Nathaniel’s expression turned grim. He didn’t dare linger and quickly led his men to safer ground. Only after they’d gotten far away from that strange area did everyone finally breathe a sigh of relief.
It was a perfect example of how a single spark can start a wildfire. One soldier’s touch on a flower had triggered a violent chain reaction, and the consequences were terrifying.
Now Nathaniel and his men finally understood that this seemingly dazzling, beautiful landscape was actually full of deadly traps.
“Take a moment to rest, but stay alert,” he ordered, leaning on his sword as he gasped for breath.
Sweat seeped into the wound on his back, and the pain was so intense that he was on the verge of passing out. He signaled two of his personal guards to keep watch while he rested against a tree trunk.
In just a few minutes, he had lost over a dozen skilled soldiers. The weight of their deaths pressed heavily on him.
The medical team worked quickly to bandage the wounded. As soon as the medicinal powder was applied to the wounds scratched by the vines, white smoke hissed up, and the injured grimaced in pain.
A soldier suddenly pointed ahead and said, “Your Highness, look over there.”
Everyone followed his finger and saw a wisp of bluish-gray smoke rising from deep within the fog-shrouded valley. It rose steadily through the damp air.
The smoke didn’t swirl like ordinary household smoke. Instead, it moved with a quiet, measured rhythm, as if it had lingered there for centuries.
“Smoke?” Nathaniel asked, snapping upright and forgetting the pain from his wounds.
Since Elysium Isle was a sanctuary for immortals, finding one here made sense. That smoke had to be coming from one of their homes.
Nathaniel’s eyes lit up with joy. All their losses up to this point suddenly felt worthwhile.
“Everyone, fall in,” he commanded, drawing his sword and pointing toward where the smoke was rising. “Stay alert and follow me. We’ll pay our respects to the immortal.”
The soldiers gripped their weapons once more. Exhaustion melted away, replaced by excitement. After all, what did a few injuries matter if they could obtain the elixir of immortality?
As the group followed a winding stream forward, the plants around them grew calmer. The ferns that had been moving shrank back to the edges of the path, and the vines hung down like ordinary branches, as if afraid of something.
They passed through a thicket of bushes bearing purple fruits and suddenly reached a grove of tall, lush trees. The trunks stretched at least 30 feet high, each branch catching a faint golden light. The leaves brushed against one another, producing a soft, clear rustling.
At the far end of the grove, a gray-blue roof came into view. That was where the smoke had been rising from.
“Slow down,” Nathaniel said, motioning for the others to move quietly. He then straightened his blood-stained battle robe to maintain a respectful posture.
They followed a narrow path through the grove of tall, lush trees and soon came upon a yard enclosed by a wooden fence. Pale blue morning glories climbed the fence, and their petals were still dotted with dew.
There was a swing in the center of the yard with the ropes tied to two sturdy tree branches. A young child in a plain outfit sat on it, gently swaying back and forth.
The child looked no older than five, with hair tied into two small buns. His skin was fair, and his bare feet pressed against the swing’s footboard. Dark, glossy eyes stared at the sky while he hummed a tuneless nursery rhyme.
Several homespun clothes hung drying in the yard, and half a basket of freshly picked wild fruit sat in one corner. Everything seemed so ordinary, yet there was an indescribable sense of tranquility about it.
A spark of realization hit Nathaniel. Perhaps that child in this sanctuary might be the apprentice of an immortal. So, he stepped forward quietly and spoke gently with a respectful gesture.
“Greetings. I am Nathaniel Linsor. I’ve accidentally wandered onto this Elysium Isle. Pardon me, young sir, could you tell me if this is the abode of the immortals?”
The child kept swinging. His eyes fixed on the sky, and he seemed not to hear a word.
Nathaniel patiently asked again. He spoke with even greater deference. “If you know where the immortals are, please tell us. We would sincerely like to pay our respects and greet them.”
This time, the child finally reacted. He let out a snort, but was still staring at the drifting clouds above.
Leander Grimsby, the commander standing behind Nathaniel, could no longer hold back his anger. His left arm had been scalded by the carnivorous plant’s sap and was still throbbing painfully.
Seeing the child’s rudeness, he stepped forward and shouted, “How dare you ignore His Highness’ question?”
Before Nathaniel could stop him, Leander had already strode toward the swing. He grabbed the child by the back of his collar and yanked him up.
The child’s feet lifted off the ground, but his expression remained unreadable. Only his sharp dark eyes slowly turned toward Leander.
“You’re just a puny brat, and yet you dare show an attitude be-”
Before Leander could finish speaking, he suddenly let out an agonizing scream.
Everyone saw the child raise his small fist and deliver what looked like a light punch toward Leander’s chest.
Leander’s massive frame flew backward like a ragdoll, slamming hard into the wooden fence. The crisp sound of breaking ribs could be heard from a distance.
He curled up on the ground, with black blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. A section of his chest had caved in, and it didn’t look like he could survive.
The place fell into dead silence as all the soldiers stared in shock. No one had expected this seemingly harmless child to possess such terrifying strength.
The child returned to the swing. He kicked his feet lazily, as if the earlier chaos had never happened. He finally spoke, and his voice was clear, yet carried undeniable authority.
“Intruders, you’re disturbing my rest.”
