The sun was just rising, casting light over the imposing walls of Bytea—a city with an austere, disciplined appearance, prepared for conflict and unexpected situations, worthy of the empire of Algorythia. Located on the southern border of the elven kingdom and to the west of the kingdom of Vectoris, Bytea represented the empire's first line of defense. Its walls, built from thick, gray stones, rose to challenge the very sky. Atop these walls stood archers and battle mages, vigilant to any movement on the horizon. The empire's flag fluttered proudly from every tower, reminding all who saw it of Algorythia's power and its determination to rule these lands.
However, constant vigilance wasn't always necessary; after all, the southern elves never sent troops toward the empire. Their kingdom was protected by a vast, impenetrable barrier that only those born within its lands, people or animals, could cross, allowing them to live comfortably without concern for other nations. If this non-expansionist country ever found itself in conflict, it was likely that the other party was to blame. Thus, the empire sent troops up to the very edge of the elves' agreed borders, encroaching to the point of nearly touching their barrier. This led the elves to deploy troops outside their barrier to defend their boundaries—after all, the barrier couldn't entirely cover their territory.
As for the kingdom of Vectoris, other imperial cities bordered that country, where skirmishes were an almost daily occurrence, unavoidable in nature. Still, there was no urgent need for constant alertness against spotting Vectoris soldiers at the gates of Bytea. If they were to arrive, it would mean doffing one's hat to the bravery of those few, exhausted soldiers who managed to cross the unforgiving Semaris desert, with its poisonous sands, and the formidable Lughwood Forest, home to massive beasts no man could stand against. It was unrealistic to send troops through such hostile lands; just imagining the number of casualties and resources required for such a feat made the idea a logistical nightmare from a military standpoint.
Beneath the imposing walls lay the main gates, which opened at dawn to allow entry to a line of travelers and merchants who had begun to gather even before the first ray of sunlight. They came from all corners of the empire from nearby villages to far away cities, bringing stories, food, resources, materials, furnitures, and an array of weapons. Warriors, traders, and villagers arrived to trade their goods in Bytea in hope to get money or services in exchange. Although some carried swords, spears, and visible bows, the guards of Bytea rarely bothered to confiscate their gear. The routine at the entrance was quick and efficient; guards watched with a firm gaze, evaluating each newcomer with sharp eyes, but seldom confiscated weapons. In Bytea, it was customary to rely on the strength and skill of its own soldiers, who could maintain order even if the city filled with armed foreigners. In the empire, it was seen as fair that any warrior carry their combat tools—a reflection of respect toward the imperial warrior culture, where weapons were carried as an extension of one's identity.
Besides in a city where half the threat could come from the mages crossing its gates, seizing weapons was a futile effort. Magic escaped the control of simple human rules; a mage could summon power without the need for swords or bows, which made it clear that Bytea relied more on the strength of its guardians than on superficial security measures. Each guard knew that in a crisis, it would be their skill and experience that mattered, not the regulations.
Roderick, the commander of Bytea's forces and the right hand of Duke Thalion Coreline, observed the activity at the entrance from a short distance. His imposing figure stood out even among his own men, a symbol of authority and strength honed through years of service and countless battle scars. He walked with a firm, heavy stride, the echo of his armor ringing on the stone, while his eyes scanned every detail with an almost feverish attention. As he passed by, the guards saluted him with respect, well aware of his reputation.
Roderick: Any incidents?
Guard: Nothing out of the ordinary, commander. Just a couple of merchants and some villagers. Nothing noteworthy to report.
Roderick nodded, continuing his observation, his dark and calculating gaze assessing each face, each gesture of those entering Bytea. He could read intentions in people's eyes, and although the situation seemed calm, he never lowered his guard. The border was a place where appearances could change in an instant, and Roderick knew this better than anyone.
Despite his position and the admiration he inspired in his soldiers, Roderick felt the weight of an invisible chain. He had reached a peak that, far from freeing him, kept him captive in a monotonous and predictable routine. The thrill of unpredictable battles, where every fight was a test and a chance to prove himself, was now a distant memory. In the high command, security and order were paramount, and conflicts among officers were strictly regulated; the empire tolerated no internal rivalries that could threaten its stability.
Roderick felt like a hunting dog, faithful and loyal, but held back by a leash that prevented him from running freely. Behind him, the empire seemed content to keep him in Bytea, watching as others faced the challenges he longed for. Day after day, the horizon beyond Bytea's walls called to him, but his position, his duties, and the empire's rigid rules stood as an unbreakable barrier.
At times, in the solitude of his mind, he fantasized about an opportunity—a moment when he could break these invisible chains and prove his worth once more so that he could return to the capital and rejoin the Empire's main forces. He yearned to improve and be part of the most significant events in the empire. He knew he still had more to give, that his story had not yet reached its end. For now, he could only watch the gates of Bytea with the silent hope that one day, something or someone would cross those walls and grant him the chance to be the warrior he once was.
Turning abruptly,
Roderick: Hey, didn't you feel someone pass by us just now?
Guard: Sir, I'm sorry. It might have been something beyond my level of perception, but I didn't see anyone.
Roderick possessed a high level of perception—a talent he had developed after spending so much time as a warrior, allowing him to survive ambushes and never be caught off guard. However, this talent wasn't entirely reliable; sometimes, it was simply due to his imagination and overthinking, a side effect of mental fatigue. So, this could well be one of those times. There was certainly no one around, and not enough time had passed for anyone who might have been there to vanish from their sight.
Roderick: Sorry, I must have drunk too much last night.
Noticing that things seemed calm, Roderick approached one of the walls, looking around with feigned indifference. Then, without much ceremony, he moved a slightly protruding brick and retrieved a bottle of wine and some wooden cups he had stashed away. With a faint smile, he turned to the guard standing nearby, vigilant yet curious.
Roderick: Drink?
The guard, surprised by the gesture, looked at his commander with some hesitation, but the invitation was clear. He hesitated for a second before nodding, feeling lucky to receive such attention from someone of such high rank.
Guard: Thank you, commander. Not something one would expect on a morning shift, but... I'm not complaining.
Roderick: The morning is long, and the work... sometimes it's more repetitive than it seems from the outside. A bit of wine helps break the monotony, don't you think?
Guard: I wouldn't tell other officers, but yes, I get what you mean. It's always the same here at the gate... the same every day.
Roderick: (taking a sip and looking at the horizon) Believe me, rank doesn't change that. Sometimes, reaching the top takes all the thrill out of the journey. There aren't always interesting challenges in the higher ranks.
Guard: But... Commander, aren't you in charge of Bytea's entire defense? I'd think that would be... exciting.
Roderick: (chuckles softly) Yes, "exciting." But, in reality, most of the time, it just means keeping routine, peace... maintaining everything exactly as it is. From the winning side, everything seems easy. The Empire's militia is so strong and organized that neither mercenaries nor criminal gangs can take a second step against us without being crushed. Sometimes... you start to miss those days when things were more uncertain, when every fight was a gamble.
Guard: I see, so for you, Commander... Well, from our perspective, those of us less powerful, we appreciate this peace. You're the exact opposite of a friend of mine who always takes the easy path in life.
Guard: Ah, sorry, Commander, I didn't mean to compare you to my friend.
Roderick: No worries. That's how conversations go between comrades, right? Besides, tell me more about this friend of yours. It's not like there's much to do this morning.
Guard: Well, he was a real fool. We grew up in the same village, and he did nothing but cause trouble. When I first came here, he snuck onto my father's carriage and stirred up all sorts of mischief. He was the kind of person with no scruples, who'd do anything for easy money and cause problems for others. The last I heard, he'd gotten involved in some shady business... something related to elf trafficking—my god, that Rolan was a real headache.
Roderick: (with interest) Elves...
Roderick: I see; it seems we've all known someone like that at some point.
Roderick: Tell me, have you ever considered joining the offensive? You could gain achievements and advance.
Guard: I'm not sure, Commander. Honestly, I'm not very strong, and I've always sought stability, not glory. My family feels safer knowing I'm secure, and I... well, maybe I'm more practical than brave.
Roderick: Sometimes, stability is the hardest thing to maintain, don't you think? In the end, it only takes one order from above for that stability to crumble, which is why one should prioritize personal strength above all.
At that moment, a messenger appeared running along the wall corridor, stopping when he saw Roderick and the guard with the wine bottle.
Messenger: Commander Roderick! Duke Coreline requests your presence at the mansion... as soon as possible.
Roderick put the bottle back in his hiding spot and looked at the guard with a slight smile, sharing one last gesture of camaraderie before returning to his role as commander.
The residence, located in the heart of Bytea, was an imposing symbol of the empire's authority in this border city. The dark stone walls and the elevated portico marked a solemn presence, and along the halls and entrances, perfectly uniformed guards stood in positions of firmness and respect.
Upon entering, Roderick noticed the opulent details of the interior decor. Bronze chandeliers lit the spacious rooms, casting a warm glow over marble-clad walls. On one of the main walls hung a series of portraits of the duke's bloodline, each carefully framed. The faces of the Coreline ancestors looked out with serene and proud expressions, reminding all of the weight of generations of nobility and military responsibility in the Empire.
In the center of the main hall, surrounded by carved columns, awaited Duke Thalion Bytus Coreline. Though not a warrior in the traditional sense, his bearing was imposing. He had a robust build and a stern expression, reflecting a life in which, despite his noble lineage, he had had to adapt to the demands of an empire centered on military discipline. In the Empire, being noble meant more than holding a title; it demanded toughness, resilience, and a martial disposition that contrasted with the refined image one might find among the Kingdom's nobles. The duke's eyes, dark and piercing, fixed on Roderick, evaluating him with a look that only someone forged in the Empire's intrigues and rigors could have—a gaze that understood discipline and what it truly took to survive in a world where strength was everything.
With a tone of pride and authority, Thalion addressed Roderick.
Thalion: At last, you've arrived, Roderick.
Roderick quickly bowed.
Roderick: At your orders, my lord.
Thalion: Tell me, how have things been with Bytea's defense these last few days? Any notable changes or incidents?
Roderick: Everything has followed its usual course, Duke. The gates open every morning for travelers and merchants, and the guards have maintained discipline. We haven't had any significant conflicts or detected any recent threats in the vicinity.
Thalion: Good, that's as it should be. But... haven't you noticed anything unusual? Any out-of-the-ordinary behavior among travelers or your men?
Roderick: (seriously) Nothing out of the ordinary, sir. Just the typical matters of the border, although I must admit the influx of outsiders has increased in recent days, but that only demonstrates the city's prosperity. Some of our men mentioned seeing new faces, but nothing that seemed a threat, at least for now.
Thalion: (nodding slowly) Keep up the vigilance. In times like these, even the smallest irregularity can hide a dangerous shadow.
Roderick: Understood, my lord. I will continue prioritizing surveillance if necessary and ensure that any anomaly is reported immediately.
Thalion: Excellent. Now, allow me to tell you the main reason I called you here today.
Roderick raised an eyebrow, wondering what it could be about.
Thalion: You see, I sent Kaelion on a mission a week ago, and he still hasn't returned. I've also lost contact with the rest of his squad that I sent with him.
Roderick: Kaelion...? Are you talking about that Kaelion Mondrake?
Roderick's surprise was understandable, as Kaelion Mondrake was none other than Bytea's best mage, one of the few people in the city capable of rivaling him. Although Roderick was a warrior and Kaelion a mage, if they faced off, Kaelion could emerge victorious, depending on the circumstances.
For someone of that caliber to fail a mission in such a dull place... it could only mean one thing.
Roderick: Treason or...?
Thalion: Probably not what you think. I have no reason to suspect Kaelion would betray me; after all, I have an agreement with him.
Roderick: Then, what could it be about?
Thalion: The mission I assigned him was related to the elven slave trade.
Roderick: Elven trafficking...?
As Roderick murmured, he began to grasp the situation. Elves were known for their beauty, and more importantly, they didn't age, maintaining that beauty no matter how much time passed. This made them far more valuable than other slaves. The price of one of these slaves was so high that even a common person, saving their entire life, couldn't afford it; they were likely sold to other nobles in the empire. He had heard rumors about nomadic elves still inhabiting the Lughwood forest, and with no nation to protect them, they became easy targets for capture. It wasn't an honorable job, but it was profitable, and in these lands, the duke had enough power to monopolize it by force, since no group of mercenary organizations that wanted to engage in the same business could stand up to the duke's power and money; they were very likely to disappear if they tried to compete with him. The situation was becoming clearer.
Of course, it wasn't as if Roderick cared about what the duke did with the elves. After all, in this country, the law of the strongest ruled. However, he still hadn't connected all this to the current situation.
Thalion: About a week ago, I sent some of my men to capture elves after a small raid on their village as they were migrating. But they never came back, and we lost contact with them.
Thalion: To resolve the situation, I deployed Kaelion. But, to my surprise, the result was the same.
Roderick: You mean there were elves among them capable of rivaling Kaelion?
Thalion: Not exactly.
Thalion: To track and hunt elves around the forest, we've been using a tribe of warrior elves called Zhyrithia. They also participated in the last mission I sent Kaelion on. We promised them a place in the empire if they cooperated, but it seems that, in the end, none of those fools are civilized.
Roderick: I see, so they betrayed Kaelion during the mission.
Thalion: That's the most likely scenario.
Roderick: So what do you want me to do? Should I organize a rescue team to retrieve Kaelion, or should I launch an attack to burn their village?
Thalion: That won't be necessary, Kaelion is probably already dead. Though it was a surprise, we cannot deny they have someone capable among them, so we cannot act recklessly. Also, if you burn the forest, you'll provoke the beasts that inhabit it, and they could head towards the city. We no longer have Kaelion to extinguish the fires, so I'll have to prepare a unit of water mages for the attack.
Thalion: For now, I'll send reconnaissance teams. Once we confirm the exact location of their village and assess their strength, you and the captain will lead the siege. I want you to capture their women.
The captain was a fire mage capable of rivaling Kaelion; her talent was undeniable. However, she was still very inexperienced: she lacked battlefield experience and needed to improve the leadership she exercised over her subordinates. If both of them joined forces, they would undoubtedly be more than enough to deal with any rebellious tribe in the forest.
Thalion paused, his eyes fixed on Roderick, as if measuring his loyalty and determination with every word.
Thalion: Also, increase surveillance at night. It's customary for those elves to send assassins under the cover of darkness. I don't want us to be caught off guard.
Thalion's voice, always controlled and with an authoritative tone, was a reminder to Roderick of his superior's experience and skill. Although Roderick was stronger in combat, his five years of service in this city paled in comparison to the years of conflicts and conquests against the elves that the Duke and his predecessors had under their belts. Thalion had earned a special place of respect; few leaders could match him in strategy and vision for defeating the elves. To Roderick, Thalion was the strategist who ensured victory with every move, a figure who always seemed to have control, no matter the situation.
Thalion: And this is just the beginning. Roderick, I want you to update the offensive on the situation. Also, contact the captain for a meeting tonight. Once we have gathered enough information, we will begin the counterattack in the name of the empire.
Roderick nodded, listening carefully to each instruction. He knew Thalion had an infallible instinct when it came to these rebellious elves. And although his combat experience was considerable, he relied on his superior's intuition and expertise to guide the plan. Thalion was not just his leader; he was the mastermind who seemed to anticipate the movements of their enemies.
Thalion: And remember, when the time comes, I want there to be no doubt about who rules these lands.
Roderick: Understood, it will be as you order.
Roderick: But I have a question. Could it be possible that the southern elves have contacted the elves of Zhyrithia?
Thalion: I understand your doubts, Roderick. It's not as if i hadn't thought about it; it would make sense that the determining factor for the forest elves to rebel was that they had the power of the southern elves backing them.
Thalion: But let me tell you that such a thing is very unlikely. The empire has 200 years of conflict history with the Elven Kingdom, and there has never been any precedent for them taking military action outside their country. If that were true, it would imply that new reforms were being implemented in the Elven Kingdom, which is also very unlikely since their king has remained the same for over 200 years.
Roderick: I see... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dispute your judgment.
Thalion: Don't worry, Roderick; it wouldn't be far-fetched for such things to happen. After all, even the elves are not exempt from internal uprisings like the humans. Your opinion is valuable.
Roderick: Thank you, my lord.
After a few more minutes of conversation about the details of the situation, Roderick left the Duke's mansion, his mind wrapped around the details of the mission, his heart beating with restrained excitement. A feeling of anticipation began to grow in his chest. Could this be the confrontation he had been waiting for? If there truly was someone among his enemies capable of defeating Kaelion, he would finally have the opportunity to fight in a battle where the scales were balanced, where every strike and every decision would truly make a difference.
The Empire, invincible and overwhelming, had always ensured his success, and Roderick was used to being on the winning side. However, this time, the possibility that reinforcements might not arrive in time left him alone in the face of danger, depending solely on his strength and decisions. A unique opportunity, a battlefield with no margin for error. Clenching his fists and holding back a smile that threatened to form on his lips, Roderick headed home, savoring the prelude to the battle that was approaching, one where he could finally prove himself.
[Separator]
The militia's training hall was filled with echoes and disciplined movements in the early hours of the morning. It was a spacious area, designed to withstand the rigors of combat practice. At one end of the field, warriors trained in silence, their weapons clashing and their stances firm in each attack and defense. The mages, on the other hand, occupied a separate space where, under the watchful eyes of their instructors, they practiced complex spells that crackled in the air, briefly lighting up the hall with bursts of energy.
There was a tacit respect between both groups. Bytea's militia consisted of a mix of seasoned warriors and disciplined mages, and each understood their role in defending the city. Despite the differences in their skills, they worked in harmony, knowing that every sword, every spell, was essential to maintain Bytea's fortitude.
Among them stood a particular figure. Alysia Pimes, a young semihuman woman who did not belong to either of these two factions. Her role was known as "Mana Doctor," a designation that involved a crucial function in the use and management of mana on the battlefield.
The task of a Mana Doctor was to control the mana of the surroundings. When a mage cast a spell, it infused the surrounding mana with the element of the spell, making it difficult for other mages with different specialties to cast their own spells. While there were no restrictions on mages using multiple elements, mana contamination often led mages to focus on a single type of magic to avoid complications.
This is where Alysia and her specialty came in. Her responsibility was to modify the surrounding mana to facilitate the convenient use of combat mages. With her skill, she could channel mana toward the required element, speeding up the casting process and improving the potency of spells. Additionally, she would cleanse the contaminated mana from the surroundings, allowing other mages in her unit to use their magic without restrictions.
Of course, it would be simpler to assign an entire squad of mages who shared the same element, which made Alysia's role unusual. Only exceptional mages had a Mana Doctor by their side, almost like a symbol of distinction, just as it happened with Captain Valeria Codex Altharyn.
At the opposite end of the training hall stood Captain Valeria Codex Altharyn, a woman who embodied perfection in every aspect. The third daughter of an ancient noble family from Bytea, Valeria possessed an ethereal beauty, accentuated by her snow-white hair and her yellow eyes that glowed like gold under the morning light. Her skin was soft and pale, contrasting with the dark armor of the empire that she wore, a choice that seemed designed to highlight her slim, athletic figure. Every movement she made was precise and determined, reflecting the confidence that radiated from her being.
However, her beauty was not the only thing that defined Valeria; her ambitions transcended the boundaries of Bytea. She longed to accumulate enough achievements in this place to join one of the empire's secret organizations, specifically the Order of Fetchium, a group composed of the most powerful mages in the empire. These organizations were not common knowledge among the people, but due to her position as a member of an influential noble family, Valeria had the connections needed to be aware of their existence. She knew, for example, that these organizations recruited individuals who stood out for their exceptional strength, offering them special privileges, power within the empire, and access to methods to enhance their abilities.
Valeria suspected that her master, Kaelion, and the talented Commander of the city, Roderick, belonged to one of these organizations. These organizations would often deploy their members to different cities of the empire, as sometimes individuals with such power would arise that regular soldiers could not control. The presence of someone from such an organization in cities served to prevent them from falling overnight or to minimize losses in case of a conflict.
Valeria's position granted her authority, which she did not hesitate to use to impose herself. With an air of superiority, she showed respect only to those with a higher status than hers; the Duke, the Commander, and her master were the only exceptions. For the rest, especially those she considered insignificant, like her subordinates and servants, she reserved a cold and ruthless demeanor.
After the rigorous morning training, Valeria was covered in a faint sheen of sweat, her expression severe and focused. At that moment, a young and nervous servant entered with a container of fresh water, hoping to relieve the captain's fatigue.
Servant: Excuse me, Captain, I bring you water.
As she walked forward, the servant's nerves betrayed her: she stumbled, and in an instant, the water spilled accidentally onto Valeria's clothes, soaking them. The young servant paled and stepped back in terror.
Servant: I-I'm sorry, Captain... I didn't mean to...
Valeria approached slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on her, a malicious smile curling on her lips. Without saying a word, she raised her hand in front of the servant's face. A soft snap and a glowing spark erupted from her palm. In an instant, flames engulfed part of the young servant's hair, who screamed in panic as she felt the pain on her scalp. The burns spread from her temple to her neck, leaving a bald and reddened area, marked by Valeria's punishment.
Valeria: What a careless mistake. It wasn't my intention.
Alysia, who had been silently observing the entire scene, suppressed a grimace of disapproval as her eyes remained fixed on the captain. Valeria's cruelty toward the most defenseless always made her uncomfortable, and she tried to hide it, knowing that her superior would not tolerate any signs of disagreement. She could not deny that Valeria possessed extraordinary talent, but behind that imposing figure, Alysia only saw someone who enjoyed power without scruples. To Alysia, the captain was nothing more than a ruthless woman, someone she only respected out of obligation, not admiration.
The servant barely dared to lift her gaze, holding back tears as she tried to extinguish the remaining embers in her hair. At that moment, a soldier hurried over and bowed before Valeria.
Soldier: Captain, the Duke requests your presence in the main hall.
Valeria nodded indifferently and dismissed the soldier with a simple wave of her hand. Before heading toward the hall, she cast a glance at Alysia, one of her subordinates, who had silently observed the entire scene.
Valeria: Alysia, as you can see, it seems I'll be busy. Take care of the cleaning of the military equipment. And make sure it's spotless.
Alysia: That's...
Normally, the maintenance of military equipment was a shared responsibility among the entire squad. Each member took care of their own gear and occasionally helped with others. However, the task Valeria assigned to Alysia was not only excessive but also placed an unfair and exhausting burden on her. Due to the peculiar nature of her role as Doctor of Mana—considered dispensable in many battle contexts—and her reserved nature, Alysia had become an easy target for demands and harassment from her unit.
After hours of hard maintenance work, Alysia let out a tired sigh within the shed, looking at her hands covered in oil and dust. She wondered if it had really been worth joining the army. She was just a simple semi-human villager who had shown talent in mana manipulation since childhood, and after years of practice, she had become a distinguished Doctor of Mana. Her dedication had brought her to this point, where her salary far exceeded what she could have earned in her village. However, when it came to her happiness, this was not what she truly desired. Every time she received such mistreatment, she found comfort in thinking that she was doing it for her younger siblings and her family.
She decided she needed a break. She left the shed and headed to the nearest bar, a rustic and discreet place where soldiers and workers often went to unwind after a long day. As she walked, she began counting the money in her purse to figure out how many drinks she could afford that night. She planned to stay until late, and she might have a good fifteen mugs. Upon entering, she settled at one of the secluded tables, ordered a strong drink, and slowly let the alcohol ease the day's tensions.
After a couple of drinks, she started murmuring her thoughts aloud, complaining about her captain's arrogance and the unfair treatment she endured.
Alysia: It's unbelievable... all this effort, just for that bitch to come along and treat us like we're... nothing. What did I do to deserve this?
Alysia: If only someone could put her in her place, treating the weak like that and only caring about the strong when it suits her... that girl just lives to inflate her ego and gain status.
At that moment, a hooded woman approached and sat next to her, almost silently, with the hood covering her face. Alysia barely noticed her presence at first, until the stranger spoke in a soft, serene voice.
Hooded Woman: Tough day, huh?
Alysia looked up, surprised, trying to decipher the face of the mysterious woman beneath the hood. There was something in her voice that felt reassuring, as if she perfectly understood what Alysia was going through.
Alysia: "Tough" would be an understatement...
Alysia, slightly drunk, paid little attention to the hooded woman who had sat beside her.
Alysia: Since I arrived in this city, everyone treats me like I'm just some simple village girl. In the daily military training, they belittle me for my role, like I'm the last of the reserves.
Hooded Woman: Wow, that sounds awful. Tell me more about your role, why do they belittle you?
Alysia: You see, I'm a Doctor of Mana. Others think I only serve as a reserve battery for my captain, but I can actually do much more. If we were in a war and several squads needed to cast different spells, I could control the mana around them to allow them to cast their spells without problems.
Hooded Woman: "Allow them to cast their spells without problems"? What exactly do you mean by that?
Alysia: When a mage casts a spell, the mana around them gets tainted with the element of the spell, which prevents others from casting spells of different elements on the same battlefield. That's why they need someone like me, a Doctor of Mana, who cleans the surrounding mana so everyone can use their magic without restrictions.
Hooded Woman: Wow, that sounds impressive. Maybe you just need an opportunity to prove it, and that's why others don't understand your importance.
Alysia: Exactly! You get me!
Alysia exclaimed loudly, the strong scent of alcohol escaping her, finally relieved to hear words of comfort for the first time since arriving in this city.
Hooded Woman: You know, you deserve better treatment. Let me buy you a drink.
Hooded Woman: Bartender, bring us two more of what this woman is drinking!
Bartender: Right away!
Alysia: You're such a kind person... I think I'm seeing my hero, someone who's come to rescue me from this hell.
The hooded woman drank her beverage in a rather unrefined manner, then wiped the foam off her lips roughly with her sleeve. Despite her face being partially hidden, Alysia noticed she seemed young—perhaps too young to be drinking, especially like that. Then, the woman let out a warm laugh that comforted Alysia.
Hooded Woman: Heh, yeah, something like that. I'm just being kind to you because you remind me of an old friend who went through something similar.
Alysia: Really?
Hooded Woman: Of course, she was also a Doctor of Mana, and the people around her looked down on her, just like they do to you.
Alysia: And how did your friend overcome her situation?
Hooded Woman: Actually, nothing special. She just used to vent her problems to me... like you're doing now.
Alysia: Well, I figured as much. There's really not much you can do in situations like this. So, could you at least lend me your ear tonight?
The hooded woman gave a slight smile at hearing this.
Hooded Woman: Of course. Tell me more about your captain... Is she strong?
Alysia: She actually is. Her only redeeming quality is that she's strong; she has magnificent control over magic and can cast the Fire Pillars spell, which few mages in the empire can conjure. But as a person, she's terrible. She treats the weak badly, is a tyrant with her subordinates, and a total bootlicker when it comes to her superiors. It seems like she'd do anything to climb the ranks.
Hooded Woman: I see... so she's one of those people. It must be awful being under her command.
Alysia: You have no idea.
Hooded Woman: By the way, who are you referring to when you talk about her superiors?
Alysia: Well, there aren't many people with more authority than the captain in this city, so she only treats the Duke Coreline, Commander Roderick, and her master, Khaelion, well. The Duke and Khaelion have an imposing, even terrifying presence, but Commander Roderick seems like a good person.
Alysia: I wonder if, if I asked politely, they might assign me to a different unit.
Hooded Woman: Oh, of course. Not all those in power are bad; sometimes there are exceptions. By the way, do you know where I could find the Duke or the commander in this city?
Alysia: Well, it's hard to say where the commander is since he's always out supervising the defenses here and there, but you could probably find the Duke at his mansion.
Hooded Woman: Ah, I see. Could you tell me where the Duke's mansion is?
Alysia: I see... you're new in the city, aren't you?
Hooded Woman: I'm ashamed to admit it, but yes. I also come from a small village.
Alysia: Ah, I see. Don't worry, we village girls have to stick together. The Duke's house isn't a secret; it's the biggest mansion right in the center of the city, surrounded by many guards. You'll recognize it as soon as you see it.
Alysia: But without contacts or a formal request from the army, it's very hard to meet the Duke in person. If that's your goal, I'd recommend forgetting about it. You might get into trouble if you insist on bothering the D—...
As Alysia continued, she realized the hooded woman had disappeared. She didn't know when she had left, but she noticed the woman had left about ten copper coins on the counter.
Alysia: Wait... this isn't enough to pay for the drinks you ordered. It doesn't even cover the one you drank.
She murmured quietly, realizing that tonight, she could only afford fourteen mugs of alcohol.
Alysia staggered out of the tavern, cheeks flushed and steps unsteady. The cool night air brought some relief as she walked home, but in her mind, the words of the hooded woman echoed persistently. Then, she remembered something that made her stop for a moment in the empty street: her first complaint, the one she had murmured quietly at the beginning of the conversation, had been in the language of her village.
It was a strange dialect spoken only by a few demi-humans, and it was rare for anyone outside of her village to understand it. But that hooded woman... she seemed to have understood it perfectly. And now that she thought about it, the woman didn't smell human either. There was something about her essence that didn't belong to the people of the city.
Alysia shook her head, convinced it was just a hallucination, a delirium created by her exhaustion and frustration. It was much more likely that the strain of her life in the army was starting to take its toll. Sighing, she continued walking, trying to ignore the unease creeping up her spine, and arrived at her home—a small, narrow room assigned to low-ranking soldiers, with no decorations or luxuries, just enough space to sleep and store her belongings.
She collapsed onto the bed, still dizzy, staring at the amulet hanging around her neck—one her grandmother had given her years ago, just before she passed away. She remembered her grandmother's words and the simple yet warm life in her village. For a moment, she thought about returning, leaving behind this city that only reminded her of her limitations and isolation.
But sleep overtook her before she could think more about it. The small room fell into silence, and Alysia sank into a heavy rest, almost forgetting the strange details of the night.
At dawn, Alysia was abruptly woken by an insistent knock on her small room door. She opened her eyes suddenly, still groggy, and barely had time to recognize the soldier at the entrance before he spoke urgently.
Unknown Soldier: Alysia, wake up. All available soldiers have been ordered to report to the Duke's house immediately, by order of the commander. You need to prepare and leave now.
The soldier left before she could ask any questions. Still confused, Alysia hurried to get dressed in her uniform and grab her field gear. Something in the soldier's tone and the urgency of the message caused a slight discomfort in her stomach. What could have happened that required the entire militia of the city?
When she arrived at the Duke's mansion, an imposing and well-guarded structure in the center of the city, Alysia noticed the atmosphere was unusually tense. The mansion's facade, usually calm, was surrounded by a row of guards in watch positions, their faces grim, reflecting the gravity of the situation. As she entered, she saw soldiers from different units gathered in the grand hall, murmuring to one another, clearly confused and on edge.
Among them stood Commander Roderick, his expression serious and focused. Beside him was Captain Valeria, whose cold, impassive eyes moved from one soldier to another as they arrived, evaluating the scene. Alysia felt a shiver run down her spine as she remembered her complaints from the night before, as if they were still echoing in her head.
It was then that she saw the elf. She was near Valeria, clearly a prisoner, her hands bound behind her back, a look of resignation on her face. Her body was covered in bruises that seemed recent, visible on her arms and neck, as if she had undergone a violent interrogation. Alysia felt a pang of indignation upon seeing the elf's state, but she forced herself not to let her emotions show.
Still not understanding the reason for this meeting, Alysia remained silent, watching, with the foreboding feeling that something serious was about to be revealed.
Valeria: I'll give you one more chance... tell me, what does this letter say?
Unknown Elf: I swear, I've never seen these characters in my life. They're not in the elvish language.
The elf, a servant at the Duke's mansion, had been captured as a slave some time ago and knew the language of the empire well.
Valeria, visibly enraged, landed a brutal kick to the elf's face, sending her crashing to the ground. A couple of teeth flew through the air, and the dull thud made some of the soldiers avert their eyes; the kick had probably dislocated her jaw.
Valeria: I'm getting fed up. This is your last chance. Read it.
The threat was clear: she held her sword in her hand, the sharp glint of the blade aimed at the elf's neck. The elf, desperate and staggering, began to murmur.
Unknown Elf: "We've kidnapped Duke... Coreline. I-if you want to rescue him, go to the Lughwood forest..."
Valeria watched her with an expression of absolute disdain, never taking her eyes off the trembling figure.
Valeria: You're lying, aren't you? You didn't even move your pupils while reading the paper.
As those words still hung in the air, Valeria raised the sword, ready to bring it down on the elf. But before the blade could descend, a firm hand stopped her.
Roderick: That's enough, Valeria. It's clear this elf can't read what's written on that paper. They're probably just trying to throw us off and buy time. Besides, the more hostages we have of their kind, the better; killing her won't help us.
Valeria: As you command.
With a furrowed brow, Valeria stepped back, though her eyes still burned with irritation.
Roderick, addressing the soldiers who had gathered and caught their attention, spoke with an authoritative tone:
Roderick: Listen closely. Duke Coreline was kidnapped during the night, and they left this letter in his place. The responsible parties are most likely the nomadic elves of the forest.
With Duke Coreline gone, Roderick assumed command with a cold, calculated firmness. The tension in the air was so thick that the soldiers barely dared to breathe as they awaited his orders. With a brief gesture, he called one of the messengers and gave clear instructions.
Roderick: Go to the capital and deliver a full report of what happened. Notify the authorities and request reinforcements. This situation requires us to be prepared for the worst.
The soldier nodded quickly and left immediately, his footsteps leaving a faint echo down the hallway. The other soldiers watched Roderick, attentive and silent. In his mind, he was already calculating every possible response to the elves' kidnapping and devising a plan that, though risky, offered the best hope of recovering the Duke.
Roderick: Listen closely. We are preparing to respond to this aggression with all our strength. No soldier will rest until we have restored peace to this city. Search every corner for any clues the perpetrator may have left behind and prepare for an offensive toward the elf village. They will pay for meddling with the power of the Empire.
All the soldiers present responded loudly and clearly to their commander's speech, preparing for the inevitable confrontation with the elves.
The Duke's kidnapping was only the first step in a conflict that threatened to plunge Bytea into darkness.
And so, the events began to unfold; Bytea, until now a peaceful border city, would soon find itself caught up in something much more dangerous. For these events were only the beginning: a crimson shadow spread, slow and threatening, casting a dark omen of war and destruction over Bytea.
End of Part 5