The hall had went silent after the adrupt point raised by Harwin. The council-men looked at him in horror and shock whilst Viyetral wore a slight smile on his face. He gave a quick nod to Harwin and then claimed:

  "It is just as my esteemed comrade stated, if such actions are taken, then we would be bound to respond in kind. I do hope that you understand now about who holds the power in this room at this moment."

  Quintel, the council leader, was too stunned speak. He was confused, but then his opponent continued:

  "Now, now, council-men, there is no need to fear. You had presented your terms earlier, and therefore it is only fair that you adhere to ours now. We will wait a month for the arrival of the letter from the sword-saint, but if for any reason it does not arrive, we shall carry out the sentences according to the laws set in stone by the elfin customs. Also, during the timeframe that the letter will arrive in, you lot will be put under house-arrest in this very building."

  Most of the council-men rejected the last bit, but as soon as they saw Viyetral and the others put their hands on their swords, they went silent again.

  Quintel understood the severity of the situation, and finally replied:

  "We accept the terms, but we request the permission to hold council meetings during this restraint."

  "You are allowed to hold it once every two days, but only after proper approval." Viyetral replied.

  After much pondering, the old man nodded. They were about to sigh with a bit of relief, but then Viyetral issued a warning:

  “If we do hear that the other elfin settlements or any other nation have already been informed of this matter, then we shall carry out the sentences without a second of delay. Are we clear?”

  None spoke, but were obviously panicked. The authority in the room had shifted to Viyetral, and only a small thread was holding the entire weight of the measly lives of the council-men.

  “Yes, we understand.” The old man reluctantly agreed, as sweat trickled from his temple.

  “Great! You shall not worry about anything if you hold your end of the deal, but otherwise....Well you old folk are quite wise" Viyetral mocked.

  These counil-men were old elves; they had lived during the human-elfin war and knew of the battle prowess of a single captain. In the presence of the two most legendary captains, they could not have won even if they used up all of their resources and men at arms. Especially since now Thrandul’s loyalty was doubtful at best whilst Lyrital laid dead.

  Viyetral called upon all his men inside the hall. He filled in the details to Farelen, who was angered at having to negotitate with traitors, but did not do anything to falter the plans of his comrade.

  All of the council-men were accompanied to different rooms — only five men were allowed in each room while Quintel was completely isolated from the rest. Two younglings were left to guard infront of each room.

  None were allowed to enter without the permission from one of the captains. It was decided that Farelen with Landel will remain in the council-building while Viyetral and Harwin will make their way back to the conservatives. The latter pair will make preparations to counter the small hurdle they had just incurred.

  Farelen was advised by Viyetral to find loyalist (the ones who were still adamant believers in the authority of the sword-saint) and replace them slowly with the guards of the entire main building. The former was also advised to keep this change discreet, and have anyone who seemed suspicious locked up in the dungeons.

  Just before leaving, Viyetral alongside Farelen decided to do a round of the entire buidling first-hand to understand all of its weak points and exits. Thrandul was selected as a guide, he remained silent unless the pair asked him a question which he answered truthfully and swiftly.

  Harwin and Landel did not follow them, but instead decided to visit Grantal — the supposed companion whom they had forgotten about ever since coming to this town. He was the son of a rebel, but none the less, after travelling with him for so long they could not just leave him without a sense of guilt in their hearts.

  Grantal was in one of the many outer quarters of the council-building. It was built as masterfully and decorated luxuriously as the main building — clearly meant for the stay of important men from all around the continent.

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  They entered his room without any permission and found him practicing with a wooden sword. He was able to move freely with the help of a prosthetic leg crafted by the most experienced craftsmen of the town. Grantal was the son of a very powerful person who was well-respected among his peers, thus his son was taken care of in his absence.

  Upon seeing Landel and Harwin, Grantal did not smile or leap to greet his former travel companions, rather he glared at them. He shouted:

  “WHAT ARE YOU HERE FOR AFTER EVERYTHING YOU HAVE DONE!”

  He obviously had been told, or poisoned by the sweet lies of the council-men. Grantal was gullible to say the least. He was not as sharp as Harwin neither was he strong enough to just do as he pleased like Landel.

  “Relax, we are only here to visit. We wanted to see how you are doing.” Harwin tried to calm him down.

  “AFTER IMPRISONING MY FATHER! POSSIBLY MURDERING HIM AND THEN FOOLING ME INTO BELIEVING THAT HE HAD ORDERED ME TO HELP YOU — THE VERY PEOPLE WHO ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS DISAPPEARANCE!”

  “These are all lies fed to you by the corrupt council-men. They are never to—” Harwin was inturrupted by Landel.

  “Stop it Gor, let us not lower ourselves to the same level as those scoundrels. Grantal, your father is alive and well. He has been taken prisoner by the sword-saint himself under the suspicion of organizing a racial wide rebellion — igniting a possible civil war among the entire elfin population."

  Harwin tried to stop Landel, but he paid no heed to the signals of his friend and continued:

  "Do you understand the severity of the charge. Also the fact of the matter is that he admitted to all of it. His motives might have been honourable, but none the less, he got involved with nasty, corrupt people. If he were allowed to continue, thousands would have died and the remaining would have been taken prisoners, or to be more precise, as slaves by the other nations. Think of the children, the women, and the older folks. Do you understand what I am saying?”

  Landel did not bend his words, he had always been straightforward — a trait that someone in his position could afford to have.

  “LIES! ALL LIES! MY FATHER, THE MOST NOBLE—”

  A sword was held against his neck before he could finish the sentence. The swiftness of the swordsmen was unmatched.

  Landel looked him dead in the eye and stated callously:

  “Believe what you will, but do not think that we are the same men as those who have brought the entire race to the possible brink of extinction. If you stand in our way, we will crush you without mercy. The only reason that you are not rotting in a dungeon is because a son should not be punished for the crimes of his father. I advise you to ponder about what I explained to you. You will connect the dots, I am sure of it, and when you are ready to accept the truth, you will be grateful.”

  Landel slowly removed his blade and sheathed it. Grantal fell to the ground and gasped for air — his eyes were full of hate but with a tinge of confusion as well.

  Landel and Harwin left the quarters. The prodigy asked for two men to be assigned to the room as well. Grantal though not a threat on his own was the son of the leader of the rebel. He could possibly be used as replacement for his father.

  All of them met at the building’s assembly ground in the after-noon. All of the guards were gathered there for an announcment (only the ones employed by the concil-men). It was Farelen who addressed them:

  “Younglings! I am Farelen, captain of the main force of the elfin nation which is directly lead by the great Sword-saint, Graftel. I have come here to take charge of this town for a brief time period. The town’s council have agreed to all of this, as they recognize the supreme authority of the sword-saint. Your captain, rather your commander, Thrandul, can attest to that.” Farelen pointed his hand towards Thrandul who was standing beside him.

  “It is true younglings. I am officially handing my duties and authority over to Captain Farelen. The details of this shift are sensitive in nature and can not be revealed in its entirety, but rest assured we are in safe hands.” Thrandul vouched for Farelen.

  The keep of the guards was paid by the council-men yet their loyalty lied only with their commander who had trained them from the ground up. The council folks had entrusted the responsibility of all battle-related activities to Thrandul and Lyrital, thus the entire force adhered to the command of them and only them.

  “As my comrade here stated, the matter is a sensitive one. A grave and dangerous situation has risen and to deal with it, I have been sent directly by my and yours, one and only true leader, Graftel. The orders for you are simple: do your assigned duties as you already were except anyone stationed in the main building will be replaced by other soldiers. Those men will be selected by myself for the task. All of you are entrusted with upholding the peace in the town which you always have, and pray for this perilous situation to pass over without causing any harm to the harmony of the town. Now that will be all. Other small matters will be dealt with individually.”

  Farelen solved one of the problems for now. Viyetral nodded at his comrade for the excellent work.

  Soon Viyetral and Harwin made their way out of the town-hall. They were to leave for the main hideout, but instead the former made his way through the back-alleys. Harwin followed behind, although he did not know the destination.

  Viyetral stopped by a few shops, he talked for a bit, and then made his way to the next one. This continued for a while. The men they met were ordinary in nature, but were clearly affiliated to the old cause.

  As they were making their way through, they were stopped by a few men. These were youngling guards, so Viyetral immediately questioned:

  "Move aside young ones! You do know who I am, right?"

  "Yes captain, but we must ask you to accompany us." One of the young blood replied in a stern manner.

  Soon the alley was closed as more younglings surrounded the pair from the front as well as the back. It was clear what their intentions were.

  Tension was palpable in the vicinity — the air was thick with feelings of fear and anxiety. The younglings understood the stakes of the situation so none of them took the initiative. The pair had found themselves in quite the pickle, and this time they were not accompanied by their mighty comrades either....

  Dreamlike LitRPG Psychological Slow-Burn

  e?“… Updates: Tues, Thu, Sat | e?“– Status: Polished & Ongoing

  Alex Dawson's quiet life of classes and gaming shatters when he dreams of a crimson sky, a fallen moon, and a stranger on a mirror-like sea.

  The dream doesn't fade. An ancient system awakens, and Alex is dragged into the hidden realms of dreams where some want him to awaken, others want him to break, and one wants him back