Chapter 3 Plot Against Eryndor

Eryndor walked through the forest, determined to find Lyrien. He wanted answers.

As he walked, he met more elves. They looked at him with disgust and scorn.

Eryndor wondered, "Why do they hate me?"

Then, he realized the truth. Perhaps the old Eryndor was unpopular among the elves.

He pushed aside his doubts and kept walking. He knew Heartwood Palace would be the biggest building in the forest. Only royalties and nobles will live in big houses.

After twenty minutes, the palace appeared. It was made from giant trees, with beautiful carvings that glowed.

Eryndor approached the gates, where two stern elves guarded.

"Halt!" one said. "Why are you here?"

Eryndor stood tall. "I'm here to see Lyrien. We have unfinished business."

The guards looked at each other uncertainly.

"Wait," one said, going into the palace.

Eryndor waited, his heart racing. He didn't know what to expect. He had no memory of this world's Eryndor. If only he had it, things would be easier... Still, it won't matter, he wants to clear up this misunderstanding and live out a peaceful life.

"I can't wait for the guard to get back to me, I have to do this." Eryndor said to himself.

Eryndor entered the grand throne room of Heartwood Palace. Two elves sat at the far end: a middle-aged male with wise eyes and a young, muscular male with a scowl. The guard saw him, bowed and excused himself. Perhaps the guard didn't want to interfere in the dealings of the dou.

Eryndor recognized the scowling elf as Lyrien, his half-brother. The older elf must be their father.

As Eryndor approached, shock froze their faces.

"How dare you interrupt!" Lyrien shouted, rage flashing in his eyes. "This is a royal meeting!"

"A royal meeting? Wasn't the Eryndor also royalty? Then why was he excluded?" Eryndor muttered. Too bad they got me now.

Eryndor stood tall. "I too am of royal birth. I have a right to be here." His voice reverberated with confidence which made Lyrien wince.

The middle-aged elf's expression turned stern. "You ceased to be royalty when you abandoned Elysia for the human city, Eryndor. You forfeited your birthright."

Eryndor's eyes locked onto Lyrien. "I didn't abandon anyone. You were all deceived."

Lyrien sneered. "Lies! You chose humans over your own kin."

The older elf raised a hand, silencing Lyrien. "Enough! Eryndor, you've been gone for almost a week. Why return now?"

"A week? But the former Eryndor never left the forest, so what he doing in that thicker part of the forest alone?" Eryndor thought to himself.

Eryndor's voice firm. "I seek truth. What happened to me? Why did Lyrien spread lies?"

Lyrien's face darkened. "You'll get no answers. You're nothing but a half-breed traitor."

Eryndor frowned, "It's a lie! I never left Elysia forest!"

Lyrien snarled, "You're calling Grand Elder Thorne a liar?"

"I never said that!" Eryndor almost shouted.

The middle-aged elf's face turned cold. "Eryndor, you're banished from Elysia. You're no longer welcome until you prove yourself worthy."

"Just like that!?" Eryndor questioned them, but no reply came. Eryndor realized his words fell on deaf ears. He turned to leave.

As the throne room door creaked shut, he heard the elder elf's chilling words:

"I thought you killed him, Lyrien."

"I did," Lyrien replied. "I made sure he was dead. I'm surprised he still lives."

The elder elf's voice dripped with malice. "Take some elves, ensure his body's never found. Kill him, burn his body."

Eryndor's heart racing, he slipped out of the palace, his mind reeling.

Lyrien tried to kill him? Why?

Eryndor knew he had to escape, clear his name, and uncover the truth.

He vanished into the forest, determined to survive and fight back.

Eryndor's mind raced. Who could he trust? He decided to flee, retracing his steps to the spot where Gaia reincarnated him.

Maybe he could find safety there.

He sprinted through the forest, dodging trees and leaping over roots.

Finally, he reached the familiar clearing.

But his relief was short-lived.

An arrow whizzed past his ear, grazing his shoulder.

Eryndor spun around, pain searing his arm.

More than ten elves surrounded him, bows drawn, arrows nocked.

Lyrien sneered, leading the group.

"You should have stayed dead, half-breed," Lyrien spat.

Eryndor's heart sank. He was trapped.

The elves closed in, their arrows aimed at his heart.

Eryndor knew he had to act fast.

Eryndor knew his life was on the line. But he refused to give up.

Memories of his military training flooded his mind: martial arts, combat tactics, and strategic thinking.

As a cadet, private, captain, and major, he had honed his skills.

Now, he'd use them to survive.

The elves charged, arrows flying.

Eryndor dodged and weaved, avoiding deadly shots.

He spotted an elf closing in and delivered a swift kick, sending the elf crashing.

Next, he disarmed another elf, using his opponent's momentum against him.

Eryndor's hands moved swiftly, taking down elves with precision.

He executed a perfect roundhouse kick, followed by a series of swift punches.

Elves fell, stunned or injured, but Lyrien remained untouched.

Lyrien sneered, "You're no match for us, half-breed."

Eryndor countered, "We'll see about that."

With a fierce cry, Eryndor launched himself at Lyrien.

Their blades clashed, sparks flying.

Eryndor parried Lyrien's attacks, landing blows.

Lyrien stumbled back, surprised by Eryndor's skill.

The other elves hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Seizing the moment, Eryndor knocked Lyrien's sword aside.

Lyrien fell, but Eryndor spared his life.

"I'll let you live," Eryndor said, panting. "But next time, you won't be so lucky."

Eryndor stood victorious, surrounded by defeated elves.

Lyrien glared, hatred burning in his eyes.

"This isn't over," Lyrien snarled.

Eryndor smiled grimly. "I'm ready."

"You should kill me now, the next time I set my eyes on you, it would be your last day in this world." Lyrien said and gathered the battered elves and ran off.

"Ding!

Congratulations to Host on sparing the lives of ten elves. Host has been awarded one hundred goody points." A robotic voice sounded in his head.

"Goody points? What's that? And who are you?"

"Ding!

Allow me to clarify. I am the two faced system, granted to you by the goddess Gaia. When host kills or does evil things, host is awarded chaos points, and when host does good deeds, he is awarded goody points. Points can be exchanged for skills, weapons, scrolls, and most importantly, magic arts."

Eryndor screamed in ecstasy. "Holy Moly! I got a system!"