Savage Forest - Chapter 121.1

Enya shouted with a hoarse voice.

“Se, Servia…!”

The woman lifted her head and began to drag Enya somewhere in a frenzy.

There was no mistaking it.

It was definitely Servia.

As Enya was pulled along by her hair, she screamed out.

“Uh, uugh, You can’t… let go…!”

The pain in her thigh, where Servia had jabbed her, was excruciating. Enya clutched her hair, summoning every ounce of strength to resist.

Servia held a spear in her hand.

Judging by the familiar short grip, it seemed she had picked up Reyhald’s weapon. Even though she was disoriented, one thing was clear.

‘If I don’t stand my ground now, that woman will kill me right here…!’

As that thought crossed her mind, Servia violently jabbed the tip of Reyhald’s spear into Enya’s side.

Enya barely managed to dodge the spear tip.

However, blood flowed freely from her hand, which had brushed against the blade. Now, the two women began to roll frantically in the rain. Of course, the one wielding the weapon had the advantage.

“You b*tch! Die!”

Servia screamed with fury as she swung the spear wildly at Enya.

Enya couldn’t understand how such strength could come from Servia’s gaunt arms. Yet, the spear was swung without any formal training. It was a level she could block. The real problem was that as Servia recklessly swung the spear, their bodies were being pushed dangerously closer to the edge of the cliff.

‘At this rate, we’re going to fall off the ledge…!’

If they fell into the waterfall in such a vulnerable state, it would mean certain death.

Last time, Enya had barely survived, though the fall had been from a much lower height. Now, the pouring rain had raised the water level, and jumping from here would be suicide.

There was reduced visibility because of the rain.

How had Servia, who had been captured by Yaru’s side, managed to come over to this side while the tree was collapsing?

Anxiously, she glanced toward Senu.

From a distance, he was still lying on the ground, seemingly unconscious again. Enya felt her body screaming in despair as she had to face Servia alone. She wouldn’t be surprised if she fainted right then and there.

“AAAHHH!”

Meanwhile, Servia faced Enya, unleashing the last remnants of her fury.

She raged at Enya, the greatest obstacle in her life, with a roar that was almost convulsive.

“If it weren’t for you, my life would have been perfect! It’s all your fault! Die! Die! DIIIE!”

Servia’s life flashed through her mind like a vivid dream.

Born as the daughter of an elder, she had lived a life of power and privilege. She had given birth to several sons, fathered by the strongest man in the tribe.

A woman firmly chosen as the next elder of Aquilea, revered by all the women of the tribe.

She had been the living embodiment of Aquilea—an ideal, a goal, the very definition of righteousness. Yet now, her appearance matched none of those descriptions. She blamed it all on Enya, the one standing before her. No, to be precise, she blamed it on those two d*mned lovers.

Those d*mned two lovers.

Tarhan and Enya.

Servia whispered furiously to herself.

‘Those annoying Tarhan and Enya… Enya and Tarhan…!’

She knew better than anyone that it had all started after they had appeared. Every time those two young lovers gazed at each other as if they were the only ones in the world, her heart crumbled a little more. Her life had been a smooth path—one that anyone would envy and admire.

…That was until that man appeared.

‘Tarhan!’

Servia gritted her teeth at the thought of his face.

She recalled the moment she first wanted to invite him into her home. It was evident that if Tarhan, a man from a foreign tribe, had served her for just one night, his future would have been secure. At the very least, she would have liberated him from the harshest duties he was enduring at the time.

However, Tarhan refused, without hesitation… and it was all because of that girl.

The limping Enya.

The being farthest removed from the power and glory of Aquilea.

An insignificant speck of dust on the dirt floor.

An object of disdain and disregard.

Yet, Tarhan had devoted his pure heart to that limping girl. His lifetime of unwavering loyalty to one woman, and that truth maddeningly stirred Servia’s desires every time she looked at Tarhan and Enya. It wasn’t a childish emotion like love. It was craving and attachment… a longing for feelings she had never possessed and likely never would.

Indeed.

Servia craved that ‘relationship.’ The emotions that Tarhan showed Enya were of a kind she had never felt from Kahanti, not even once.

Servia had loved Kahanti.

She had felt desire and attraction toward him, but to Kahanti, she was just one of many women. He had constantly switched out women who came and went to his dwelling right up until his death.

That was only natural.

He was the chieftain.

So, Servia had never once felt miserable about it. Even considering such feelings would have been a waste and an insult to her. Yet here she was, yearning for a man’s purity.

She was being greedy.

Surprisingly, she was envious of the limping girl.

It was inconceivable.

According to the teachings of Aquilea, the relationship between men and women was nothing more than the act of bearing children. Yet, it was the purity that Tarhan showed to Enya that made her question everything—even her own deeply ingrained Aquilean beliefs.

It was a question she shouldn’t have been asking as the next elder.