Ardy sat in the corner of a stone cell, blood dried on his cheek, his arms heavy with iron cuffs that bit into his skin. The Elven patrol had captured him during the fall, dragging him through layers of fog to a massive marble-wood fortress carved into the cliffside. Their architecture glittered with runes—clean, pristine… too perfect.
He had been locked in their base's deepest chamber. One torch lit the space, casting flickers on moss-covered walls.
Outside the cell, the Elven Captain, the same one who had nearly fainted upon seeing him, stood pacing in her tent.
"How can a boy be that… handsome," she muttered. "Cute… hot… I want him."
Her cheeks flushed.
"If another female elf sees him… they'll definitely try to steal him from me."
She sighed and pressed her forehead against a carved pillar.
Because among Elves, beauty wasn't just admired—it was everything.
Narration: About Elves
> Elves were a people born from moonlight and water—naturally elegant, sharp, and highly aesthetic.
>
> They prized beauty in everything: clothing, food, art… and people. The most admired were often given rank simply for being visually appealing. Ugly or coarse appearances were shunned, exiled, or made servants.
>
> The harsh truth: in Elven culture, beauty was a currency. And Ardy, unintentionally, had shattered their scale.
---
News spread fast.
The Noble Lady of the Elf Kingdom, second only to the queen, came for inspection.
When the captain heard it, she gasped. "No… not today. Anyone but her."
She rushed out from her tent, intercepting the noble's escort line. "Lady Elionora, please, this facility isn't ready for inspection—"
Too late.
Lady Elionora entered. Silver-veined robes flowed behind her. Her sharp emerald eyes scanned the cells.
She stopped.
"What... is THAT?"
Her gaze locked on Ardy through the cell bars. A human. Dirty. Bleeding. Yet… glowing with unnatural charm.
Her voice turned cold. "Did he cross the border?"
The captain nodded hesitantly.
"Then he broke the treaty. Kill him. Drag him to the market. Execute him in front of the city."
"No, wait—"
"NOW."
Three guards entered Ardy's cell.
"Time to die, human."
One reached for his cuffs—but Ardy twisted his wrist, snapped the cuff hinge, and threw a kick that slammed into the nearest elf's gut.
They reeled. He flipped over a table, grabbed the broken chain, and whipped it around to block an arrow midair.
"Sorry, ladies," he growled, "I don't die easy."
He sprinted through the gate. Elves screamed.
Blades flashed. Arrows fired.
He jumped off a railing, rolled across a tiled platform, grabbed a spear off the wall and parried two incoming blows. His body twisted under a wind slash, and his elbow shattered another elf's jaw.
Ardy reached the edge of the compound. A tall cliff rose before him.
He turned—and threw his back hoodie up onto the mountain ridge for leverage.
He pulled himself upward, but the Elf soldiers closed in.
Magic bolts hissed past him.
He countered with melee: kicked off the edge and landed on two opponents, using a double sweep to knock them unconscious.
Another struck him from behind—he spun and hit back with a rising palm strike.
The fight was brutal. Every inch burned. He had barely recovered from the last battle—and still he fought like hell.
Finally, panting, he staggered through a gap in the trees, deeper into the forest.
The town awoke to chaos.
Guards shouted across the rooftops: "A human has breached the Elven Realm!"
Posters flew from every direction.
WANTED: HUMAN MALE — ARDY. DEAD OR ALIVE. REWARD: 100 GOLD COIN.
> (Narration: In this world, 100 Gold Coins equals roughly 72.10 million US dollars.)
People screamed. Merchants locked doors. Families whispered.
And the news reached the highest hall.
The Elf King sat in silence.
"A bounty? On a border-crosser?"
He turned to his advisor. "Find him. If the rumors about his beauty are true… he could ruin everything."
Meanwhile, Ardy collapsed against a tree. His legs gave out.
Sleep took him fast.
Morning light woke him. His vision blurred. He groaned and looked around.
"Still here…"
He wandered, trying to find a path—an opening. A way out.
Then—a rustle.
A team of elf soldiers surrounded him, weapons drawn.
"Don't move!"
Ardy clenched his fists and sprinted. He dove between two guards, grabbed a vine wall and swung himself through.
Arrows flew. Spears stabbed.
He ran harder—through thorns, mud, rising terrain.
Suddenly, the trees opened—
He had entered the town.
He turned sharply left.
The soldiers behind him stopped.
"What is he—"
Ardy saw a massive gate. Golden leaf carvings. Engraved with glowing runes. A place they wouldn't dare enter.
The Royal District.
Every elf stopped chasing. By law, no soldier entered without permission.
He walked slowly, breathing hard.
Then—his foot slipped.
Water splashed.
He had landed in an enormous bath pool—warm steam rising around him.
Ardy blinked.
Standing just feet away—in the same pool—were two figures:
The Elven Princess and the Elven Queen.
Wide-eyed. Speechless.
Ardy looked up slowly.
Water dripped from his hair.
"Oh…" he said. "I'm cooked."
The Princess screamed.
The Queen gasped.
"GUARDS!"