Tap, tap, tap…
The rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed through the frosty air, a relentless cadence that reverberated across the snow-dusted wilderness. The riders pressed forward, their horses snorting clouds of mist into the chill evening, their pace unyielding despite the grueling journey.
Lucas, astride his mount, grimaced as he shifted in the saddle, his backside aching from five relentless hours of riding. He silently cursed his rudimentary equestrian skills, vowing to prioritize the development of a proper saddle with stirrups. The saddles of this era were primitive at best—little more than beast hides stretched over wooden frames, offering scant comfort and no leverage for the rider's feet. The absence of stirrups made maintaining balance a constant struggle, especially at the breakneck pace they were maintaining.
Chris, the leader of the War Wolves, slowed his horse to match Lucas's pace, drawing alongside him. His weathered face was etched with focus as he leaned in, his voice steady but urgent. "Lord, we're approaching a forest up ahead. Should we detour around it?"
Lucas's brow furrowed, his mind racing to weigh the options. Speed was paramount, and any delay could jeopardize their mission. "How long would it take to detour around the forest to reach Moth City? And how long to cut through on foot?" He asked, his tone clipped as he calculated the risks of each path. Rapid travel was critical, but detours and obstacles were the bane of urgent missions like this.
Chris, who had scouted the region around Sedona City extensively, responded without hesitation, his knowledge of the terrain proving invaluable. "There's a small path along the forest's edge. Taking that detour would add two hours to our journey to Moth City," He said, his eyes scanning the horizon where the dark silhouette of the forest loomed. "But if we dismount and cut straight through the forest on foot, we could reach Moth City in just one hour."
"Excellent. Dismount, gear up, and we'll move through the forest," Lucas ordered decisively, his voice carrying the weight of command. Saving an hour was a no-brainer, especially when time was slipping through their fingers like sand. The urgency of their mission—to rescue Elisa—drove every decision.
Their concern for Elisa gnawed at them like a persistent ache. That headstrong woman—had she already sprung into action, charging headlong into the slavers' trap to save her kin? If so, had she been captured, or had she somehow slipped away? Lucas's gut told him capture was the likelier outcome. The rumors about elf slaves in Moth City reeked of a carefully laid snare, and Elisa's solitary crusade made her a lamb walking into a den of wolves. He could only hope she was unharmed, her spirit unbroken. As for the rescue, he was determined to take charge. Elves intrigued him, their mystique a subject of fascination, though Elisa herself hadn't revealed anything particularly extraordinary—beyond her striking beauty, of course.
"Yes, sir!" Chris and his seven squad mates responded in unison, their voices sharp with disciplined respect.
Accompanying Lucas were three beast-eared girls: Mina, Ayesha, and Freya. Ayesha, the horned girl, had been adamant about joining, her fierce loyalty to Elisa driving her to insist on bringing her friend back safely. Freya, the wolf-eared warrior, had been assigned by Annie, a decision Lucas accepted without protest. He couldn't always rebuff their eagerness to contribute; constant refusals risked dampening their morale, and accumulated disappointment could wound their spirits. Besides, this was a rescue mission, not a battlefield slaughter. Their skills would be more than sufficient.
"Young master, maybe you should stay here," Mina said softly, her delicate fingers tugging at the hem of Lucas's cloak. Her eyes shimmered with concern as she lowered her voice. "We don't know what traps the enemy has set. It's too dangerous for you to go."
"What nonsense is that?" Lucas retorted, rolling his eyes as he surveyed the barren wilderness around them. Leave him here, alone in the middle of nowhere? The idea was absurd. With a playful smirk, he reached out and gave Mina's pert backside a light swat, his tone teasing but firm. "You know my strength, don't you?"
"…" Mina's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her hands flying to cover her backside. She opened her mouth to protest, wanting to clarify that her concern wasn't about his strength but the unpredictability of danger. Even the mightiest could fall to an unforeseen trap or ambush, and the thought of Lucas in peril made her heart clench.
"Enough, behave," Lucas said, his voice softening as he reached out to pinch Mina's cheek gently, a reassuring gesture. "We're not here to fight a war. Our priority is saving Elisa."
"Yes, sir," Mina replied, her expression shifting to one of solemn determination. She adjusted the leather armor strapped to her lithe frame, securing it tightly, then pulled a black face scarf over her nose and mouth. Her hands moved with practiced grace, drawing a pair of sleek knives, their blades glinting faintly in the dim light.
Lucas nodded approvingly, his gaze shifting to Freya and Ayesha. Freya, ever the stoic warrior, was a picture of readiness. Her massive greatsword hung at her side, its weight no burden to her, and her body was clad in lightweight steel armor, forged to balance protection with mobility. Ayesha, meanwhile, had foregone her usual baseball bat in favor of a formidable two-meter-long pole weapon—a domineering lance she called the "Overlord Spear." A single swing from that weapon could cripple an opponent; a direct thrust would be lethal. Her fierce demeanor radiated confidence, a silent promise of devastation to any who crossed her.
"Don't worry, Ayesha. Elisa will be fine," Lucas said, his tone gentle as he addressed the horned girl, whose face was taut with worry. "She's not foolish enough to get caught so easily."
"Mm-hmm, Elisa's clever," Ayesha agreed, her serious expression softening slightly as she nodded vigorously, a spark of hope flickering in her eyes.
"Mina, fetch the box we took from the inner vault," Lucas said, turning to the cat-eared girl with a brisk command. "The iron one I asked Nicole to prepare."
"Right away," Mina replied, darting to one of the horses tethered nearby. She deftly unfastened an iron box secured behind the saddle, her movements quick and precise. Hugging the box to her chest, she returned and presented it to Lucas with a slight bow.
Click!
Lucas crouched, his fingers working the combination lock with practiced ease. The lid sprang open, revealing a curious device: a forearm-length rod, sleek and metallic, combining the functions of a high-powered flashlight and a self-defense stun baton. It was a dual-purpose tool, the kind easily found on online marketplaces in his original world, though its presence here was nothing short of miraculous.
"Young master, what's that?" Mina asked, her cat tail swishing with curiosity as she leaned closer, her blue eyes wide. "Some kind of strange iron stick?"
"This," Lucas said with a mischievous grin, "is a very useful tool." He glanced at Ayesha and Freya, who had drawn closer, their curiosity piqued. Holding the device aloft, he aimed it at the darkened forest and flicked the switch to flashlight mode.
A brilliant beam of white light erupted from the rod, illuminating the forest as if it were midday. The sudden radiance startled everyone, their eyes widening as they stared at the now-bright expanse of trees, every branch and shadow starkly visible.
"This…" Mina's jaw dropped, her blue eyes darting between the illuminated forest and the device in Lucas's hand. Words failed her as she grappled with the marvel before her.
Swish!
"Who's there?" Freya reacted instantly, her instincts kicking in. She took two steps back, her greatsword drawn in a flash, its blade gleaming as she pointed it toward the forest, her body coiled with vigilance as if expecting an ambush.
Ayesha, meanwhile, was more intrigued than alarmed. She reached out, her fingers brushing the device curiously. "Young master, what's this called?" she asked, her voice brimming with wonder.
"It's a… wolf-repelling stun baton—er, no, I mean a flashlight," Lucas corrected himself hastily, catching Freya's confused glance. "It's a tool from my homeland, used for lighting up the dark."
"Repelling me?" Freya tilted her head, her wolf ears twitching as she glanced at her greatsword, which she quickly sheathed, her cheeks faintly flushed.
"How does it make white light? This is incredible!" Mina exclaimed, leaning so close to the flashlight that its beam cast her face in an eerie, ghostly pallor, highlighting her cat ears and wide eyes.
"Eek! Mina, don't scare me like that!" Ayesha yelped, playfully shoving Mina's face away with a palm. Undeterred, she leaned in herself, her horned silhouette transforming into what could only be described as a "Nightmare Horned Demon" under the stark light.
"Enough, stop fooling around," Lucas said, his tone firm but amused as he noticed Freya edging closer, clearly tempted to join the impromptu light show. He grabbed one of Ayesha's horns, gently pulling her back. "We're here to save Elisa, not play with gadgets."
He had brought the flashlight for a practical reason: to expedite their journey through the dark forest, allowing them to reach Moth City faster. Every minute delayed increased the danger to Elisa, and he was determined to minimize that risk.
"Move out," Lucas commanded, waving a hand. The War Wolves sprang into action, their training evident as they took point, advancing in pairs with seamless coordination, their eyes scanning the shadows for threats.
"Yes, sir!" The group responded, their voices a low, unified chorus.
Mina and Freya flanked Lucas, one on each side, their postures alert and protective. Mina's knives gleamed in her hands, her face scarf adding a touch of menace to her lithe form. Freya's greatsword rested easily at her hip, her steel armor clinking softly with each step. Ayesha brought up the rear, her Overlord Spear slung over her shoulder, her expression daring anyone to challenge her.
The twelve-strong party left their horses tethered at the forest's edge, plunging into the darkened woods under the cover of night, their path set for Moth City. The flashlight's beam cut through the gloom, guiding their way as they moved with purpose, each step bringing them closer to their goal: rescuing the elf who had dared to face a trap alone.
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