Gerard glanced at the nameless knights. They silently observed the stranger.
The mysterious man broke the unsettling silence and said,
"I understand. A stranger showing up in the dead of night doesn't exactly scream trustworthy. But I assure you, I mean no harm. In truth, I'm heading to the Whispering Woods. A friend awaits me there."
[The Whispering Woods? Could it be a coincidence?]
The man continued,
"Judging by your appearance, I'd guess you're from the Luminous empire. Folks from the south don't usually venture here. But since you're here, you must either be heading toward Drak'thul or the Whispering Woods."
Gerard stared into the man's large eyes, which glimmered in the firelight, and replied,
"It doesn't matter where we're headed. Perhaps you should share more about yourself instead of prying into our affairs."
The man smiled and said,
"You're right. I'm a traveling minstrel, a bard coming from Drak'thul."
Gerard asked,
"Are you from there?"
The man chuckled.
"No. As you can see, I'm far too tall for a dwarf. I was there for work and am now headed toward Siralda."
Suspicious, Gerard narrowed his eyes.
"Siralda? Didn't you say you were heading to the Whispering Woods?"
"Correct. Siralda is what the elves call that region. If you haven't dealt with elves, it's natural that you wouldn't have heard the name."
"So, you're friends with the elves?"
The man shrugged.
"Friends? Not exactly. But we have a mutual understanding."
After a pause, Gerard sheathed his sword and gestured for the man to sit by the fire. He offered him a flask of water, which the man accepted with a warm smile.
After drinking, the man grinned and said,
"Now you can rest assured I'm no monster, right?"
Gerard didn't understand what he meant, but when he looked at the nameless knights, they nodded in satisfaction.
The knights had mixed some holy water with regular water before offering it to him. Monsters loathed the energy in holy water and would undoubtedly react if they consumed it.
The night passed in this manner, and morning came.
The sun rose over the high eastern walls, casting its rays over the land of Midragon. Now, the three knights, accompanied by their new companion who introduced himself as a traveling minstrel, set off toward the Whispering Woods.
They took a narrow path at the base of the mountain range, a trail mainly used by Aeloria merchants for trading with the elves.
The road was rough and treacherous, with seasonal streams crossing it and parts of the trail destroyed by erosion or protruding rock roots. Traversing this challenging path was difficult but unavoidable.
After a long ride, they reached the edge of the Whispering Woods. The dense vegetation and lack of any signs of human activity made it clear that few dared to enter this area.
The elves were famed for their legendary archery. Anyone who ventured into the forest, driven by greed for treasures or with plans to capture elves, would meet their end with an arrow between their eyes before they had the chance to defend themselves.
Gerard glanced around, particularly at the treetops. He knew the sentinels had already noticed their presence, but the fact that no arrows had been fired yet seemed like a good sign.
He turned to the wandering minstrel and asked,
"How far do you think we are from Siralda?"
The minstrel replied,
"Siralda isn't a city. The elves are free-spirited beings and consider the entire forest their home. So, I'd say we entered Siralda about half an hour ago."
Gerard stroked his chin.
"Hmm... but I haven't seen a single elf. Could they be hiding somewhere?"
The minstrel took a deep breath and let his gaze wander down the path.
"Well, with elves, anything is possible..."
Gerard glanced at the two nameless knights, who were busy surveying their surroundings, paying him no mind.
The Whispering Woods held an exceptional strategic position. If the Temple could use Harold's death and the threat of a holy war to subdue the elves, the gates of the Three Kingdoms would open to them.
This meant the Temple of Light could extend its influence across all lands, becoming more than just a religion confined to one region. This objective was of immense importance to the Temple.
In truth, it seemed they were even pleased about the incident with Harold. Ultimately, everything came down to a single goal—and what better goal than for their beliefs to spread across the world?
After several hours of riding, they were stopped by a patrol. A group of elven archers and swordsmen stood in their path, their demeanor suggesting they had been expecting the group.
Gerard was surprised but found the outcome of this encounter better than he had anticipated. There was only one issue: the elves did not seem friendly toward the minstrel. In fact, their glances rejected and belittled him.
This puzzled Gerard, as the man had claimed to be a friend of the elves. Their cold behavior rekindled suspicion in Gerard's mind.
How could this be considered friendly?
The elves led Gerard and his companions toward the heart of the forest. The further they went, the more elves they encountered: elves gathering forest herbs, small elven children playing hide-and-seek among the bushes, and young elves practicing with wooden weapons.
Their way of life bore little resemblance to that of humans.
Gerard glanced at the minstrel, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the sights around him. Meanwhile, the elves kept a watchful eye on the man, occasionally casting sharp, wary glances toward Gerard.
Eventually, they arrived at a place that could be called a village. A collection of treehouses connected by suspension bridges hung among the branches. Above them, green garlands made from the forest's tall trees cascaded down, like a rain of foliage draping over the homes.
Gerard asked, "How much farther?"
But the elves remained silent.
The minstrel, sensing the tension, spoke indirectly,
"It shouldn't be much farther now..."