The lush forest of Etheria began to thin, giving way to sparser groves and open terrain as the Stormrider Supreme Express IV approached the borderlands. Though no longer hemmed in by towering trees, the path was still flanked by copses of green, casting shifting shadows under the golden afternoon sun.
Fuhiken gently turned the steering wheel and brought the carriage to a stop behind a thick patch of bushes. The magical suspension purred into rest.
"We'll take a break here," he said, stepping down from the driver's seat. He gave the surrounding landscape a quick scan, his senses prickling. Something felt... off.
Behind him, the back wagon creaked as Adiw and the others hopped down. Inside the cabin, Orchid still snored softly, curled up like a cat on the cushioned bench.
"Let her sleep," Gabyola said, stretching her arms overhead. "She's less dangerous when unconscious. That way she won't poison us with another one of her 'culinary experiments.'"
"Oi, that's mean," murmured Kyle, chuckling. "But fair."
Fahleena was already busy unpacking her drawing kit from her magic bag, humming a triumphant tune as she laid out her supplies with theatrical flair. She placed a cloth mat on the grass and arranged her tools like a royal artisan preparing for a coronation, fine brushes, miniature jars of enchanted gold paint, a feathered palette, and even a portable easel with a miniature flag attached to the top.
With a gleam in her eyes, she marched to the front of the Stormrider Supreme Express IV and stood tall before its blank metal face. The setting sun reflected off the polished surface, making it glint like a knight's armor awaiting its heraldry.
"I'm going to paint the crest on the front and back," she declared proudly. "Like the ones on the sides, our glorious emblem!"
"Didn't we already have crests?" Jessica approached, curious.
"Sure, the sides are mine, but the front and back are still tragically blank! Once my artistic touch graces them, this carriage will radiate the aura of a legendary royal transport!" Fahleena grinned. She twirled her brush with theatrical flair.
Jessica stayed close, eyes following each golden line. She wouldn't say it aloud, but she genuinely admired Fahleena's talent.
Nearby, Sakura set out her picnic mat with practiced ease. Her hands moved quickly, sandwiches, dried fruits, a steaming flask, and three types of pudding emerged from her bag as if it were a bottomless pantry. Gigih wandered over and plopped down beside her, his nose buried in a thick spellbook. The scent of cinnamon buns made him glance up, but Sakura, munching cheerfully, didn't offer to share.
Adiw found an open space under a tree and unsheathed his massive two-handed sword, moving through silent swings like a living metronome. It was more ritual than training at this point, meditative.
Yetsan sat beside a small rock and removed his full helm. He sighed at the specks of dirt on it and immediately began polishing with such devotion it might as well have been holy work.
Fuhiken frowned at the forest beyond. "I'll do a quick patrol."
"Something wrong?" Sinryo asked, leaning against the wagon.
"Call it a hunch. Things always happen with a party like ours."
Sinryo chuckled. "Can't argue with that."
Fuhiken glanced around. "Gabyola, Kyle, Sinryo, you're with me. Yuuna, you want to come?"
Yuuna, who had been quietly taking notes on flora, nodded once. "I'll assist."
---
The five of them moved silently into the scattered woods, leaves rustling softly beneath their boots. As they weaved between tree trunks and low branches, Gabyola came to a halt atop a small rise and narrowed her eyes. She closed one eye, held her breath, and activated her skill, Hawkeye.
A subtle shimmer pulsed over her irises as her vision sharpened tenfold. Distant details snapped into focus: the swaying of tree leaves far ahead, the nervous twitch of a squirrel's tail, and, beyond the foliage, movement on the dirt road.
She raised her bow and pointed. "There. Two carriages, one large, one small... surrounded."
Her voice was calm, but the edge in her tone told them all they were right to be cautious.
A road stretched just beyond the forest's reach. A merchant's carriage drawn by two horses was halted mid-path, along with a smaller wagon. Both were surrounded by a pack of snarling, dark-furred wolves, Moonfangs, judging by their glowing eyes and twitching tails. Two towering trolls loomed behind them, their mottled skin glistening with sweat and moss.
Yuuna's eyes flicked across the scene. "Lagerda trolls. Strong, but slow." She tapped her wand against her palm. "It's like one of those cliché stories…"
"Cliché?" Kyle raised a brow.
Yuuna gave a tiny nod, adjusting her grip on the wand she always carried like a schoolteacher's pointer. "Yes. It's a storytelling pattern. In many tales, especially the shallow ones, you'll often see a helpless carriage under attack by monsters. The tension builds, the enemies close in, and then, right when all seems lost… a mysterious hero appears. Usually on a white horse."
"Of course it's a white horse." Sinryo snorted.
Yuuna continued, her expression unreadable. "The hero, clad in polished armor or a flowing cape, charges in gallantly, dispatches the monsters with impossible skill, and rescues everyone. Naturally, the merchant, or noble, inside the carriage turns out to be someone influential. They offer their thanks. Sometimes money. Often dinner. And almost always, they have a daughter."
"Let me guess." Gabyola raised an eyebrow.
Yuuna nodded. "She's young, beautiful, and conveniently single. She gazes at the hero, her eyes sparkling. It's love at first sight, supposedly. They ride off together, and the story ends with a wedding, a kiss, or some flowery line about destiny."
Kyle crossed his arms. "People actually write that kind of stuff?"
Yuuna's eyes narrowed just a little, lips curving into a flat line. "They do. Frequently. Especially in serialized novels or stage plays. The formula is safe. Predictable. And deeply unrealistic."
Fuhiken tilted his head. "Unrealistic how?"
Yuuna glanced at him. "Well… love at first sight doesn't usually apply to people with standard features and common backgrounds. These stories only work because the hero is always absurdly good-looking, rich, or secretly royalty. No one ever falls in love with the average guy who trips over his own sword."
At this, Gabyola, Kyle, and Sinryo all turned to stare pointedly at Fuhiken, whose handsome, prince-like features suddenly seemed far too convenient for the situation at hand. His sharp jawline and composed demeanor screamed "storybook protagonist!"
Fuhiken immediately held up his hands in protest. "Don't even think about it. First of all, we're kids, well, we look like kids, anyway, and kids shouldn't be discussing marriage prospects. Second, elves can't marry humans. There's never been a half-elf recorded in any history book I've read."
Kyle and Sinryo exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. "We're just messing with you, big brother," Kyle managed between chuckles. "Though you have to admit, you do fit the 'handsome hero' profile a little too well."
"So," Sinryo said with a mischievous grin, "are you planning to ride to their rescue? Complete the cliché?"
Fuhiken shook his head firmly. "I don't plan on becoming anyone's storybook hero today. Besides, we're too far away, and I'd rather not reveal our presence unnecessarily." He studied the scene thoughtfully. "But we can't just leave them to die either."
"So what's the plan?" Gabyola asked.
He turned to Gabyola and Kyle. "Think you two could handle this from range? Take out the monsters without showing ourselves?"
Kyle looked uncertain. "I mean, I can try, but my accuracy isn't exactly legendary yet..."
Yuuna considered the tactical situation. "Kyle, focus on the trolls. They're larger targets, and your mana bullets pack enough punch to take them down. Let Gabyola handle the wolves, her accuracy is already approaching legendary status."
Kyle adjusted the long rifle slung over his shoulder, pouring his mana into the chamber. He took a breath, aimed, and fired.
The shot rang out, clean, precise. The first troll's head snapped back. Another shot to the shoulder, stomach, knees, five in total to bring the monster down. The second troll collapsed moments later, riddled with invisible wounds. Kyle's accuracy was improving with each shot, his confidence growing as he found his rhythm.
Gabyola reached for a regular arrow from her quiver, fingers brushing the feathered shaft.
"Wait," Fuhiken said quietly, eyeing the distance. "Use a mana arrow instead. If we're staying out of sight, it's better if there's nothing left behind."
Gabyola hesitated for half a second, then gave a small nod. "Right. No evidence."
She stepped forward, drawing mana from within as she readied her bow. With a calm breath, she planted her feet and raised her bow. Her fingers moved with practiced elegance as she channeled mana into the wood, a soft golden glow enveloping her left palm, while a brighter shimmer gathered along her right. Between her hands, a glowing orange arrow formed, its shape sleek, ethereal, and pulsing with concentrated energy. The forest air grew still around her as she took aim, her expression serene yet focused. With a swift release, the first arrow streaked through the air like a ray of light, piercing a Moonfang's skull cleanly. It dropped without a sound. In one smooth motion, she conjured another, then another, each arrow loosed with the same graceful rhythm. The wolves had no time to react; they collapsed one after another, heads pierced by fading arrows that dissolved into harmless motes before ever hitting the ground. The clearing was silent again, swift, clean, and eerily beautiful.
---
At the carriages, the mercenaries stared wide-eyed. From their view, no one was around, just the eerie precision of ghostly arrows and bullets. In the window, a silhouette of a long-haired woman remained calm. A dapper old butler stood guard at the door, staff at the ready. When silence returned to the forest, the woman's voice filtered out through the window.
"…Let us wait. Surely our hero will arrive."
The minutes stretched on, but no heroic figure emerged from the forest. The wind rustled through the trees, and the forest slowly returned to its usual rhythm. The mercenaries shifted uneasily in their saddles, glancing around as if expecting someone to emerge from the shadows in grand fashion. Inside the carriage, the long-haired woman remained silent, her gaze fixed on the tree line with quiet anticipation. But no hero stepped forward. No figure clad in armor, no dramatic entrance, only the distant calls of birds and the fading scent of burnt mana in the air.
At last, the old butler adjusted his stance, his gloved hand brushing dust from his coat. He cleared his throat gently, the sound almost polite. "Madam, perhaps we should continue. We've lingered too long, and the road awaits."
The woman's voice carried a note of disappointment, but she agreed. "Very well. let us proceed."
The mercenaries slowly lowered their weapons, the tension in their shoulders easing as the last traces of magic faded into the air. One by one, they sheathed their swords with metallic clicks. A pair of them, those wielding spears and shields, glanced around warily before slinging their gear over their backs. Their eyes still darted toward the treeline, clearly unsettled.
"Did you see that arrow?" one whispered. "Didn't even make a sound."
"Straight through the head, clean. No trail, no blood. That's not normal."
"Must be some elite agent from the capital," another muttered, voice hushed with awe. "Or maybe a divine archer…"
"Whatever it is, I'm just glad they're on our side," a younger mercenary added, climbing onto the wagon with nervous haste.
The others followed, still murmuring half-believed guesses and theories as they took their seats.
At the carriage, the butler gave the treeline one last look, eyes calm, but calculating. With a quiet sigh, he climbed back into the driver's seat, reins in hand.
"Proceeding now," he announced in a courteous tone, flicking the reins lightly.
The horses snorted and pulled forward. The procession rolled on, creaking wheels and clopping hooves carrying the mysterious group back onto the winding road, leaving behind the forest that had watched in silence.
---
Back at the treeline, the hidden elves remained still as the last creak of carriage wheels faded into the distance. Leaves rustled gently above, and the forest regained its quiet, as if the earlier chaos had been no more than a passing breeze.
Yuuna lowered her wand, the glow fading from its tip. "Well," she said in her usual calm tone, "that was a new twist. The story played out without its hero."
She glanced at the path where the mysterious convoy had disappeared. "A textbook setup… and yet no dashing entrance, no glorious battle, no romantic finale. Just unseen arrows and vanishing bullets. Efficient. Clean. Completely anonymous."
Fuhiken folded his arms. "It worked. That's what matters."
Kyle gave a dry chuckle. "Awfully humble for someone who just played secret guardian."
Sinryo leaned in beside him, cupping his hands around his mouth like a storyteller preparing a grand tale. "And thus, the prince in hiding watched from the shadows, too noble to seek thanks, too handsome to be ignored..."
"...and too dramatic to just admit he enjoyed it," Kyle added with a smirk.
Fuhiken groaned and turned away. "Let's go before you start narrating a ballad."
Gabyola adjusted her quiver and fell into step beside him. "You have to admit though," she said lightly, "if someone paints a mural of this someday, you'll probably be wearing a cape."
Yuuna walked behind them, scribbling quietly in her notebook. "Unsung heroes remain unwritten only until a bard gets bored."
The group slipped back into the woods, silent laughter in their steps and fading rays of sunlight casting long shadows behind them. They returned to the Stormrider as the sun dipped below the horizon. The carriage glowed in the sunset light, golden crest freshly painted on its front and back.
Fahleena stepped back from her work, arms wide. "Behold! The final touch! Our carriage now looks like a royal envoy!"
"It's… sparkly," Jessica said.
"Fahleena, that's absolutely beautiful!" Gabyola exclaimed, her appreciation for artistry overriding her usual composed demeanor. "It looks like something belonging to legendary heroes."
Fahleena beamed with pride, her twin pink tails practically bouncing with excitement. "Thanks! I wanted something that would represent all of us, the Keyblade of Destiny and our connection to the mana tree seemed perfect."
Adiw, having finished his training routine, wiped sweat from his brow and approached the group. "Should we keep moving? We've still got a lot of ground to cover before we reach Machinia proper."
Fuhiken glanced at the sky, noting the sun's position. "Actually, it's getting close to sunset. We should make camp here for the night." He reached into his magic bag and pulled out their portable magic stove. "I'll get dinner started."
He knelt beside the clearing and reached into his magic bag, rummaging past bundled tools and neatly packed rations until his hand grasped the familiar frame of the magic stove. With a practiced motion, Fuhiken pulled it out and unfolded its legs. He placed it on a flat stone and inserted a fire mana stone into the chamber. A soft hum resonated from within as the stove awakened, its runes flickering to life with a gentle orange glow.
Orchid, who had finally awakened from her nap, immediately perked up at the mention of food preparation. "Oh! Let me help! I've been practicing a new recipe that, "
"NO!" The response was immediate and unanimous, coming from every party member within earshot.
Fuhiken diplomatically cleared his throat. "That's very kind of you, Orchid, but I've got it handled tonight."
Gabyola, recognizing the potential for disaster, smoothly intervened. "Orchid, why don't you come with me to gather some wildflowers? They'd make a lovely centerpiece for our camp."
Orchid's eyes lit up with innocent enthusiasm. "What a wonderful idea! I'd love to!"
As she skipped off cheerfully toward the meadow, Fuhiken let out a breath of relief and turned back to his task, stove now heating steadily, safe from culinary disaster.
Unexpectedly, Orchid returned with a five-colored flower shimmering with mana. Gabyola blinked. "You actually found one?"
Orchid grinned. "It called me!"
---
Campfire crackled to life. The aroma of properly cooked food filled the air. Adiw roasted meat skewers. Sakura passed around snacks. Kyle and Sinryo told exaggerated versions of the "invisible hero" tale, recasting Fuhiken as the unwilling prince-savior. Even Gigih cracked a smile.
The stars emerged one by one above their warm circle of laughter. Yuuna wrote in her notebook by firelight. The crest on the Stormrider glinted like it had always belonged.
No one mentioned the trolls again. No one had to. They were on the way to Machinia. The another journey had just begun.
---