Arch continued along the path leading him through the legendary Towering Trees Forest,
known by locals as "Treewors"-a lighthearted pun on the towering, straight-standing hardwoods that rose like sentinels around him. These trees, with their swift-growing and durable wood, were a vital resource for the Empire, and the rhythmic sounds of axes and saws echoed from the forest's edges as craftsmen harvested the timber.
The Heroes' Road, or "Heroad" as locals called it, stretched nearly thirty - two oakspans through the heart of Treewors, a narrow, well-trodden artery of the Empire. The road, wide enough for three horses to walk abreast, was lined with crystal lanterns-enchanted to cast a steady glow through the forest gloom. Each lantern operated on mana, regularly replenished by ministry mages to ensure their light didn't wane. Yet, as Arch noticed, several of the lanterns had dimmed, their mana drained and left unreplenished due to the Ministry of Public Utility's struggle to keep up with maintenance. Bandits and fast-growing trees made it difficult to reach and repair many sections, and roots had even broken through parts of the road, leaving patches of uneven ground.
Moving through the subtle twilight cast by the faintly glowing lanterns, Arch advanced cautiously, his hand resting on his sword hilt. He was a lone figure on Heroad, but he was no stranger to shadows-moving like one himself as he pressed onward, alert to any hint of movement among the trees. Arch moved swiftly along Heroad, his footsteps sure and unhesitant. Covering long distances on foot was second nature to him-his muscles carried him forward with the rhythm of someone who had spent more time on the road than in his own bed. Yet, as the towering hardwoods of Treewors rose around him, casting dappled shadows over the path, he found himself distracted, his mind turning over the strange mysteries of the forest.
Treewors is no ordinary woodland. Its trees, known across the Empire for their unique and rapid growth, seemed to almost defy the natural order. Carpenters and craftsmen flocked here for the quality and abundance of wood, yet even their relentless harvesting efforts never thinned Treewors for long. Within a few years, the forest appeared as dense and undisturbed as if no axe had ever touched it. To some, it was a blessing-a forest that gave without limit. To others, it was an enigma.
Arch had heard many theories about the forest's unusual vitality, each as wild and speculative as the next. Now, as he moved deeper into its heart, he couldn't help but entertain a few theories of his own. Perhaps Treewors was the work of an ancient mage-some powerful soul who had embedded enchantments into the very roots of the forest, making it grow unnaturally fast. Arch imagined some figure from centuries past, shaping the forest's future with spells lost to the pages of history, the kind of magic he might never fully understand.
Yet, he couldn't ignore another possibility: perhaps the trees themselves were special, their seeds carrying something older, even primordial. He'd heard tales of seeds from distant lands that could thrive under almost any conditions, and he wondered if Treewors might be home to one such species, brought to the Empire long ago by travelers whose stories had since faded.
Then there was the land itself. Treewors stood on soil unlike any he'd seen, rich and dark with nutrients. He knelt down, brushing his fingers against the forest floor, feeling the cool earth. It was soft, almost damp, as if it held an endless reserve of moisture and sustenance. "Maybe it's simply the soil," he muttered to himself, considering the notion that something deep in the earth nourished the trees with unusual potency, creating an ecosystem that seemed almost self-sustaining. It wouldn't be the first time the Empire had discovered land with peculiar properties; the provinces were vast, and each held its own share of strange wonders.
Or perhaps it was none of these things. Maybe the answer was as mundane as effective fertilizers used by local farmers, a practice so routine it had become invisible to those who lived around it.
As he mulled over these ideas, Arch found himself drawn further into the forest, the air growing cooler and the scent of damp leaves thickening. Still, Arch couldn't shake his curiosity. He pressed on, quickening his pace, feeling as though the very forest was watching him, challenging him to unlock its secrets.
"Pshooolp." A sharp sting struck the side of Arch's nape, jolting him out of his thoughts. Instinctively, his hand shot up to swat whatever had hit him, pulling away something thin and small that left a hot, prickling sensation in its wake. He glanced down to find a dart nestled in his fingers, its tip coated in a sticky, sappy residue. Panic surged within him as he processed the situation. At first, he assumed it was just one of the region's infamous mana-sucking insects, Soulgnat, known for their silent approach and pestering of travelers. But as the edges of his vision began to blur and his limbs felt heavy, he realized this was no insect-this was something made.
From the thick undergrowth of the Towering Trees Forest, a group of bandits materialized like phantoms stepping out of the shadows, their figures cloaked in the mottled greens and browns of the forest. They had been lying in wait, their presence concealed behind the massive trunks and dense underbrush, watching him like hungry predators. With grins stretched across their faces, they swarmed toward Arch, their movements quick and precise, gliding through the trees with the practiced ease of seasoned hunters.
"Look at that! We've got ourselves a fresh one!" one of the bandits crowed, stepping forward with a swagger, a curved dagger glinting ominously in the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. His voice was filled with a mocking cheer, as if they were celebrating a game rather than a hunt. The others laughed, each bandit drawing closer, their eyes gleaming with malice as they sized him up. The scent of damp earth and rotting leaves hung thick in the air, blending with the acrid odor of sweat and adrenaline as they danced around him like wolves encircling an injured deer.
Arch fought against the dizziness enveloping him, his instincts screaming that he had to act. He unsheathed his twin swords, the polished metal glimmering defiantly despite the growing shadows that surrounded him. His mind raced with adrenaline, trying to formulate a plan, but he knew he was at a severe disadvantage-each bandit was poised and ready, their confidence swelling with every passing second as he staggered, swaying on unsteady feet.
"Come on, then! Show us what you've got!" another bandit taunted, a wiry figure with wild hair, brandishing his weapon with exaggerated flourishes, clearly relishing the moment. The rest moved in a loose formation around him, mirroring his bravado as they closed the distance, eager to capitalize on Arch's evident weakness. They were a ragtag group, each wearing mismatched clothing and armor that had seen better days, but they moved with the conviction of a well-drilled unit, honed by countless encounters with travelers.
Arch swung his sword, aiming for the nearest bandit, but the blow fell short, barely grazing the man's shoulder. The dizzy spell enveloped him further, the world spinning like a whirlwind, each motion feeling sluggish and uncoordinated, as if he were fighting through thick molasses. He stumbled back, struggling to regain his footing, but the darkness threatened to consume him, and he felt his legs weakening beneath him, the force of the sedative taking its toll.
"Look at him! He's barely standing!" one of the bandits laughed, the sound echoing like a cruel taunt in the thick, humid air. The group surged forward, emboldened by his evident weakness. They knew they had the upper hand, their movements a flurry of excitement and anticipation, closing in around him like vultures circling their prey. The wiry bandit lunged forward, a savage grin plastered across his face, while the others flanked him, their raucous laughter ringing in his ears like a funeral dirge.
"Let's see if he's as tough as Brunt!" the leader shouted, his eyes glinting with a wild, reckless thrill as he brandished his dagger, a gleam of malevolence in his gaze. Arch could feel the weight of their stares, the thrill of the hunt washing over them like a tidal wave, and he knew he had to act quickly if he had any hope of escaping.
With sheer willpower, he fought against the encroaching darkness, trying to swing at the nearest attacker, but his effort fell short, barely connecting with the bandit's leather armor. The disorienting haze deepened, and each swing felt heavier than the last, like he was moving through a dream where every motion was slow and laborious. He staggered backward, trying to gather his strength, but the dizziness wrapped around him like a shroud, dragging him down.
"No!" he gasped, desperately reaching for the ground, but his fingers only grazed the forest floor before he collapsed, surrendering to the effects of the Soumna sap that had infiltrated his bloodstream. The last thing he saw was the gleeful faces of the bandits, their wicked excitement bubbling over as they celebrated their fresh catch, their laughter ringing in his ears as the world faded to black.
When Arch finally regained consciousness, he found himself alone, sprawled on the forest floor. The bandits had robbed him of his supplies-his traveling rations, a few gold coins, and his twin swords. His copper pendant, however, remained securely around his neck. The pendant was a curious piece, featuring a figure wearing a hard hat with a small crystal lantern fixed into it. During the robbery, one of the bandits had examined it with a sneer. "What an ugly pendant! With a few gold coins, he could buy a decent necklace. What a waste," he had exclaimed, tossing it back with disdain before turning his attention back to the more valuable items. But, in a twisted show of their humor, they left behind his cloak and a sturdy walking cane, a mocking gesture that echoed their signature move: "You've been caned. Better luck next time!"
He gritted his teeth in frustration, feeling the weight of the cane in his hand. It was both a tool and a reminder of his humiliation, but he wasn't defeated. Struggling to sit up, he assessed his surroundings, the towering trees looming overhead like silent witnesses to his misfortune. The bandits had taken his weapons, but they hadn't broken his spirit. As he rose to his feet, Arch resolved to track down the bandits. He could reclaim his gear and exact a measure of revenge for the humiliation he had suffered. After all, the woods had ears, and he knew the stories of the Cane Bandits would not end here.
As Arch trudged along the path toward the Southern Lumen Patrol Outpost, thoughts of the bandits gnawed at him. He suspected they were part of the group that had shadowed him along the Heroes' Road, lurking on the outskirts near the Northern Helm Patrol Outpost. Now, with nothing but a cloak and a cane, he was keen to regroup and report his ambush to the southern outpost near Lumen.
Lumen is a small, humble village of about 100 people nestled to the south of Illuminara Province, with the vast Treewors Forest lying just beyond its northern boundary. As dusk descended, Arch made do with his surroundings, sheltering in the hollowed trunk of an ancient tree. The forest had provided him with wild berries for sustenance, while droplets collected on nearby foliage offered enough moisture to wet his lips and keep him going.
By midday, after half a day's journey, he finally arrived at the Southern Lumen Patrol Outpost, only to be greeted by a young recruit whose suspicious gaze fixed on him the moment he approached. The recruit, green and unfamiliar with veterans like Arch, listened to his account of the ambush with narrowed eyes and a guarded stance. Arch produced his copper pendant, displaying it as a mark of his allegiance and experience, hoping it might cut through the recruit's doubts. But the young man's expression only twisted in irritation, and he eyed the pendant with disdain.
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"Are you trying to bribe your way in here?" he sneered, voice laced with disbelief.
Before Arch could respond, the outpost sergeant, drawn by the commotion emerged from the building, scratching his backside with one hand and holding a steaming mug of blackrootbrew in the other. He stepped out with a casual yawn, but his demeanor shifted the moment he laid eyes on the pendant dangling from Arch's hand. His own eyes widened with sudden recognition, and to his surprise, he nearly choked on his coffee.
"RECRUIT! KNOW YOUR BETTERS!" he barked, his voice a thunderous command that reverberated across the outpost.
The recruit snapped to attention, his face a vivid mix of confusion, shock, and dawning terror. He understood instantly that he'd crossed a line, though the details remained a mystery. Arch watched with quiet satisfaction as the young man's posture stiffened, his expression one of utter mortification, while the sergeant's intense gaze flickered between Arch and the pendant, the weight of its meaning clearly understood.
The sergeant scurried over to Arch, his face a blend of respect and apprehension. Bowing slightly, he introduced himself with crisp formality. "Sergeant Brikan Barkhold, Patrol Overseer, Southern Lumen Patrol Outpost." He then quickly apologized on behalf of the young recruit's missteps, giving his subordinate a hard look. The recruit was still bewildered, casting furtive glances at both men, clearly clueless about the magnitude of his blunder.
Sergeant Barkhold was known as the outpost's "top dog"-a veteran of the field who rarely displayed anything resembling deference, much less in front of anyone else at the outpost. Yet here he was, meeting Arch with a solemn respect that was unmistakable. As the recruit glanced over, he whispered, "Who is this man?"
The sergeant's response was swift and pointed. "Go to the kitchen and tell the boys to prepare a hot meal! And make it quick!"
Arch extended the copper pendant, and the sergeant, intrigued, politely asked if he could examine it more closely. Nodding, Arch handed it over. Sergeant Barkhold took the pendant in his rough, calloused hand, turning it over with a discerning gaze. He traced the intricate patterns on the front and back, before focusing on the engraved figures on the back: a candle, a sword, a shield, and a book, arranged in a square formation. The cryptic emblem was an unmistakable marker, a code used by the Arcanum Empire's elite Military Explorer Unit, denoting the bearer's clearance level and capabilities. And below, the initials "A-T" stood out, plain as day.
The sergeant's suspicions were confirmed-this man is indeed an Explorer, a rare honor bestowed only on those few whose skills and bravery had set them apart. As a patrol overseer, Sergeant Barkhold was among the trained to recognize these symbols so they could provide assistance to any passing explorers. But this wasn't just any explorer. When he asked Arch for his name, Arch replied, "Arch Thedo," his eyes widened slowly, almost comically, as the realization sank in.
It was already a privilege to host a member of the Military Explorer Unit at his humble outpost, but Arch Thedo was in a league of his own. Tales of his tactical genius and daring exploits had spread through the ranks, giving him a near-mythic status. Sergeant Barkhold's voice softened with reverence as he formally welcomed him, "It's an honor, sir. Please, follow me to the mess hall so we can serve you a proper meal."
Arch, however, raised a hand. "If it's all right, Sergeant, I'd prefer a bath, some fresh clothes, and perhaps a bit of rest first."
The sergeant nodded immediately, snapping into action. "Of course, sir! Right this way. We'll have the supplies ready for you. And in the meantime," he added with a knowing smile, "I'll have that hot meal ready and waiting when you're rested."
As Arch followed him into the outpost, he noticed the sergeant's subtle gestures directing the other soldiers to clear the path-a mark of deep respect, and a silent acknowledgment of Arch's exceptional status within the empire.
After a refreshing bath and a change into clean clothes, Arch took a short rest before heading to the mess hall, where Sergeant Barkhold was waiting. The moment he entered, the sergeant barked an order to the kitchen boys to serve the meal immediately. The kitchen staff scrambled in shock; one boy dropped his mug, and another bit his spoon in surprise at the sergeant's sudden intensity.
As Arch settled into his meal, he began to recount his misfortune with the bandits. Though he was a bit hesitant, admitting he'd been bested by common bandits, Sergeant Barkhold quickly reassured him. "No need to feel that way, sir… You're Arch Thedo!" His words rang out across the hall, catching everyone's attention. Instantly, the soldiers turned, and the kitchen boys craned their necks to peek through the service window, eager for a glimpse of the legendary tactician.
"What are you fools staring at?" Barkhold roared. "First time seeing a hero?" The soldiers quickly snapped back to their seats, but many couldn't help stealing quick glances at Arch. A few passed by to greet him with reverent nods, murmuring, "An honor to have you here, sir," including some of his own age who looked at him with awe.
At a nearby table, the recruit who had initially greeted Arch with suspicion whispered to his table mates, "Guess we got 'dogged' again," snickering at their sergeant's stern reaction, a joke on Barkhold's last name.
But as the recruit took a bite of his pig rib, the full realization sank in. He had practically dismissed one of the youngest yet most formidable commanders in the entire realm. His face paled, and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead as he imagined the implications of his earlier attitude. The gravity of his mistake weighed on him, and he sat in silence, glancing nervously at Arch, hoping his blunder hadn't left a lasting impression on the legendary hero.
As Arch recounted his misfortune, he savored the meal laid before him. The commander, keen on documenting Arch's experience, called for Tersen Lawn, the petite and slender Vice Seer of the outpost, to fetch the logbook and record Arch's account.
With a wave of his hand, Sergeant Barkhold summoned the kitchen boys and the recruit who had shown Arch some attitude earlier. When they approached, their nervousness was palpable. The recruit's forehead glistened with sweat, and you could almost see the anxiety radiating from him. What if Arch Thedo dislikes the food? Maybe I should have shredded the meat stew more. I'm done for, thought the boys.
Arch's face was stern as he looked at the group. "Who cooked this meal?" he asked. The head cook, visibly trembling, stepped forward. "I cooked the stew, sir. This one made the bread, and the youngest prepared the dessert and drinks." Arch took a moment, letting the silence stretch, his gaze steady on the cook's face, before breaking into a wide grin. "Why are you all so worried? The meal was great!" The kitchen boys released a collective sigh of relief, their faces lighting up with gratitude. "Thank you, sir!" they chorused. Arch nodded, "I'm looking forward to a nice breakfast. Thanks again."
With the atmosphere lightening, Arch turned to the recruit who had previously laughed with his comrades. "You. What's your name?" he asked, fixing Ichson Marnor with a direct gaze. The recruit snapped to attention, his voice shaking slightly as he replied, "Ichson Marnor, recruit, sire!"
"Don't think I'll ever forget your attitude earlier," Arch said, his tone firm. Ichson quickly stammered out an apology, the sergeant smirking at the unfolding drama. He had heard stories about how Arch often left his subordinates confused before ultimately commending them, and he was eager to witness it firsthand.
"What you did..." Arch began, but Ichson jumped in with an apology, fear overtaking him. "I'm not done speaking, recruit!" Arch shot back, his voice commanding.
"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!" Ichson replied hurriedly, dread creeping into his mind. My career is over. I'm going to bring shame to my family.
"What you did was worth commending," Arch continued, catching Ichson off guard. "Job well done, soldier." The recruit blinked, his shock evident. Arch explained the potential consequences of letting him through without questioning. "What if I had been a rebel?" he challenged. Ichson was still in disbelief, processing Arch's unexpected praise.
"Congratulations, recruit!" Sergeant Barkhold chimed in, a teasing grin on his face. "You'll be graduating with a special commendation from none other than Commander Thedo, Commander of the 12th Dispatch Reaction Unit of Elysian City!" The mess hall erupted in laughter, and he added, "Vice Seer, make sure to record this."
Ichson, jolted by the sudden shift, shouted, "Thank you, sir!" Relief washed over him, though he still felt the weight of the earlier interaction. Arch leaned in slightly, his expression softening. "Just remember, don't let your passion to serve wane. Be a bit more cordial next time with strangers." The gentle reminder hung in the air, meaningful and constructive.
"Yes, Commander Thedo!" Ichson replied, his voice is steadier now. The rest of the soldiers in the mess hall cheered, their spirits lifted by the exchange. "Right, dismissed!" Barkhold barked, and the recruits scrambled back to their duties, buoyed by the unexpected excitement of the day.
Arch requested Sergeant Barkhold to continue their conversation in his office, and the sergeant readily agreed.
Inside the office, Arch revealed his actual objective for traveling. "I've been accepted into the Military Explorer Unit," he explained, a sense of pride evident in his voice. "I've been summoned by the Head Office in Illuminara City for my formal swearing-in ceremony and to be assigned my first mission."
The sergeant nodded in understanding. "I know," he replied. "A few days ago, a dispatch messenger delivered a spectral cast. The Explorer Head Office informed me that an explorer would be passing through our outpost. I didn't realize it would be you, sir. I've been instructed to assist in any way I can."
Arch's curiosity piqued, and he asked, "Have there been any developments regarding something unusual in the area?"
"Well, since you're an officer and an explorer, I ought to share this with you," Barkhold said, leaning forward. "We caught a spy who may have connections with the 'new problem of the empire.'" He handed Arch a confidential report, the seriousness of the situation settling in the room. "But it's not as simple as it seems. Just last night, the suspect managed to make himself burst-just like that. He's gone without a trace of his existence left behind."
Arch's brow furrowed in concern. "Burst? How is that even possible?"
"Even us is still processing what happened," the sergeant replied. "It appears he had use some kind of unknown magic at his disposal, likely linked to the chaos we've been facing. While he was in custody, he somehow triggered a spell that left no remains. We suspect he may have had accomplices nearby."
“If you have bounded the suspect, of course you checked his things, right?” Arch asked while he adjusted his lean forward.
“Aye…” He had no other things noteworthy. “I personally checked the bastard. No weapon or some sort. Nothing…”
Arch continued Barkhold’s thinking “Yet he was able to cast magic without without as wand or staff, is that what you’re saying?”
“Aye, this problem, is getting more serious… I have already dispatched a messenger to the Head office at Illuminara. Maybe by now, your fellows already know it.” Barkhold added.
“A soulcaster, huh. This will be really work”, Arch spoke in a dazelike voice.
After discussing the report and its implications, they concluded their conversation. "Goodnight, Commander," Barkhold said as they prepared to part ways. He called for Tensen to lead Arch to his chambers.
Tensen, a young woman with sharp eyes and a determined demeanor, greeted Arch. As they walked, Arch inquired about her background. "So, Tensen, where did you come from? What brought you to the military?"
"I'm from Veloria," she replied, her pride shining through. "I graduated from the Velorian Academy. My family has a history in the military, but I wanted to carve my own path. The military offered me the chance to serve and make a difference, and I enjoy the challenge it provides."
After a short chat, Tensen led Arch to his chambers, and they parted ways.
The following morning, Arch rose before the sun, eager to prepare for the journey ahead. He completed a brief exercise in the mustering yard, engaging in light conversation with the soldiers who were going through their regimental drills. Afterward, Arch took a bath, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and had a hearty breakfast. At 8 in the morning, he bid farewell to the outpost. Sergeant Barkhold was apologetic, explaining, "We can't replace your clothes with the same ones you wore, nor your swords. However, I dispatched a messenger yesterday afternoon to the Military Tailor and Military Smith to begin crafting your garments and weapons to your specifications. You'll just have to pay them a visit before heading to your destination"
Arch nodded appreciatively. The sergeant continued, "We've prepared a bag of military rations for you, along with a pouch of gold coins, a stickblade, and we've replaced your cloak, all at the expense of your unit."
To make Arch's journey easier, they lent him a sturdy horse. Barkhold added, "You can leave the horse at the City Outpost if you don't need it anymore. I'm sure your unit will provide you with a better mount for your travels."
With everything in order, Arch mounted the horse, feeling a mix of excitement and determination. He set off towards the north, the landscape unfolding before him as he embarked on his new adventure with the Military Explorer Unit, the mysterious disappearance of the spy weighing heavily on his mind.