Eon's heart felt like a hammer striking an anvil inside his chest. The sight before him was like a nightmare brought to life. The heavy iron gates of the Edger estate, which were not just open, they were shredded. One gate lay flat in the dirt, the thick metal twisted and curled as if a giant hand had squeezed it into a ball.
He stepped out of the carriage, his legs feeling heavy. He could see the front of the mansion. The beautiful marble steps were covered in glass and splinters. The massive oak front doors were gone, reduced to a pile of broken wood. Worst of all was the sound. Laughter. Loud, rough, drunken laughter echoed from the lawn.
About twenty men were scattered across the grass. They didn't look like soldiers. They wore mismatched armor, bits of rusted plate, boiled leather, and stained furs. They were tossing furniture out of the upstairs windows, cheering whenever a chair or a vase shattered on the ground below.
"I have to go," Eon whispered. His voice was low, but it carried a terrifying vibration. The air around him began to hum, and the grass at his feet started to wilt as his mana leaked out of his body like poison. "They're inside, Elsa. The children... the elves... they can't fight men like these."
He took a step forward, his eyes locked on the broken door.
"Eon, wait!"
Elsa grabbed his arm. She had to use both hands, digging her heels into the dirt to hold him back. He was surprisingly strong, fueled by a blind, desperate panic.
"Let go of me, Elsa," Eon hissed. He didn't turn to look at her. His focus was entirely on the mansion. "Every second I stand here, something happens to them. I won't let any of them die because I was too slow."
"And if you die?" Elsa shouted, her voice cracking. "If you barge in there and get a sword through your throat because you didn't look around first, who helps them then? Look at them, Eon! Look at them closely!"
Eon froze. He forced his eyes to focus.
"They aren't just bandits," Meron whispered from the shadows of the carriage. The old smith was now crouched low, his eyes wide with a different kind of fear. "I know that symbol on their leather. The cracked skull. Those are the Vulture Mercenaries. They are the worst kind of scum. They don't fight for honor; they follow armies and pick at the bodies. If they are here, it means they were invited. They don't attack a noble house unless they know they can win for sure."
"He's right," Carla added, her voice trembling as she hid behind Elsa. "If we just run in, they'll use the people inside as shields. We don't know where the others are. We don't know if they're even in the house."
Eon took a long, shuddering breath. He felt the cold air fill his lungs, cooling the fire in his blood. He was Jin-ho, a man who had played strategy games and read a thousand books about heroes. But he was also Eon, a High Elf with the power to level this entire estate. He had to find the balance between them. If he let his past haunt him like this, then this time he really will be too late.
"You're right," Eon said, his voice finally becoming calm, a cold, sharp kind of calm that was much scarier than his rage. "We don't go through the front. We go through the shadows. Meron, stay with the carriage. If anyone comes near, hide in the trees. Carla, Elsa... with me. We're going to the mansions back entrance."
One day ago:
In the deepest part of the dungeon, the air smelled of wet stone and old blood. Alaric Denares sat on the floor of his cell, his head resting against the cold iron bars. The slave collar around his neck was a constant weight, a cold reminder of his defeat. Next to him, his brother Darius was curled in a ball, his breathing shallow. Darius hadn't been the same since the "mana turmoil" Eon had inflicted on them. He spent most of his time in a daze, his mind broken by the pressure.
Suddenly, the torch flickering on the wall went out. The darkness became absolute for a heartbeat, and then, two shapes began to rise from the floor.
They looked like ink being poured into water. The Shadow Mages, the elite mercenaries Alaric had paid a fortune to hire, stood before the bars. They wore masks of black silk, and their eyes glowed with a faint, purple light.
"You're late," Alaric growled. He didn't look up. "I've been sitting in my own filth for twenty-four hours while you two played in the garden."
"We could not reach you, Master," the taller mage said. His voice sounded like two dry leaves rubbing together. "The room where you held your meeting... it was protected by an illusion of incredible power. One moment, we were watching you talk to the elf. The next, the room was empty. It looked like a common drawing room. We spent some time trying to find the hidden door, only to realize we were in the wrong room front he beginning, we had been folded by some kind of magic."
Alaric's jaw tightened. "An illusion? But I was standing right there! I felt the floor under my feet!"
"That is why it was so dangerous," the mage replied. "It wasn't just a trick for the eyes. It was a trick for the mind. By the time we broke through, you were already in these cells, and that Elf had already hidden the key rings for these collar on your neck."
Alaric stood up slowly, the chains on his neck was rattling. "Did you find the keys? Tell me you have the keys to these collars."
They shaked their head. Saying no.
"We have searched every inch of the Count's office discreetly," the mage said. "We even searched the elf's personal room. We found no keys. I think these collars... they aren't mechanical. They must be bound by a soul-contract. To remove them, we would have to kill the one who placed them, or find a mage even more powerful than him."
Alaric slammed his fist against the bars, the sound echoing through the dungeon and waking some of the other prisonerson his cell. "Well, you are wrong. How come you dont know about the soul breaker collar?! It is a legendary artifact, made by some of the highly skilled dwarves. It cannot be unlocked just by killing him."
"So It is not that simple? Huh…," the mage was out of ideas. "The elf is not alone. And there is another problem. Lady Elora."
Alaric froze. "What about my sister?"
"She is not a prisoner," the mage said. "She has been seen in the kitchens, helping the elven servants. She ate a meal with them this morning. She is staying with them willingly, Master."
Alaric's face went red with fury. He grabbed the bars so hard his knuckles turned white. "That little…She's always had a soft heart for the 'beasts.' She's probably telling that elf all our family secrets right now."
He leaned his forehead against the iron, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I don't care if she wants to stay. You will attack when the elf mage is nowhere around. Make sure to not kill anyone. They might be valuable as hostages. Do you understand? And as for that elf... I want him alive. I want to see the look on his face when I show him what a real monster looks like. No matter what dont attack when he is around. He might activate the ring."
"The ring sir?"
"Mana turmoil ring. It is on his finger. But i doubt it is the real key. If it was then he wouldnt roam around with it."
"We will move the mercenaries into positionwhen that elf is nowhere to be seen," the mage bowed. "When the distraction is done, We will return for you."
The shadows swirled again, and the cell was empty. Alaric looked at his sleeping brother and let out a jagged, hateful laugh.
Back to the present:
Three hundred yards away, high in the canopy of an ancient oak tree, Selena sat as still as a statue. She was a master of the "Unseen Path," a specialized form of magic that didn't just hide her body, but also suppressed her scent and her heat. To anyone on the ground, she was just another branch.
Beside her, Lyssa was crouched on a different limb, holding a small brass tube to her eye. It was a Far-Seer lens, enchanted to see through light illusions.
"They're moving," Lyssa whispered. "The three of them. They left the carriage with the old man and are heading toward the servant's gate. They're staying in the high grass."
Selena didn't need the lens. Her eyes were naturally sharp, a trait of being a invisible knight. She watched the hooded figure in the lead. Even through the thick fabric of the hoodie, his movements were impossible to ignore. He moved with a feline grace.
"Look closely at his ears when the wind blows the hood," Selena said, her voice full of wonder. "They're long. Much longer than a human. He must be a Elf."
Lyssa lowered the lens, her face pale. "Selena, we need to leave. Right now. If that's really a Elf, then we are in way over our heads. Those things are dangerous.' if it was a chained Elf, then no problem. But a free one? They are living calamities. If he senses us, we won't even have time to scream."
"Don't be a coward, Lyssa," Selena snapped, though her own heart was racing. "We knew elves were rumored to be roaming around the count's house. So its natural to see a elf now. Isnt it? Think about it. A Elf, hidden in a dying county, living in the house of a bankrupt Count. This is the biggest secret in the kingdom. If we bring this intel back to Thorne, you won't just be scouts anymore. you'll be heroes."
"Or I'll be dead. You might survive, being a invisible knightand all. But what about me?," Lyssa countered. "The mansion is crawling with Vulture Mercenaries. Who knows how many Shadow Mages are inside. And now we have a pissed-off High Elf going in for blood. This isn't a mission anymore; it's a slaughterhouse."
Selena watched as Eon reached the stone wall of the mansion. He placed a hand on the rock, and for a second, the stones seemed to pulse with a faint, blue light. A section of the wall simply dissolved, creating a silent opening for them to crawl through.
Selena's eyes widened. "Matter manipulation? Without a chant? Without a circle? "
A hungry, ambitious grin spread across her face. She wasn't just looking at a target anymore; she was looking at a golden ticket.
"We aren't leaving," Selena said, her voice firm. "We follow them. We might find a chance to get in as undercover agent. If we see any opening to fit ourselves them dont loose it. Okay? "
Lyssa groaned, but she drew her twin daggers, the dark metal reflecting no light. "Fine. But if I die, I'm going to spend the rest of eternity telling you 'I told you so'."
Selena didn't respond. she just dropped from the branch, landing silently in the grass like a falling leaf. The hunt was on.
Eon crawled through the hole he had created in the wall, Elsa and Carla following close behind. They were now in the laundry room, a small, humid space filled with large wooden tubs and the smell of dirty cloths.
Outside the door, he could hear the heavy thud of boots on the wooden floorboards of the hallway.
"Find the silver!" a voice shouted. "The boss said anything shiny belongs to us! Don't let the boys in the kitchen take the good stuff!"
Eon felt Elsa's hand on his shoulder. She was shaking, but her grip was firm.
"We go to the kitchen first," Eon whispered, his voice as cold as ice. "That's where the children would be. If they're there, we get them out. If they aren't..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. The silver light in his eyes was glowing brighter now, casting a ghostly radiance over his face. He reached into his inventory and pulled out the dagger he had made that morning.
The "Industrial Revolution" was on hold. For now, it was time for a different kind of work.
"Stay close," Eon commanded. "If a fight starts, stay behind me. I'm not losing anyone else today."
He pushed the laundry room door open a crack. The hallway was filled with the shadows of men, and the air was thick with the scent of impending violence. Eon stepped out, his hoodie pulled low, a ghost in his own home.
The battle for the Edger estate had truly begun.
Author note: Intense battle awaits us. To read the chapters ahead of others visit my patreon page.
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