had enough strength to protect herself, then looked away.
In theory, keeping Selina out of the fighting aboard the Pickle Barrel to avoid potentially losing experience points was the most sensible decision.
But as a warrior, he would not casually deprive someone else of the right to fight.
Besides, the Sea Elf's sense of smell had been crucial to this pursuit. Without her help, Renato might really have let the Necromancy Mage escape...
"If you