"We've been followed," Ryan said in a low, tense voice. Sparks of electricity danced along his arms, his stance steady. "And it's not wolves this time. Whoever they are, they're actually skilled."
Denzel's smile twitched. Somehow, despite his hypersensitivity, he hadn't even noticed the moment they were surrounded. It was humbling, honestly. He gave a short whistle of admiration. "Impressive. Ryan, dissipate your lightning or... well, you might end up crispy toast."
Ryan frowned but complied, letting the crackling energy fade. Moments later, three figures emerged from the underbrush with silent grace. They weren't human. Pale skin, long hair, and most distinctly—sharp, elongated ears. Elves. And judging from their expressions, they weren't here for tea and cookies.
One stood between the others, his posture regal, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. He radiated authority. Denzel narrowed his eyes. The golden hue in his aura—it couldn't be mistaken.
Royalty, Denzel thought, gulping. Using sign language, he told Ryan do not mess this up.
Ryan nodded. He wasn't stupid—reckless, sure, but not suicidal.
Denzel subtly activated [Appraisal].
[Leonis — LVL. 98]
[Race: Elf]
[Title: ???]
He almost choked on air. Ninety-eight?! Denzel and Ryan immediately withdrew their auras and raised their hands high, faces painted with exaggerated innocence.
"My lord, we come in peace," Denzel said, kneeling with all the respect he could muster. "We had no idea we trespassed upon sacred territory."
Leonis narrowed his eyes. "Strange. Outsiders who can recognize royalty at first glance. Intriguing. Suspicious, even." His voice carried the weight of command. "But that's not why I'm here. I'm here because something—or someone—is killing our forest guardians. And the trail led me to you."
"It was self-defense!" Denzel blurted, bowing even lower. "We were attacked, I swear. We didn't mean any harm!"
"Lies," Leonis growled. "You think you can fool me with petty words?"
He turned his back with a flick of his cape. "Theresa. Dash. Knock them out."
Before they could react, a sharp pain bloomed on the backs of their necks. Their vision spun, and darkness claimed them.
Denzel and Ryan woke up in what could only be described as an eco-friendly dungeon. Moss on the walls, leaf-mattresses, and the faint smell of compost. Cozy in a weird, druidic way.
Ryan groaned, rubbing his sore neck. "Ow. I thought we were dead, man. I saw the light. It had ears. Pointy ones."
"Morning already?" Denzel muttered, stretching like he'd just woken from a spa treatment.
Ryan blinked at him. "How are you this relaxed?! We're literally prisoners!"
"Check your system window," Denzel yawned.
[Quest: Find the Elven Village — COMPLETED]
[Leave the 1st Floor?] [Yes] [No]
"YES! Finally! Freedom!" Ryan nearly screamed.
"No," Denzel replied, casually tapping [No].
Ryan froze. "...What do you mean no?"
"I have a plan."
"We're gonna die."
The iron door creaked open before they could argue more. In stepped one of the elves from before—Theresa, tall, graceful, and utterly uninterested in small talk.
"Follow me," she ordered.
Their hands were bound in glowing chains as they were led through the Elven Kingdom. The streets were lined with curious, hostile elves. Murmurs and accusations followed them like flies.
"Those are the intruders?"
"They killed the guardians!"
"The blonde one's kinda cute though. Think he's single?"
Ryan shrank under the weight of the stares, especially the... unconventional compliments. "Kill me now," he whispered.
But something else caught his eye—purple splotches on the skin of several elves. A sickly hue. Even children bore the marks.
"Denzel," Ryan muttered, nudging him. "They're sick. I've seen this before… back on Earth. It's spreading."
Denzel nodded. "I noticed. This might be the leverage we need."
"Leverage? We're chained up, on death row!"
The royal palace loomed ahead—tall, majestic, and glowing with crystalline walls made of mana. Inside, the architecture was grander than any human construction Ryan had ever seen, shimmering with ethereal light. Everything gleamed in greens and silvers. Even the chandeliers had leaves.
They were escorted down an impossibly long hallway until they reached a towering set of double doors. The guards pushed them open to reveal the throne room.
And what a room it was.
An oppressive force pressed down on them, enough to make Ryan foam a little at the mouth. Denzel gritted his teeth to stay standing. At the summit of the room were four thrones, each occupied.
[King Vishorn — Middle Throne]
[Queen Melina — Beside Him]
[Prince Leonis — Left Throne]
[Princess Leah — Right Throne]
Eight other elves stood on the sides, clearly nobles or high-ranking elders. The atmosphere was tense, cold. Judgement loomed like a sword over their heads.
King Vishorn leaned forward, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel.
"These are the intruders?" he asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Theresa replied, bowing.
The king's eyes landed on Denzel and Ryan. "You have trespassed upon our land, attacked our guardians, and threatened the harmony of our forest. What say you in your defense?"
"We didn't know," Denzel said, kneeling again. "We truly thought we were just fighting off wild beasts. We didn't realize they were sacred."
Ryan, ever the emotional one, added, "We didn't mean any disrespect. But there's something else... your people—they're sick. I've seen that kind of sickness before. It spreads. Fast."
The room went quiet.
Whispers buzzed through the elders. The king raised a hand to silence them. "You speak of our affliction?"
"Yes," Ryan said, choosing honesty over self-preservation. "If we can help, maybe we can atone."
"You think you can solve what even our best healers cannot?" Queen Melina asked, eyebrow raised.
Denzel stepped forward. "We're not making promises. But we might have knowledge—at least enough to try something new."
A long pause.
Then King Vishorn leaned back on his throne, stroking his beard.
"We shall see."