The moment Ryan stepped out of Kramas' damp, rat-infested quarters, he took a deep breath of fresh air and muttered, "Alright, part one starts now."
After finalizing their plan the previous night, Ryan had volunteered to investigate the source of the kingdom's sickness. Meanwhile, Denzel took on the more… diplomatic route: convincing the Princess to join their side. Or, as Ryan called it, "the most suicidal play ever."
Disguised as nothing more than a curious outsider, Ryan began walking around the Elven Kingdom. He intentionally looked aimless, pretending to marvel at the architecture and art. Of course, he knew he was being followed—these elves were good, but not that good. A shadow trailed him from rooftop to rooftop, but Ryan didn't make any suspicious moves. Just another clueless tourist.
By the time the sun began to set, Ryan had mapped out half the kingdom in his head. More importantly, he'd identified a key anomaly: the kingdom only had one main water source—the Zephyr River. Every home, bathhouse, and tavern tapped into it. And if the sickness was truly affecting the whole kingdom, then something was likely wrong with that river.
So naturally, he decided to hit up the tavern first.
[Tavern: Zephyr's End]
Ryan pushed open the door. Silence.
Every elf in the room turned toward him. Some were in leather armor, some looked like farmers or townsfolk. Others had the unmistakable aura of mercenaries. None looked welcoming.
Ryan strolled to the bar, pretending not to notice the glares.
"I'll take a cup of water, please," he said with a smile.
The barkeep, a woman with a scar over one eye, blinked. "A cup of water?" she echoed, then burst out laughing. "Did you hear that, folks?! The kid wants water!"
The entire tavern roared. Ryan's head hung low, but a sly grin crawled across his face.
Hook, line, sinker.
"I didn't say I can't drink—I just don't want to," he said with faux embarrassment.
The barkeep slammed a massive jug of frothy ale in front of him. "Prove it."
Ryan accepted the challenge. One jug became two. Then three. He never let on that his internal organs were on the verge of collapse. But it worked—the elves warmed up to him. By nightfall, Ryan had become the village idiot, and oddly enough, the local hero.
Word of the human who "couldn't hold his beer but held it anyway" spread. It even reached Kramas' ears.
"Poor fool thinks ale makes him invisible," Kramas chuckled, unaware that Ryan's buffoonery was a front.
Ryan hadn't wasted a single second. Between drinks and jokes, he'd pulled in a gold mine of gossip:
1. Princess Leah was being pushed to marry Kramas' son, Dulahan.
2. The Zephyr River had been glowing faintly some nights—unnatural, even by magical standards.
3. Kramas' soldiers were often seen heading into the forest but never with a clear purpose.
4. No one but the inner council knew what lay on the far western outskirts.
[Elsewhere – Royal Palace, Balcony]
Meanwhile, Denzel prepared for his mission. With the Psycho Mask on, all traces of his presence vanished. Not even the elves' heightened senses could detect him.
He scaled the palace like a ghost, sneaking past guards and magical wards until he reached the princess's balcony.
There she stood, bathed in moonlight. Princess Leah. Her silver hair flowed in the wind, and her expression was troubled. She clutched the railing with a mix of frustration and resignation.
"I'm not ready, Father," she whispered to herself. "Why can't you understand?"
She recalled King Vishorn's words earlier that week: "Leah, please. Marry him. Dulahan is strong, and Kramas is loyal."
She wanted to scream.
"I wish I could be free…" she muttered.
"You can," a voice said behind her.
Leah spun around. Nothing. No sound. No aura.
Then, out of the shadows stepped a figure clad in black and crimson. A red and black mask covered his face.
"I'm not here to harm you," Denzel said calmly. "I'm here to make you an offer."
Leah hesitated. For a moment, she considered calling the guards. But this man had evaded everything—her personal guards, the wards, even her own spiritual senses. He wasn't ordinary.
"I'm listening," she said warily.
"I want to stop Kramas. And I need your help to do it."
Her eyes narrowed. "What's in it for me?"
"Freedom. The right to choose your path. And the chance to save your people."
Denzel took a step back. "I'll return tomorrow. Think it over."
And just like that, he vanished into the night, leaving Princess Leah alone with her thoughts.
[Next Day]
The sun rose, and the humans didn't seem the least bit concerned.
Ryan returned to the tavern, as expected. This time, he drank a bit slower.
Denzel lounged outside like he had nothing better to do, eating fruit and waving at children like some washed-up noble.
The elves mocked them. Called them fools, drunkards, and cowards. Kramas watched from a distance, smiling. "They'll die in two days," he said to himself.
But the humans were only waiting for the right moment.
As dusk settled in, Ryan staggered out of the tavern, singing a song he made up on the spot. At one point, he took a sharp turn and vanished into the trees.
No one noticed.
Deep in the woods, Ryan wiped the dumb grin off his face and let out a long sigh. His eyes glowed faint yellow.
"Let's get this over with."
He moved quickly and quietly, hugging the riverbank. Every few minutes, he ducked behind trees to avoid patrolling elves.
They all had one thing in common—the same emblem: Kramas' family crest.
Too convenient.
Then, he saw it. The Zephyr River glowed faintly purple. For just a moment. Then the glow vanished.
He followed the current to its source and spotted it—a massive metallic pipe jutting from the forest floor, discharging a thick purple substance into the river.
Nearby, hidden between the trees, was a facility built into the earth itself.
Bingo.
Orcs moved in and out of the underground lair, carrying crates and barrels. Some of the barrels bore symbols of forbidden magic.
Ryan waited until the elves left and the orcs started eating. The moment their guard was down, he slipped inside.
The facility was massive. It looked like a fusion of elven craftsmanship and industrial sorcery. There were glowing conduits, strange blue fire powering arcane machines, and more ominous signs than Ryan cared to count.
He moved through hallway after hallway, avoiding patrols, until he found a heavy metal door with red letters:
"TOP SECRET – DO NOT ENTER."
"Nice," he whispered.
It wasn't locked.
Inside, he found scrolls, blueprints, documents—evidence of something massive. Weapons. Chemical enchantments. Names of villages.
Then he found what he was looking for: a ledger.
Ryan opened it. His eyes narrowed as he flipped through the pages.
"…this changes everything."
[To Be Continued]