The oppressive silence in the banquet hall was only broken by the clanking of armored boots.
A squad of royal soldiers stormed in, their polished silver armor gleaming under the flickering candlelight. Their eyes, however, held no warmth—only calculated indifference.
The captive elf woman remained silent as they seized her, iron shackles locking around her wrists with an unsettling finality.
Ryle clenched his fists at his sides.
He could stop them.
With his strength, none of these soldiers would stand a chance.
But what then?
This wasn't just a band of mercenaries. These were royal soldiers, enforcing the law of Velbrath. If he acted rashly now, he wouldn't just endanger himself—he'd ensure the elf woman's execution.
So he did nothing.
He watched in silence as she was dragged away, her emerald eyes still burning with defiance.
Somewhere deep inside, that infuriated him even more.
The next morning, Ryle did what he did best.
He wrote.
His article on the elven assassination attempt spread like wildfire across the kingdom. The nobles who had witnessed the attack confirmed the details, and soon, whispers of conspiracy filled the streets.
"Why did elves attack a noble's engagement?"
"Were they truly assassins, or is there something more?"
"Is the kingdom hiding the truth?"
Yet even as the kingdom debated, another report caught Ryle's eye.
Another massacre.
Another castle.
And once again, the attackers were elves.
The pattern was impossible to ignore.
This wasn't just a random attack.
Something far bigger was happening.
Not long after, Ryle found himself standing in Marquis Elden's private chamber.
A vast map of Velbrath sprawled across the wooden table, red marks staining several locations—each one a site of an elven attack.
Elden leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his usual air of unshakable confidence slightly dimmed.
"You want answers," Elden said. "Fine. But you won't like them."
He gestured at the map.
"The elves weren't always like this," he began. "They were once a proud, independent race. But that was before Velbrath's expansion. Before human nobles saw their lands as nothing more than… hunting grounds."
Ryle's fingers curled slightly at the term.
Elden continued, his voice matter-of-fact but carrying an edge of something deeper.
"Slavery is legal here. Elves, in particular, fetch a high price. Many are forced into servitude for… unspeakable purposes." His expression darkened. "Their forests are forbidden to humans now, but that hasn't stopped some nobles from trying to capture them."
Ryle exhaled slowly.
This wasn't just about an assassination attempt.
This was about centuries of oppression.
And now, the elves were striking back.
But was this truly a rebellion?
Or was there something else lurking in the shadows?
Ryle's decision was immediate.
"I need to enter the elven forest," he said. "If I want the truth, I need to see it with my own eyes."
Elden studied him for a long moment before sighing.
"You really are reckless," he muttered. Then, after a pause, "Fine. I'll grant you permission—but I won't be responsible for what happens to you in there."
Ryle smirked. "That's fine. I'll take responsibility for the truth myself."
As he turned to leave, one thought weighed on his mind.
This wasn't just a story.
It was a war waiting to happen.