The Invincible Young Master

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Princess Ling's camp stirred to life.

The cold morning air carried visible breaths from drowsy soldiers, stretching stiff limbs after a long night's watch.

The golden glow of the rising sun slowly revealed the landscape, transforming the dark shadows of the night into a picturesque scene.

Spark stepped out of his tent, stretching with casual ease, only to find himself the center of attention.

The soldiers nearby stood frozen, their eyes wide and locked on the ground in front of him.

Just moments before, a pile of treasures had materialized out of thin air.

"Hey, are you seeing this?" one soldier muttered in disbelief to his companion.

"Don't tell me I'm not the only one seeing things?" another rubbed his eyes, as though the sight would disappear with enough effort.

"It must be an illusion to trick us," a third joined, though his voice trembled, unconvinced.

Spark glanced between the soldiers and the mysterious pile of gifts. He chuckled softly, clearly amused by their reactions.

Zhao Shi, as always the epitome of calm, approached the scene.

His expression didn't change as he collected the treasures, stashing them away in his storage bracelet with smooth, efficient movements. It was as though he had done this countless times before, and to him, perhaps, he had.

The soldiers watched in stunned silence, their brains struggling to catch up.

They had seen battles, magic, and strange phenomena—but this? The quiet, unassuming butler from the night before, now handling a small fortune that had appeared out of nowhere like it was nothing unusual, left them speechless.

"Good morning, neighbors," Spark greeted them cheerfully, seemingly unfazed. "Quite the wake-up call, isn't it?"

The soldiers could only nod, still processing the surreal events. To them, the nonchalance of the young master was almost more startling than the pile of treasures itself.

"Nothing to worry about," Spark added with a dismissive wave. "Just another morning in our world."

As if to reinforce the absurd normality of it all, Zhao Shi quietly returned to his routine.

He set up his portable kitchen with quick, precise movements.

Soon, the familiar sounds of cooking filled the air—the clink of utensils, the sizzle of oil, and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables.

The tantalizing aroma of breakfast wafted through the camp, quickly capturing the soldiers' attention.

Their earlier shock gave way to hunger, and they began to gather around, drawn by the smell of Zhao Shi's expert cooking.

After the meal, the group packed up and resumed their journey, the soldiers still murmuring about the strange events that had transpired.

…

Their journey stretched on, each step bringing them closer to the edge of an ancient forest.

The vast, open plains behind them now gave way to towering trees that formed a dense canopy overhead, their thick branches intertwining like the arms of ancient giants.

The air grew cooler as they neared the forest, the scent of moss and wildflowers filling the travelers' senses.

Spark's carriage was the first to stop at the forest's edge, followed by the rest of Princess Ling's entourage.

Soldiers dismounted, groaning in relief as they stretched stiff legs after the long ride.

Spark, looking around at the lush greenery, muttered under his breath, "Finally. I thought we'd never get here."

Throughout the day, his patience had worn thin.

The frequent breaks taken by Princess Ling's group had added frustrating delays to what should have been a simple journey.

At one of these stops, Spark had voiced his irritation to Yuna.

"They're slowing us down," he had grumbled. "At this rate, we'll never make it out of that forest."

Yuna, accustomed to Spark's impatience, had merely shrugged. "They're not used to traveling like us, young master. Besides, it's not like we'll actually meet that old thing."

Spark had rolled his eyes but held his tongue, resigned to the slower pace.

Princess Ling, stepping out of her carriage for the first time since entering the forest, stood still for a moment.

She surveyed her surroundings with a mix of awe and recognition.

The trees here were ancient, their wide, gnarled trunks towering over the group like guardians. The forest floor was thick with soft moss, and sunlight broke through the canopy in narrow beams, casting a gentle, dappled glow.

She inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh, earthy scent that permeated the air.

"This forest," she murmured, almost to herself, "I've seen it on the map."

Her gaze swept across the towering trees, a note of reverence in her expression.

Turning to Spark and the others, she asked, "This is the Feyhaven, The city of elves."

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