Chapter 70: Warm Welcome

Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Warm Welcome

"A soldier does not fight because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him." — G.K. Chesterton

The morning mist clung to the ancient, silver barked trunks of the Elven Forest.

For a few moments, everything was quiet.

Then the canopy exploded into motion.

Three figures dropped from the branches without making a sound.

They landed in the clearing like falling leaves.

Riven’s hand immediately moved toward Garreth’s blade.

Nyx lifted her head from his shoulder.

The three elves wore shimmering armor woven from enchanted leaves and reinforced with starlight silver. Longbows hung across their backs, and each carried an elven sword at their side.

They were not frontier bandits.

They were trained soldiers.

At their head stood Captain Vaelen.

The high elf was tall and imposing, with golden eyes that seemed to measure everything around him. His expression was cold, rigid, and unmistakably arrogant.

His gaze immediately found Lyra.

"Princess Lyra."

His voice cut through the morning mist.

Lyra’s expression changed instantly.

Vaelen’s eyes traveled over her ruined traveling clothes, the dirt covering her boots, and the signs of the journey written across her face.

Then his gaze shifted to Riven.

The obsidian half mask.

The black cloak.

The shadow beast resting against his shoulder.

And finally, the blade at his side.

Vaelen’s expression hardened.

"You have caused a minor panic in the High Court by disappearing into the badlands."

His eyes narrowed.

"And you return escorted by a human mercenary?"

Lyra stepped forward.

"Captain Vaelen, lower your weapon."

Vaelen ignored the order.

"He is an outsider."

"He saved my life."

"That does not change what he is."

Lyra’s violet eyes flashed.

"He saved my life from assassins twice."

Vaelen’s hand slowly moved toward the jeweled hilt of his sword.

"He is a blood soaked killer carrying an underworld sword."

His gaze settled on Riven.

"Under elven law, unauthorized humans found this deep within protected territory are detained or terminated on sight."

Lyra’s expression darkened.

"Captain."

"Step away from him, Princess."

Vaelen finally drew his sword.

"I will clear this trash from the forest floor myself."

The clearing went silent.

Riven stared at him.

His core began to spin.

Mana circulated through his body, moving faster and faster until a faint pressure filled the air around him.

His muscles tightened.

His breathing slowed.

Every instinct he possessed told him the same thing.

Danger.

Riven’s fingers closed around the hilt of Garreth’s blade.

"Trash?"

His voice dropped into a cold whisper.

"Try it."

Vaelen’s face flushed.

"Insolent whelp."

He vanished.

Wind mana erupted beneath his feet.

Vaelen shot across the clearing in a burst of speed, his body becoming little more than a silver blur.

Fast.

Precise.

Designed to overwhelm an opponent before they could properly react.

His sword came down in a heavy vertical strike.

Riven did not retreat.

He drew Garreth’s blade.

Steel collided.

A muted clang out.

The impact shook the clearing.

Nearby ferns snapped beneath the shockwave, while dirt and moss erupted from beneath Riven’s boots.

His feet slid several inches backward.

His shoulders strained.

But he held.

Vaelen’s golden eyes widened.

He had expected the human teenager to collapse beneath the strength of a trained captain.

Instead, the boy was still standing.

Riven slowly raised his head.

His grey eyes stared through the obsidian mask.

Vaelen gritted his teeth.

He poured more mana into his blade.

He attacked again.

A slash.

A thrust.

A diagonal cut.

Then another.

Every movement was clean.

Disciplined.

Vaelen had clearly spent years training with the elven military.

There were no wasted movements.

No unnecessary flourishes.

Riven studied him.

The shifting weight.

The rotation of his hips.

The direction of his shoulders.

The slight movement of his eyes before every attack.

Predictable.

Not weak.

But predictable.

Riven waited.

Then moved.

Phantom Step activated.

His body slipped sideways as Vaelen’s sword passed through the space where his chest had been.

For an instant, a dense shadow afterimage remained behind him.

Vaelen’s blade tore through it.

The shadow collapsed.

Riven was already behind him.

Garreth’s blade grazed the captain’s chest.

His enchanted armor saving him.

White sparks erupted through the mist.

Vaelen twisted violently.

He barely managed to avoid losing his arm.

The blade instead carved a deep scratch across his silver chest plate.

A thin line of blood appeared across his cheek.

Vaelen stumbled backward.

His boots dug into the soil.

The two guards behind him immediately raised their bows.

Riven’s eyes shifted toward them.

Both bowstrings pulled tight.

Nyx’s lips peeled back.

A low hiss escaped her throat.

The clearing suddenly felt much colder.

Vaelen dropped to one knee.

His breathing had become heavier.

His eyes stared at Riven with disbelief.

He was young.

A child even.

Yet the boy standing in front of him moved like someone who had spent decades killing people.

Vaelen’s pride turned to anger.

Mana gathered in his palm.

Wind compressed around his hand.

Riven shifted his stance.

Shadow clung to his skin like living fire.

He was ready.

Then Lyra screamed.

"STOP!"

She moved between them.

Vaelen’s spell halted inches from completion.

Lyra stood directly in front of him, arms spread wide.

Her violet eyes burned with fury.

"If you lay another finger on him, Vaelen, I swear by the ancient bloodline that I will have your captain’s rank stripped before sunset!"

Her voice echoed through the trees.

Vaelen stared at her.

"He attacked me."

"You threatened him first."

"He is an outsider."

"He is my guest."

Lyra stepped closer.

"He is my savior."

Vaelen’s jaw tightened.

"You have no idea what kind of person you are defending."

"I know exactly what kind of person I am defending."

Lyra turned her head slightly.

Riven stood behind her.

His blade was still drawn.

His entire body remained tense.

Ready.

Waiting.

He had not moved because Lyra had stepped between them.

That realization struck Vaelen harder than anything else.

Lyra continued.

"If you touch him again, you will answer directly to the Queen."

The wind around Vaelen’s hand slowly faded.

His spell collapsed.

He lowered his arm.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Finally, Vaelen sheathed his sword.

The motion was sharp enough to make his anger obvious.

"Consider yourself fortunate, human."

His golden eyes remained fixed on Riven.

"The border gates await."

He paused.

"But make no mistake."

His expression hardened.

"You are walking into a cage."

Riven did not respond.

He slowly lowered Garreth’s blade.

Then he returned it to its scabbard.

Nyx hissed from his shoulder.

Her violet eyes remained fixed on Vaelen.

The captain stared at the little wyvern for a moment before turning away.

Lyra finally released the breath she had been holding.

She turned toward Riven.

Her anger disappeared almost instantly.

"Are you alright?"

Her voice was quiet now.

Riven looked down at her.

The violent rotation of his core gradually slowed.

The tension in his shoulders eased.

He adjusted his obsidian mask.

Then a faint smirk appeared beneath it.

"Always."

Lyra stared at him for a moment.

"You really are impossible."

Riven shrugged.

"People keep telling me that."

Nyx gave a quiet chirp.

Lyra couldn’t help smiling.

Vaelen turned toward the forest path.

"Enough."

His voice carried through the trees.

"We are leaving."

Lyra glanced at Riven.

Then she followed.

Riven walked beside her.

The ancient forest stretched ahead.

Somewhere beyond the trees waited the elven capital.

The High Court.

The Queen.