Chapter 38: Off to the Capital
Three. Two. One.
The countdown in Vince’s head hit zero. With mathematical precision, he disengaged the passive tension in his muscles, suppressed his internal aura to the absolute baseline of a mundane civilian, and stepped smoothly out from the hollow cleft of the world-tree root. He walked gently onto the damp soil of the primary trail, his movements entirely non-threatening, his empty hands raised passively at shoulder height.
"Halt!"
The lead scout’s voice rang out like a whip crack. The two-man scouting unit instantly reined in their four-legged reptilian mounts, the beasts hissing viciously as their claws dug deep gouges into the mossy earth. The long, mana-infused lances of the riders dropped in perfect synchronization, the glowing blue tips locking onto Vince’s sternum.
Vince stopped in his tracks, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. He looked at the glowing lances, then up at the stoic, armored faces of the elite elven scouts. If he wanted to trigger his express ticket to the capital, he needed them to take him into custody under high-security protocols.
"Lovely morning for a patrol, gentlemen," Vince said, his voice dripping with an almost casual, deadpan dry humor. "I happened to lose my way looking for the local bakery. You wouldn’t happen to be escorting anyone toward the capital city today, would you? I’m looking to hitch a ride."
The two scouts didn’t even crack a smile. Their expressions remained as rigid and cold as the cerulean plate armor covering their chests. They didn’t find his statement amusing. In fact, they looked entirely unimpressed.
The lead scout swept a glowing, hand-held scanning matrix over Vince’s body. The device hummed, flashing a dull green indicator that signaled a complete lack of hostile mana or volatile magical displacement. To the elite soldiers, the hooded figure before them didn’t register as a high-tier threat, a dangerous rogue, or a spy. He registered as absolutely nothing. Just a harmless, magicless native commoner who had wandered too close to a restricted military zone.
"The trail is closed to civilians by order from the Ancestral Core Canopy," the lead scout barked flatly, completely ignoring the comment. "Turn around, retrace your steps, and clear the provincial line immediately. Do not make us repeat ourselves."
Vince leaned his head back slightly beneath his hood, his mind rapidly re-evaluating the parameters. They’re ignoring me, he realized, his calculative logic hitting an unexpected snag. Because my baseline mana signature is completely flat, they perceive me as a harmless local peasant. They aren’t going to arrest me. They’re just going to let me walk away.
If he walked away, he lost his express ticket. He would have to spend twelve grueling hours scaling the mana-infused valley walls while the Dread Commanders closed the distance from the south. Without knowing how much time he has left before an encounter with a dread commander or all four of them, He couldn’t afford a polite rejection. He needed to piss them off. He needed to force their hand.
"Right. Retrace my steps. Got it," Vince muttered.
He didn’t turn around. Instead, he calmly reached down, his fingers wrapping around a jagged, fist-sized stone embedded in the dirt trail. He weighed it in his palm for a fraction of a second, measuring the distance and trajectory with flawless geometric precision.
Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he hurled the stone straight at the lead scout.
CLANG.
The rock struck the center of the elf’s pristine, enchanted cerulean helmet with a loud, metallic ring, leaving a minor scuff mark on the polished surface before bouncing off into the mud.
For a terrifying, heavy beat, the forest went completely silent. The two scouts paused, their reptilian mounts turning their heads simultaneously as if the beasts themselves perfectly understood the sheer, suicidal audacity of the assignment.
The lead scout slowly reached up, touching the scuffed metal of his helmet. His eyes flared with a sudden, dangerous spark of irritation. Vince wasn’t a threat, but he was officially a nuisance.
Before Vince could even attempt a follow-up provocation, the lead scout’s mount moved. With a lightning-fast, highly trained reflex, the massive reptile whipped its heavy, scaled tail across the dirt trail.
The blunt force caught Vince squarely around the shins. The impact sent him flying directly backward into the air, his body lifting several feet off the ground. As he went airborne, the violent rush of wind caught the fabric of his deep hood. The dark cloth tore away from his face, and for a prolonged, suspended frame of time, the strands of his hair were lifted completely in the air—leaving his little, distinctly curved human ears entirely exposed to the open light.
The scouts’ eyes narrowed instantly, locking onto the shape of his ears as he fell.
THUD.
Vince crashed heavily onto his back against the damp forest floor, the wind knocking the air from his lungs. He groaned softly, his analytical mind already shifting to the next phase as he raised a hand to rub the back of his head, preparing to sit upright and assess the damage.
He didn’t get the chance.
Before his spine could even clear the dirt, two heavy, freezing-cold steel plates slammed down onto his wrists with a violent, metallic snap. The heavy iron shackles locked tight, biting into his skin with a weight that would have anchored a lesser man to the floor.
"Ouch. That hurt you damn giant lizard."
"Stay still, curved-ears," a harsh, venomous voice growled above him.
Vince lay flat on his back, staring up at the two scouts who were now looking down at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated hostility. The casual dismissiveness from before had completely vanished, replaced by an intense, razor-sharp military alertness.
Vince blinked, a rare look of dry disbelief crossing his features. He looked at the heavy iron bindings on his wrists, then up at the guards.
"So that was all it took?" Vince said out loud, a faint, cynical smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "My ears? And here I thought throwing the rock was a pretty solid effort."
"Silence, you imposter," the guard snapped, pulling violently on the chain of the shackles to hoist Vince to his feet.
They didn’t waste another second. The scouts marched him a few paces forward down the trail, dragging him directly into the main throat of the valley where the primary vanguard checkpoint was established. The moment they entered the perimeter, the lead scout raised his hand, signaling the heavy infantry guards stationed at the choke point.
"We have a breach," the scout announced loudly, pushing Vince forward into the clearing. "A magicless civilian with rounded ears and no native signature."
The reaction from the capital vanguard was instantaneous. The moment the high-tier guards recognized the physical traits of a human commoner standing deep within the restricted sovereign territory of the elves, the standard security protocol went into a state of hyper-drive. The air practically crackled with sudden military tension.
"A human? This deep into the province?" the vanguard captain muttered, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and immediate suspicion. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t order an interrogation on the spot. The security threshold of the capital had been breached by an unexpected creature, and the protocol for such a variable was absolute.
"Get him to the capital. Immediately," the captain roared, turning to his riders. "Do not wait for the secure carriages! Use the high-speed mounts!"
Within less than thirty seconds, Vince was violently hoisted onto the back of a massive, muscular white warhorse, his shackled hands forced down against the saddle pommel.
All this for one human who didn’t even fight back? Is the grudge between elves and humans really that deep?.
Vince thought
I bet fighting back would have triggered a mini Armageddon if they’re this startled by a defenseless boy.
An elite elven rider climbed up behind him, taking the reins with a white-knuckle grip. Two other vanguard guards instantly mounted separate, pure white horses, flanking Vince tightly on the left and right sides, their hands resting firmly on the hilts of their enchanted blades.
"Go! Breakneck speed! Direct to the High Court elders!"
"Aye sir!"
"Once you arrive at the court ask for everwood..." The lead vanguard continued "hand the boy over to him tell him there’s been a breach in the pact. He’ll know what to do."
"Aye sir!"
Breach in the pact?...
The rider behind Vince dug his spurs into the horse’s flanks. The three mounts reared back and erupted forward, turning into a desperate, furious blur of white and silver as they tore down the primary path toward the capital at a breakneck, sub-sonic gallop.
As the wind whipped violently against his bare face, Vince watched the ancient elven forest streak past him in a continuous smear of emerald green. Phase one of the calculation was complete. He was officially on the fastest express ticket in the empire, hand-delivered straight to the steps of the Elven High Court.
