The walk back to the Edger mansion was silent. Meron walked slightly behind Eon, his eyes darting toward the shadows of the market. The merchant was still unnerved by the "mercy" Eon had shown the thugs. In Meron's world, mercy was often just an invitation for a knife in the back. Eon, however, seemed lost in thought. His mind wasn't on the thugs anymore, but on the logistics of the revolution he had just promised Martha.
As they reached the base of the hill where the mansion sat, the landscape had changed completely. Where there used to be empty, overgrown lawns, there was now a sea of grey and blue canvas.
Hundreds of tents were pitched in neat, military rows. The flags of House Denares snapped in the cold wind. The smell of woodsmoke and roasting meat filled the air, mixed with the metallic tang of oiled armor and the earthy scent of hundreds of horses.
Eon stopped at the edge of the camp, his eyes widening.
"I forgot," he whispered to himself.
"Forgot what?" Meron asked, looking at the massive military presence.
"Food for these soldiers," Eon replied.
He watched as groups of soldiers gathered around large iron pots. Smoke billowed from makeshift fire pits. Thousands of soldiers were stationed here now. While they provided a wall of steel that protected the estate from outside invaders, they were also a massive mouth that needed to be fed.
'Fuck,' Jin-ho thought, his modern brain doing the math. 'Thousands of soldiers. Each man needs at least two pounds of food a day. That's tons of grain, vegetables, and meat every single week. Count's storage is barely enough for the elves and a handful of staff. If I don't find a way to manage these meals, won't they start looting the local village just to survive?!'
The worry of this weighed heavily on him. He had no established supply lines, no gold to buy from the southern markets, and the local farms were mostly abandoned. 'Wont there be a famine at this rate?', he thought.
"Eon? Are you alright?" Meron asked.
"I'm fine. Just realizing that being a leader is mostly about worrying where the next loaf of bread comes from," Eon sighed.
He didn't have an answer yet. He pushed the thought aside and headed toward the mansion. He needed to clear his head. He went straight to the forge at the back of the estate.
Present time:
Inside the forge, the heat was a comfort. He had just finished constructing the grindstone, the brilliant blue light of the System was still fading from the room. He had given his short speech to the elves, about fighting smarter, not harder, and the room was filled with a rare sense of hope. Liam and the others were already testing the spinning stone, their eyes were glowing bright with excitement.
Eon stepped out of the forge, wiping the sweat from his brow. The evening moon was high now, casting long, silver shadows across the courtyard. He took a deep breath of the cold air, trying to refresh his lungs.
Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps broke the silence.
"Eon! Eon!"
He turned to see Elora running toward him. Her face was pale, and her breathing was ragged. She wasn't just tired; she was panicked.
"What is it? Did the Denares soldiers move?" Eon asked, his hand instinctively going to his weapon.
"No! It's a boy!" Elora gasped, stopping in front of him. "Alen! He's at the front gate. He's... he's a mess. He's also crying, shouting for you. He says something like his mother was taken."
Eon felt a cold bucket of ice water dump over his heart. "Taken? By who?"
"He said they were the Merchant Guild's goons. The ones from the alley. They came back as soon as you left, he says. They took her."
Eon didn't say another word. He took off toward the front gate, his newly restored elven speed leaving Elora behind. His mind was a storm of fury. He had just promised Martha sanctuary. He had told her that the Edger mansion was a place where they would be safe. Although she didn't take his offer, that doesn't mean he don't feel responsible. 'Wait, why would I feel responsible again?!' Eon paused for a moment.
But then Martha's face came to his mind. He rushed again, thinking about how sad Alen would look if something were to happen to her. Yes she was unrelated to him. He didn't even knew her just 2 hour ago. But the brief moment of talking to her had made a quite impression of her on him.
She somehow reminded him of Verra. He knew he would regret not rushing to save her for some reason. Thinking it would be once again a failure if he didn't act fast this time.
At the gate, the scene was heartbreaking. Alen was on his knees, his hands gripping the iron bars. He was sobbing loudly, his voice was hoarse. A few Denares guards stood nearby, looking awkward and unsure of what to do with a crying teenager.
"Alen!" Eon shouted.
The boy looked up, his face covered in dirt and tears. "Lord Elf! Just like you said, They came back! They had more men! They dragged her out... she told me to run to you... please! Please save her!"
Eon reached through the bars and grabbed the boy's shoulders. "Calm down, Alen. Look at me. I'm going to get her back. I promise you on my life."
He turned to the guards. "Open the gate! Now!"
The guards scrambled to obey. Eon didn't wait for Elora to catch up. He started barking orders.
"Hans! Valen! Elsa! Verra! Come out here now!" his voice echoed through the mansion's halls.
Within minutes, his team was assembled. Valen, the captain of the Denares guard who had been assigned to coordinate with Eon, arrived with his armor clinking. Hans looked grim, and Elsa had her bow already strung. Elora caught up, still panting, exhausted from her sword training probably.
"We need a ride," Eon commanded. "Something fast."
"The supply wagons are the only things ready," Valen said, gesturing to the heavy Denares carriages used to haul grain and arrows. "They aren't comfortable, but they are built for speed and rough roads."
"I don't care about comfort. Get one ready," Eon said.
They piled into the large, wooden supply wagon. Valen took the reins, snapping them over the backs of two powerful warhorses. The carriage lurched forward, bouncing violently as it raced down the hill toward the village.
Inside the wagon, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Eon sat with his arms crossed, his eyes glowing with a faint, dangerous light.
"Who would do this so quickly?" Elsa asked, looking at Alen, who was huddled in a corner of the carriage.
Valen grunted, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "If it's the guild goons Eon beat up earlier, then they didn't do this for the debt, I'm sure. This must be about 'face.' If they are who I think they are, then there's something worse. Those thugs... they often work as spotters for the human trafficking rings."
Eon's head snapped toward Valen. "Trafficking?"
Valen nodded grimly. "The Denares estate has struggled with them too. My lords, Alaric and Darius, they aren't exactly saints, but even they hate the traffickers. They don't specifically kidnap noble's but they steal the peasants of the estate. They sell them as slaves on the black market. These rings are active all over the North. They target the beautiful, the young, and the desperate. They have connections that go deep into the southern markets."
Eon was just hearing the words with wide eye's. This world just never cease to amaze him. One after another. Everyday he keeps hearing something, which he never would have imagined back on earth.
Hans sighed, his shoulders slumped. "If Martha was taken by a trafficking ring... Master Eon, I must be honest. It might already be too late. Even I know about them. They don't keep their 'merchandise' in one place for long. They move them through hidden tunnels and secret basements. By the time we find their hideout, she could be miles away, bound for a ship."
Eon's fist slammed into the wooden side of the carriage, the sound was like a gunshot. A crack appeared in the thick timber.
"It is not too late," Eon growled, his voice vibrating with mana. "I don't care if they have connections to the King himself. I don't care if they are 'not to be messed with.' I am going to find her, and I am going to kill every single person who touched her."
Even Valen, a hardened soldier, felt a shiver run down his spine. He had never seen him this angry. This wasn't the anger of a warrior; it was the fury of a man whose entire foundation of belief was being threatened.
"Where are they, Alen?" Eon asked, his voice softening just enough to speak to the boy.
"The... the old warehouse near the docks," Alen stammered. "It's where the Merchant Guild do their business. I saw them taking her that way."
"I know the place," Hans said. He started guiding Valen.
The carriage thundered through the village streets. People peeked out from their windows, terrified by the sound of the warhorses. They reached the outskirts of the market district, where the buildings were even more dilapidated and the air smelled of salt and rot.
Valen pulled the horses to a halt in front of a massive, two-story wooden building. It looked like a tomb. The windows were boarded up, and the main door was reinforced with iron bands.
Eon leapt out of the carriage before it had even fully stopped. Elora, Elsa, Valen, Verra, and Hans followed close behind.
In front of the warehouse, Eon saw several men standing guard. They were the same kind of thugs he had seen in the alley, but these ones were better armed. He recognized two of them, their faces were covered in bandages, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and hatred seeing him.
Beside them stood a woman. She was dressed in tight, dark leather, with a pair of long daggers at her waist. She looked at Eon's group with a bored expression, leaning against a stack of crates.
"Well, well," the woman said, her voice smoky and mocking. "The 'Black-Haired Demon' comes to visit, i see. You've caused quite a lot of trouble for our boys today, Elf."
Eon walked toward her, his footsteps heavy. "Where is she?"
The woman laughed, a cold, sharp sound. "I don't know what you're talking about. We are honorable businessmen here. We handle trade for the Guild. If you're looking for a lost servant, you should check the gutters."
One of the bandaged thugs stepped forward, his voice muffled by the cloth on his face. "That's him, Boss! That's the one who broke Kelan's thumb!"
Eon didn't look at the thug. He kept his eyes on the woman. "I'll give you one chance. Bring Martha out. Now. If you do, I might let you keep your lives."
The woman sighed, pushing herself off the crates. She drew her daggers, the steel gleaming in the moonlight. "You're a long way from home, Elf. This isn't your Elven country. This is our world. And in our world, people who stick their noses where they don't belong usually lose them." her eyes were sharp, looking at his eyes coldly.
The other guards drew their clubs and short swords. There were at least a dozen of them now, emerging from the behind of the warehouse.
"Talking is a waste of time, then" Eon said.
He didn't wait for a signal. He didn't wait for his team to get into position.
In a blur of motion, Eon crossed the distance between him and the leader, the man who had stood beside the woman. He was a large, muscular man with a scarred face, likely the one who had coordinated the kidnapping.
The man didn't even have time to raise his sword.
Eon's fist, reinforced by his strength potion and sheer, unbridled rage, connected with the man's jaw.
CRACK.
The sound of the bone shattering was audible to everyone in the street. The leader didn't just fall; he was launched off his feet. He flew backward nearly two feet, his body slamming into the iron-banded door of the warehouse with a dull, heavy thud. He slumped to the ground, unconscious before he even hit the dirt.
The street went deathly silent. The woman with the daggers froze, her mouth slightly open. The thugs looked at their leader, then back at Eon, who stood with his fist still clenched, his black hair whipping in the wind.
"Next?" Eon asked, his voice a low, terrifying growl.
The fight had officially begun.
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