Chapter 47: One date
The thick, bioluminescent roots of the isolation cell didn’t rustle; they simply parted with a low, wet grind as the heavy ironwood locking mechanisms uncoupled. The sudden influx of torchlight sliced through the absolute darkness, painting the damp, mossy walls in flickering shades of orange and gold.
Vince didn’t look up immediately. He remained casually leaned back against the smooth curve of the subterranean root structure, his arms resting loosely over his knees, his purple eyes tracking the shifting shadows on the floor.
The heavy, metallic thud of golden plate armor announced the arrival of the paladins, who stepped into the cell with their glowing halberds raised defensively. But they immediately split to the sides, lowering their heads in a synchronized, rigid bow as a towering, exceptionally voluptuous silhouette stepped through the threshold.
The Elven Queen stood just a step away from the cell with just the bars separating her from Vince, the tight constraints of the wooden walls only serving to emphasize her regal, domineering presence. Her full, sweeping hips shifted slightly as she came to a halt, her exceptionally busty frame rising and falling with a tense, controlled rhythm beneath her heavy military silks. Her flawless, sun-kissed face was entirely stone, but her deep amber eyes burned with a volatile mixture of pride, humiliation, and icy calculation.
For a long, heavy beat, neither of them spoke. The silence in the deep root cell was deafening, a quiet standoff between the ruler of an empire and a magicless prisoner in chains.
"You look stressed, Your Highness,"
Vince broke the silence, his voice a cool, deadpan ring that carried absolutely zero fear.
He didn’t stand up. He didn’t offer a bow. He simply looked her up and down with an unbothered, analytical gaze.
"Did your infallible equation run into an error?"
A sharp, collective intake of breath came from the paladins at the door, their grips tightening on their weapons at the blatant disrespect. But the Queen merely raised a single, elegant finger, freezing them in place.
"The southern provincial line has been entirely dismantled, and most of my elite guards dead."
the Queen spoke, her angelic voice dropping into a register of freezing, absolute stone that vibrated off the ironwood walls.
"A human clad in black iron armor is systematically vaporizing our border battalions. He calls himself Dread Commander Balthazar. And he is currently carving a direct path toward this capital with a singular demand."
She stepped closer to Vince, the hem of her emerald military robes brushing against his boots through the bars. She leaned down slightly, her piercing amber eyes boring straight into his purple ones, projecting the entire, suffocating weight of her royal authority.
"He wants you."
Vince let out a low, quiet chuckle beneath the shadow of his messy dark hair. He tilted his head back, staring directly into her eyes without flinching a single millimeter.
"Balthazar,"
Vince soliloquized internally, a dark smirk playing on his lips.
So the muscle-brained zealot is the one who caught my scent first. To be honest I was expecting the Assassin type to be the first one.
Vince focused back on the Queen, his expression shifting into a relaxed, mocking grin.
"I told you this Yesterday. I stood in your glorious courtroom, and I gave you the exact details of what was coming, the exact trajectory, and the exact consequences. But if I recall correctly, you told me that your sacred wards did not discriminate, and that within your borders, we humans are all one and the same."
He leaned forward, mockingly mirroring her posture. "How is that mindset working out for your troops right now?...if we’re all one and the same I guess you and your troops shouldn’t have a hard time dealing with Balthazar."
The Queen’s hand clenched into a tight fist beneath her wide silk sleeves, her nails digging into her palms as her ancient, royal pride fractured further down the middle.
She had lived for centuries, ruling over a pure-blooded domain where her word was absolute law, yet this magicless human was treating her catastrophic security breach like a joke.
"I did not come down to this darkness to trade barbs with a captive, boy,"
The Queen said softly, a trace of dangerous, volatile arrogance lacing her tone.
"I came to offer you a deployment. Your knowledge of this Balthazar is a tactical asset. You will provide our military elders with his structural weaknesses, his mana circulation flaws, and his tactical patterns. In exchange, I will allow you to walk freely amongst us as a hero to our race."
Vince’s grin only widened, his purple eyes flashing with a sharp, mocking light.
"A deployment?"
Vince scoffed flatly.
"You still don’t get it, do you? You think you’re holding a bargaining chip, but you’re actually holding a timer. Balthazar doesn’t have a standard mana circulation flaw. He doesn’t care about your military elders, and he certainly doesn’t care about these wooden roots. If I stay in this cell and let your vanguard handle him, your capital will be a pile of kindling by tomorrow morning."
The Queen stood back up to her full height, her amber eyes flaring with a sudden, lethal intensity.
"Do not overestimate your position, human. If the damage to my kingdom becomes too severe, I do not need to negotiate with you. I can simply drag you to the courtyard gates, cast you out of our territory, and let your pursuer have his prize. The moment you cross the leyline, he will leave our canopy in peace."
Vince didn’t look worried. He didn’t panic. Instead, he slowly pushed himself up from the ironwood root, standing completely upright. Thanks to his recent attribute allocation and the lineage essence upgrades, his physical presence had completely shifted. He didn’t possess mana, but the sheer, dense mass of his monstrous baseline radiated a physical gravity that made the surrounding paladins instinctively step back.
"You could do that,"
Vince agreed smoothly, locking eyes with her.
"You could throw me out right now. But let’s run the actual math on that scenario, Your Highness. Balthazar isn’t just a hunter; he’s a destroyer. Even if you hand me over on a silver platter, do you honestly believe a Dread Commander will just turn around and say ’thank you’ to a race of arrogant elves? He already knows your wards are vulnerable. He already knows your vanguard is weak. If I get handed over to him I won’t go down without a fight, and I can only imagine the gravity of damage your kingdom Will pay."
He stepped inside her personal space, his deadpan voice dropping into a low, thrilling register.
"Your kingdom is going to bleed either way. But I can stop him. I can eliminate Balthazar permanently, saving your heartwood and your people from total annihilation."
The Queen looked at him, her analytical mind desperately trying to find a flaw in his logic, but the sheer tactical reality of the situation was undeniable. Her border was gone. Her options were zero.
"And what,"
The Queen asked, her voice dropping into a quiet, dangerous whisper,
"is your price for this sudden act of charity?"
Vince’s grin returned, full of supreme, unbothered confidence. He leaned in slightly, his purple eyes scanning her flawless, sun-kissed features before stopping dead on her lips.
"Simple. If I go out there, take down the Dread Commander, and preserve your kingdom... you are going to go on a date with me."
The absolute audacity of the statement caused the entire cell to stagnate.
The two paladins at the door completely froze, their visors violently twitching as if their brains had completely short-circuited. For a human—a magicless, condemned trespasser—to demand a romantic engagement from the Sovereign Monarch of the Canopy was a crime that nearly cost him his head right then and there. The ambient air inside the room instantly plummeted below freezing as the Queen’s pure, high-tier mana flared like an active volcano, the pressure slamming against Vince’s chest like a physical wall.
"You dare insult the crown,"
The Queen hissed, her angelic voice vibrating with an intense, murderous rage that caused the ironwood roots around them to groan under the strain.
"It’s not an insult your highness, it’s a contract,"
Vince replied smoothly, acknowledging the crushing mana pressure suffocating the room. He held her furious gaze with a calm, unyielding smile.
"Take it or leave it, Your Highness. Your pride, or your kingdom. The clock is ticking toward sunset."
The Queen stared at him, her exceptionally busty frame heaving with erratic, furious breaths as her mind waged a massive internal war. Her absolute hatred for his human audacity rubbed violently against her supreme duty to protect her civilization. After a long, excruciatingly tense debate within her own mind, she slowly closed her eyes, her mana snapping back into a cold, suppressed hum.
"One date,"
the Queen reluctantly agreed, her voice dripping with an absolute, freezing venom as she snapped her eyes open.
"If you fail, or if a single branch of the capital tree falls, I will personally flay the skin from your bones."
She turned around with a violent swirl of her military silks, her full hips cutting through the torchlight as she marched out of the cell.
"Guards, release him to the armory."
As the royal escort hurried after their furious monarch, Vince remained standing in the center of the dark cell, his lips curling into a cold, predatory smile as the system interface quietly materialized across his vision, ready to facilitate his next massive power spike.
"Perfect,"
Vince whispered into the quiet dark.
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