The tension was still thick in the air.
The elves and knights remained wary, their hands gripping weapons, their eyes locked onto Keon as if he were a walking calamity.
Keon, meanwhile, was still mentally recovering from the absurd misunderstanding.
'Okay, new rule—no more vague, cryptic one-liners.'
Just as he was about to clear things up (or at least try), a thunderous sound echoed through the battlefield.
CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.
The ground shook slightly as an imposing figure rode into the clearing atop a massive, armored deer.
And not just any deer.
This creature stood at least twice the size of a normal horse, its antlers glistening with silver engravings, its armor decorated with intricate elven runes. The sheer regal presence of the beast made it clear—whoever was riding it was important.
And then, there was the rider himself.
The Elven General.
He was tall, poised, and painfully elegant. His long silver-blonde hair cascaded over his shoulders, perfectly framing a face so sharp and refined it could make statues jealous.
Handsome. Beautiful. An unfair mix of both.
Dressed in ornate white-gold armor that somehow looked both battle-ready and fashionable, he exuded an aura of authority. The kind that made people instinctively listen.
And unfortunately, Keon was about to learn that firsthand.
The moment the Elven General halted his majestic deer, he gazed over the scene and let out a sigh.
"What nonsense is this?"
His voice was smooth—too smooth. Like a nobleman who had never once lost an argument in his life.
He glanced at the soldiers, then at Keon, and scoffed.
"You're all trembling like frightened children before… what? This boy?"
Keon blinked. Boy?
The general continued before he could even open his mouth.
"Do you all hear yourselves? 'Ancient Cursed Being'? Hah! That is impossible."
His soldiers visibly hesitated.
"B-But General Sylven," one of the elves started. "He called himself—"
"Yes, yes," the general waved dismissively, "he gave you some vague, ominous phrase, and suddenly, you believe he is an immortal horror?"
Keon cleared his throat. "Actually, I—"
"Let's be logical, shall we?" Sylven cut him off effortlessly, already moving onto his next point.
"All the Ancient Cursed Beings were either sealed or slain. There has not been a single sighting for centuries."He gestured to Keon with an elegant flick of the wrist. "So tell me—how would one suddenly appear here, of all places?"
The soldiers visibly wavered.
Keon tried again. "If I could just—"
"Furthermore!" the general voice rose slightly, silencing him.
Keon's eye twitched.
Was this man… monologuing?
"If he truly were one of them," the general continued, "why would he be speaking with you at all? Would he not have already reduced this entire area to dust?"
Keon opened his mouth.
The elven general narrowed his eyes.
"—And before you say something vague and dramatic again, do not bother. I have already dismantled the theory."
Keon closed his mouth.
This. Elf. Would. Not. Stop. Talking.
And the worst part?
It was working.
The soldiers started nodding, murmuring amongst themselves. The fear in their eyes slowly faded into doubt.
Keon internally screamed.
'Let me speak, damn it!'
But the elven general was relentless.
"It is simple deduction, my dear soldiers," he concluded, crossing his arms with finality. "You were all fooled by an illusion of mystery. Now, cease this foolishness at once."
Keon stared.
This elf just logically explained away his existence right in front of him.
And Keon had not gotten a single word in.
For the first time in both his past and current life, Keon realized something:
He had met his natural enemy.
A man who could talk so much and so smoothly that he could erase Keon's entire fabricated identity before his very eyes.
He had never felt so disrespected.
And thus, Keon made a solemn vow.
He would get a word in. No matter what.
Even if he have to personally slap the beautiful looking elf general shut
As the elf general continued his grand speech, Keon, now 100% done, decided to do something productive.
'Fine. If I can't talk, I'll just see what I'm dealing with.'
He mentally commanded the system to analyze Sylven.
A transparent system panel flickered before him.
[IDENTITY ANALYSIS – TARGET: SYLVEN FAEL'THALOR]
Race: High Elf
Title: General of the Silver Bough
Rank: A+ (Peak Elite)
Abilities:
Graceful Supremacy (Passive): All actions performed are 100% more elegant than necessary.
Silver Tongue (Active): Can speak with such confidence and logic that it causes mental debuffs on listeners (doubt, hesitation, existential crisis).
Aetheric Blade Mastery: Unrivaled skill with a sword enhanced by Aether Magic.
Sylvan Step: Movement ability allowing instant acceleration and graceful dodging.
Commanding Presence (Passive): Charisma so high that it forces people to take him seriously.
Divine Antlered Mount – Eryndor: His deer. It's probably more important than you think.
Keon stared at the panel.
Then stared at Sylven.
Then stared back at the panel.
'…This man's entire existence is a walking power flex.'
But the worst part?
Silver Tongue (Active).
Keon finally understood.
This elf wasn't just good at talking.
It was a literal skill.
'…I'm fighting against a guy who has passive debate buffs.'
Keon clenched his fists. This felt personal now.
Meanwhile, Sylven—completely unaware of Keon's rising vendetta against him—simply continued his speech, utterly confident that he had logically dismantled the situation.
"…And so, it is entirely irrational to believe that this boy—" he gestured vaguely at Keon, "—is some forgotten horror of the past."
Keon squinted.
'Oh, you son of a—'
He had one goal now.
To break through this elf's flawless monologue.
Sylven continued his flawless speech, his soldiers nodding along as if he were reciting divine truth.
Keon, meanwhile, was on the verge of an existential crisis.
'This is insane. I literally exist, and he's still convincing them I don't.'
Something had to be done.
Now.
Keon took a slow, deep breath.
Then, he spoke.
"SYLVEN FAEL'THALOR."
His voice boomed through the battlefield.
The effect was immediate.
Sylven's words died mid-sentence.
His flawless, confident expression stiffened.
The surrounding soldiers—both elves and humans—flinched as their supposedly untouchable General froze in place.
For the first time since arriving… Sylven was silent.
Keon narrowed his eyes in triumph.
'Gotcha.'
Sylven slowly turned his head, his elegant composure momentarily shaken.
"...How do you know my name?" he asked, voice unnaturally careful.
Keon didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he let the tension build.
The soldiers stiffened, their paranoia resurfacing as they exchanged nervous glances.
"W-Wait… General Sylven never introduced himself…" one elf whispered.
"Then how did he…?" another murmured, their grip tightening on their weapon.
Keon finally tilted his head, smiling slightly.
'Let's see you logic your way out of this one, Mr. Debate Club.
The battlefield was deathly silent.
Sylven's confident facade had visibly cracked, his usual air of complete control momentarily disturbed.
Keon internally smirked. He had won this round.
Or so he thought.
Because, in the very next second—
"SEAL HIM."
Sylven's command rang like thunder.
Keon's eyes widened slightly as dozens of soldiers instantly sprang into action.
The elves raised their glowing bows, and the knights clashed their gauntlets together, channeling spells.
Runic symbols ignited across the battlefield.
Then—
BOOM.
A barrage of enchanted arrows and sealing spells launched toward Keon at blinding speed.
Before he could even think of reacting, he was completely swallowed by a massive golden sphere, shimmering with complex symbols and divine seals.
The light flickered, shifting in shape, solidifying into a prison.
The dust settled.
Silence.
The soldiers held their breath, their weapons still drawn.
Sylven narrowed his eyes, watching the glowing seal without a shred of doubt.
"It's done."
A soldier sighed in relief. "F-Finally… he's contained."
Another let out a nervous chuckle. "T-The Ancient Cursed Beings weren't so scary after all…"
Then, someone pointed at the sphere.
"Wait… why isn't he struggling?"
The realization hit all at once.
Keon hadn't reacted. At all.
Inside the glowing prison, Keon stood completely still.
Not a trace of panic.
Not a single twitch of resistance.
Nothing.
He was simply… standing there.
His expression unreadable.
His posture relaxed.
Like he had let it happen.
A cold chill ran down the soldiers' spines.
Sylven's eyes narrowed further.
"What…?"
Then Keon…
Smiled.
A simple, slow smirk.
And only now did the truth hit him.
Keon hadn't planned this.
The attack had been so fast that he didn't even have time to react.
But to everyone else…
It looked like he had calmly allowed himself to be captured.
Like it was all part of his plan.
Keon blinked, finally processing what happened.
'Wait… did I just get sealed before I could even flinch?'
A long pause.
Then, he slowly tilted his head.
'…Might as well roll with it.'
Keon stood there, perfectly still, trapped inside the glowing seal.
His lack of reaction made the soldiers deeply uneasy.
"Why… why isn't he doing anything?"
"He's just standing there… watching us…"
The whispers spread, doubt creeping into their minds.
Sylven, however, wasn't convinced.
His sharp eyes flickered between Keon and the glowing prison.
'No struggle. No resistance.'
He gritted his teeth.
'That only means one thing.'
He's not trapped.
He let this happen.
And if he allowed it… then that meant…
Sylven's expression darkened.
"HE'S PLANNING SOMETHING! DON'T STOP—POUR EVERYTHING INTO THE SEAL!"
The human general instantly followed.
"ALL MAGES, FULL POWER! NOW!"
Both elves and knights roared, pushing their hands forward.
A massive surge of mana flooded the air.
The glowing sphere around Keon ignited like a second sun.
It grew brighter—blindingly bright.
The runes shimmered violently, the air crackling with divine energy.
The entire battlefield was swallowed in golden-white light.
Keon disappeared from view.
No one could see him anymore.
No one could hear him anymore.
From inside the seal—
Keon's proud, mysterious smirk… vanished.
"Oh, COME ON!"
His shout of frustration echoed inside the glowing prison, unheard by anyone outside.
Keon buried his face in his hands.
'I took it too far.'
'Now they think I'm some chessmaster villain!'
For the first time, Keon felt something he hadn't in a while.
Regret.