Chapter 37 : Ambushing? How Low…

Milly sat cross-legged on the damp forest floor, looking up at the dense canopy. The trees were too thick—blocking almost all sunlight. Only scattered beams pierced through, slicing into her eyes and making her squint.

Where the hell did she take me?!

She pinched her cheek.

Pain flared—sharp, real. Not a dream.

She stood. Moisture from the humus seeped through her white socks. Her small leather shoes crunched over dry twigs.

She glanced down. At least Stacy had the decency to dress her in a clean dress. But this frilly outfit looked more suited for a tea party than survival in the wild.

Surveying the empty woods, Milly cleared her throat and called out:

“Stacy!”

Her voice echoed—then vanished. No response. Just wind rustling leaves.

Strange. Usually, calling her name made Stacy appear instantly—ready to pin her down. She rubbed her neck—the tender bruises from last night’s choking still fresh.

Last night, one word set her off. Now, nothing?

Fine. Time for Plan B.

“Master? Master? Master?”

No answer.

So she dropped the act.

“Pervert! Asshole! Psycho! Crazy old hag!” She screamed, voice bouncing between the trees, startling a flock of black crows.

Their eyes glowed red—just like Stacy’s. Creepy. She grabbed a rock and hurled it at their perch. The crows scattered, cawing mockingly.

Alright. Confirmation: Stacy had abandoned her. Left her to die.

Perfect. She never wanted to see that woman again anyway.

Humming a cheerful tune, Milly decided to settle here—build a home, live in peace.

Then—

A chill ran down her spine.

She stopped humming. Scanned the area.

Nothing seemed wrong. Just wind. Silence.

Paranoia?

But danger struck without warning.

As she turned to resume walking, goosebumps exploded across her nape.

Wrong.

The air smelled burnt—like scorched leather mixed with sulfur.

She braced to run.

Then—a low hum filled the woods. Like electricity crackling through fur.

“Another electric one?”

Before she could complain, she ran.

But after only a few steps—

A massive shadow leapt overhead, landing solidly in front of her.

The beast stood two meters tall—three to four meters long. Silver-blue fur crackled with jagged arcs of lightning. Drool dripped from its fangs, sizzling where it hit the ground.

It looked like a wolf from her world’s zoo—but electrified.

Thunderwolf. Fine. She’d named it.

No sooner thought than the beast lunged.

Milly rolled—barely dodging. A claw grazed her ear, slicing off strands of white hair.

She snatched a rock, threw it—

Zapped to dust before it reached the creature.

“Damn it. Don’t think you’re the only one who can use lightning.”

She touched the thorn sigil on her collarbone. She used to channel electricity. This was just a big dog—she’d fry it.

She raised her hand—fingers aimed—

No lightning.

Only cold sweat.

The Thunderwolf let out a mocking growl. Its fur bristled. Electricity gathered along its spine—forming a blinding orb.

Milly turned and ran.

Slippery humus. Ash spores blurring her vision. The roar behind her grew louder. She felt the heat of electricity scorching her back.

When thunder cracked, she glanced back—

CRACK!

Lightning struck her left shoulder.

Numbness. Pain.

But then—she stopped.

Turned.

Looked at the charging beast.

And smiled.

“That all?”

She shrugged her tingling shoulder.

“This is weaker than when Stacy zaps my butt. Compared to what I’ve endured? You’re nothing.”

The Thunderwolf roared—insulted. Lightning surged across its body.

Second bolt. Third.

Milly stood firm. Let the current tear through her.

Then—she raised her finger.

The electricity flooding her body reversed—surging into the beast.

KRA-KOOM!

The Thunderwolf howled, burned, enraged.

How dare this weak human hurt it? A disgrace among monsters.

It charged.

Milly sidestepped—then leapt, climbing onto its back like a feral animal.

The beast’s fur lit up—preparing to unleash everything.

Instead of jumping off—

Milly grabbed its neck.

Electricity flooded into her—writhing across her nerves, twisting her face in pain.

But she held on.

And bit.

Her tiny fangs sank into its flesh—

And the stored lightning exploded inward.

The Thunderwolf shrieked, thrashing wildly. Milly’s leg slammed into a tree—crack—her knee dislocated.

Still, she didn’t let go.

Electricity arced between them—lighting the forest like daylight. Trees swayed as if clapping.

“Let’s see… who dies first…” Milly mumbled, fingers digging into the wound.

Minutes passed.

Then—

The Thunderwolf collapsed—dead.

Milly staggered up, hair singed, skin blistered. Bloodied, broken—but grinning.

She flipped the dead beast the middle finger.

“Heh… I won. Just a little puppy… you only get to watch me win, heh…”

She hadn’t even found a place to rest—

Then—

WHOOSH!

A searing pain tore through her chest.

She froze.

Saw it—

A black tail protruding from her torso. The barbed tip glistened with blood.

Pfft!

It withdrew. Her blood sprayed in an elegant arc.

She turned—weak, coughing blood.

The attacker flicked its tail like a lady adjusting her skirt—then licked the blood off.

“Ambush…” Milly fell backward, laughing bitterly. “…Can’t play fair, huh?”