CHAPTER 70: JOURNEY TO IRIDALE - 2

Chapter 69 - Journey to Iridale - 2

As the campfire’s glow dwindled and shadows stretched across the tent, a quiet settled. Ethan, lying on his bedroll beside Lirael, let out a small, almost sheepish whisper.

"So... I’m in need of my body pillow," he murmured.

Instantly, Lirael’s head jerked up from the other side of the tent, her eyes narrowing into a sharp glare.

"No," she said simply.

Ethan’s face fell dramatically, lips trembling as if he had just suffered an unbearable loss. His hands flailed slightly in mock despair.

"We need to be alert when traveling," Lirael added, her voice softening but still firm. "Even when we are sleeping."

Ethan’s expression twisted into a mix of protest and mischief. "But... aren’t the summons keeping watch?"

She folded her arms, unimpressed.

She leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Huh? So what about it? I don’t want myself going lazy in your arms... what if an emergency arises and I just keep sleeping in your arms, huh?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "So... you admit it—you sleep better in my arms."

Lirael huffed, cheeks tinged with pink, and rolled over, ignoring him.

"Fine," Ethan said dramatically, hugging his pillow tightly. "Well, here goes... my pillow for the duration of travel." He glanced at her side of the tent with mock sorrow. "This effectively marks traveling as one of the hated things in my lists."

Outside, the soldiers maintained their unwavering vigil, their armor glinting faintly in the moonlight, movements precise and silent. Not a single leaf stirred that went unnoticed, and any unusual sound would have been relayed instantly through their link—or by a sharp shout if required.

By the time the first rays of dawn filtered through the trees, the camp was calm, the fire reduced to glowing embers. Ethan and Lirael stretched and prepared for the day, the faint smell of smoke lingering in the cool morning air. Darian had already started tending the horses, adjusting the reins, and loading the cart for the next leg of their journey.

Breakfast was simple: dried bread, a bit of fruit, and water. Ethan exaggeratedly nibbled at the food, exchanging a few playful telepathic remarks with Lirael about how "inedible" the bread was, while she rolled her eyes but smiled.

Soon, the camp was packed up. The soldiers moved into formation, four corners around the cart once again, while Ethan walked in front and Lirael beside it. Darian settled onto the driver’s seat, guiding the horses with a steady hand.

The forest path stretched ahead, dappled with sunlight filtering through the leaves. Birds sang faintly, and the crisp morning air carried the earthy scent of dew-soaked soil. The gentle clip-clop of hooves and the low creak of the cart wheels were the only sounds that accompanied them—yet behind the calm, a quiet tension lingered, a reminder that the road to Iridale was not without danger.

Ethan took a deep breath, feeling the cool wind brush against his face. "Alright... day two of traveling. Let’s see if it’s any less hated than last night," he thought, glancing at Lirael, who simply smirked in return.

And with that, the journey resumed, the road stretching onward, steady and unbroken.

---

The forest path had barely stretched for an hour under the mid-morning sun when sudden, guttural howls echoed through the trees. Dust and leaves stirred violently as a pack of wolves emerged, teeth bared, eyes glinting with hunger.

Ethan instinctively raised his hand, murmuring softly under his breath. A faint shimmer of magic ran along his fingers as he activated his inspection ability.

Inspect.

Gale Wolves – Level 14

STR: 9

VIT: 8

CON: 10

AGI: 12

STA: 11

INT: 6

Mana: 5

Almost twenty wolves circled the cart, snarling, fangs bared, moving with uncanny coordination.

"Prepare!" Ethan shouted, drawing his blade.

The four soldiers immediately moved into perfect formation, one at each corner of the cart. Their movements were sharp and methodical, blades flashing in unison, cutting down wolves that dared approach too close. Where one soldier parried, another stepped in to strike; where one faltered, another’s blade was already in motion. Each movement was seamless, a synchronized dance of death honed to perfection.

Lirael moved swiftly to the back of the cart, bow drawn. Her arrows whistled through the air, striking precisely between the wolves’ shoulders, felling them before they could even reach the soldiers’ line. She adjusted her aim in a heartbeat, anticipating their agile leaps and snarls, ensuring no wolf circled too far behind.

Ethan weaved through the chaos like a conductor guiding an orchestra. He intercepted wolves attempting to flank the cart, blocked snapping jaws aimed at the soldiers, and delivered swift, calculated strikes to disable them without leaving gaps in the defense. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, each step and swing perfectly timed.

The wolves lunged, a mass of snarling fur and teeth, but the group’s coordination left no opening. The soldiers struck efficiently, deflecting bites and slashing with lethal precision. Lirael’s arrows cut through the pack with deadly accuracy, while Ethan moved from point to point, ensuring no wolf went unchecked.

Within moments, the pack’s numbers dwindled. Those that remained hesitated, sensing the unyielding strength and unity of their opponents. Finally, a few scattered howls, then silence fell, punctuated only by the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.

From the cart, Darian’s eyes were wide, jaw slack. He gripped the reins tighter, heart racing. I knew they were good, but this... this is unbelievable.

He watched the soldiers stand like statues around the cart, their swords lowered but ready, a faint, almost divine glow radiating off them. What is that aura? Holy? Are they from some temple order? That would explain the secrecy...

Then his gaze shifted to Ethan, who was brushing off dust from his armor, wiping a trickle of blood from his blade. And this... this man knows them? How? He even has a maid traveling with him—what kind of adventurer keeps a maid?

Darian’s mind raced, putting pieces together. He must be... secretly a noble. That’s the only way it makes sense. That mediocre dressing is just to fool the eyes and these soldiers... they’re here to protect him. Otherwise, none of this fits. I need to establish a good rapport with him during this journey... yes, that’s crucial.

Ethan looked up, catching Darian’s wide-eyed stare, and gave a faint, reassuring smile. Lirael nodded to him from behind the cart, bow lowered but still alert, and the soldiers straightened, ready for any more threats.

The forest returned to its quiet state, the scent of damp earth and fur mingling with faint traces of blood. Not a single wolf remained, and yet the air still hummed with tension, the echo of combat lingering as a reminder of what lay in wait along the road to Iridale.