Reynold squinted at the peculiar plant before him, a faint smirk crossing his face. "Celestial grass? An out-of-season plant... again?" He sighed, more to himself than to Roland. This place was an enigma, where the ordinary mingled with the extraordinary, defying nature's cycles.
Roland, standing beside him, seemed lost in thought. He rubbed his chin, eyes scanning the area. "This might be the place, but finding the entrance to the enchantment? That’s up to the guide."
Reynold nodded, glancing at the trees around them. "These plants are symbiotic with the trees. They blend in perfectly, growing branches and leaves just like their hosts. You'd never notice them unless you knew what to look for. They bloom at dawn, absorbing the last starlight of autumn mornings—a rare magic plant indeed."
"Their flowering period is brief, half an hour at most," Roland added, his voice tinged with weariness. "We don’t have much time. If we miss them today, we'll have to wait for another day."
Reynold yawned, trying to hide his exhaustion. "Forgive me, Your Highness," he muttered, embarrassed by his fatigue.
Roland waved him off. "It's fine. I’m just as tired. These star elves certainly keep us on our toes."
"Sign in by the system," Roland thought to himself, silently initiating his daily ritual. A familiar message popped into his mind:
"Sign in successful. Congratulations, host, you have received Dovinian Heavy Swordsmen*100."
Roland froze, his weariness momentarily forgotten. Dovinian Heavy Swordsmen—now that was a valuable addition. He chuckled quietly, feeling a surge of satisfaction. The Dovinian Heavy Swordsmen, known as Rune Swordsmen, were formidable. Positioned on the west bank of the Inland Sea of Rune, they were tough, well-armored, and fiercely loyal. With five layers of armor and a massive steel tower shield, they were built to withstand almost anything.
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Their reputation for strong positional warfare made them ideal for holding the line against even the most relentless foes. Roland's mind buzzed with possibilities. Could they hold off the orcs with these troops? The thought lingered, tempting him, but he dismissed it with a shake of his head. "Azog himself could probably break them," he muttered, trying to stay realistic.
His thoughts were interrupted by Reynold’s sudden exclamation. "Your Highness! Over here!"
Roland snapped back to the present, eyes focusing on the first rays of dawn. An ice-blue flower had bloomed quietly on a nearby branch, its petals catching the soft starlight like dew.
"That’s it!" Roland exclaimed, scrambling up the tree to inspect the flower. "This is what we’ve been looking for."
Reynold, still on the ground, squinted up at him. "What did you find, Your Highness?"
"Look at where the stamens are facing," Roland called down.
"West, I think," Reynold replied, uncertainty in his voice.
"Exactly. Let’s head west and see if we can find more." Roland jumped down, landing lightly beside Reynold.
The two moved quickly, following the flowers’ clues. Each time they found one, it pointed them further west. Their pace quickened, driven by the narrowing window of time.
"Here’s another!" Roland stopped, excitement in his voice.
"Stamens facing east this time," Reynold noted, his tone just as eager.
Roland’s heart raced. "We must be close. Look around for anything with a hexagram pattern."
They searched frantically, eyes scanning the ground, the trees, every inch of their surroundings. Finally, Reynold stumbled upon a half-buried hexagram, concealed by dense undergrowth. He called out to Roland, who rushed over, eyes wide with anticipation.
The hexagram was carved into a massive stone slab, weathered but still intact. Roland recognized it immediately—this was an entrance, one of the star elves’ hidden pathways.
"Can you speak Elvish?" Roland asked suddenly, realizing the next step.
Reynold hesitated. "I… I can try."
"That’ll have to do," Roland muttered, trying to recall the activation chant. He cleared his throat and began, "The forest weeps in flames, and the people tremble in the dark. The king who rides the mighty power of the stars, will come from the shadows. Dispel the fog of the night, leave the wandering loneliness. Carrying the Sacred Heart of Redemption, where the stars shine forever!"
Reynold stared at him, bewildered. "What was that?"
"It’s the activation chant! Translate it into Elvish, quickly!" Roland urged.
Reynold fumbled over the words, his Elvish clumsy but functional. As he spoke, the hexagram began to glow, a soft starlight emanating from its lines, illuminating the forest floor.
The barrier shimmered before them, revealing a hidden path beyond. Roland felt a surge of triumph as the stars opened their way. The enchantment was finally unlocked.
"Let’s go," Roland said, his voice steady, but his heart pounding with excitement. Their journey was far from over, but this was a victory, and they would take it.