Chapter 95: Chapter 95: The Trap is Set

Night in Elarwyn was traditionally a symphony of tranquility. Usually, the great boughs of the city would be filled with the soft, melodic whistling of the wind passing through the leaves, accompanied by the gentle, rhythmic pulsing of Light-Bloom clusters that offered a sedative glow to the weary citizens. But tonight, that peace felt brittle—a hollow, artificial silence. Elarwyn was holding its breath. The groans of the tree, which had been loud and visceral, had subsided into a series of faint, high-frequency hisses. It was an ominous sign; the ancient giant was losing the strength even to scream. The black venom was systematically clogging its lifeblood.

In the suffocating darkness of the Western bough, far from the crowds of Elven citizens gathered in the main halls to pray, Dayat knelt upon the rough, ancient bark. He didn’t use a flashlight. In this world of magic, a beam of artificial light was a beacon for trouble. Instead, he relied on his GPNVG-18 night-vision goggles, their four lenses giving him a wide, emerald-hued perspective of the shadows. Beside him, Kancil assisted by holding various pieces of equipment, his hands occasionally trembling as the phantom scent of “Holy Oil” lingered in his mind.

“Cil, hold this for a second. Grip it tight,” Dayat whispered, handing over a small, matte-black cube.

Kancil took the object with extreme care, his brow furrowed. “What is this, Bang? It looks like a jewelry box, but… colder. And scarier.”

Dayat offered a thin, focused smile, his eyes never leaving the textured surface of the tree. “This is a camera, Cil. In simple terms, it’s a fake eye that never blinks and never sleeps. Whatever it sees is transmitted directly to the tablet in my hand. It means that even if we’re hiding hundreds of meters away, we can see exactly who passes by here, even in total, absolute darkness.”

Kancil tilted his head, trying to reconcile the concept with his own reality. “You mean… we can catch that shadow without actually being here? Like an invisible scouting spell?”

“Similar to a spell, but it doesn’t use a drop of Mana,” Dayat replied firmly. “And that’s our greatest advantage. Whoever this ’Ghost’ is, they’re a high-level magic user. They’d feel a magical trap the moment they stepped into the sector. But this? It’s just a collection of glass, copper, and silicon. It has no aura. In their eyes, it’s as lifeless as a fallen twig.”

Dayat returned his concentration to the task at hand. His pace slowed, becoming meticulously cautious. He was manifesting component by component, integrating them into the very fiber of the tree. He visualized the CMOS (Complementary Metal-Oxide-Semiconductor) Sensor, sensitive to the faintest photons of light; the vari-focal lenses with high-optical zoom capabilities; and the micro-frequency wireless transmitters he had modified to hide their signals within the natural static of Elarwyn’s atmosphere.

He fashioned the camera’s outer casing using a synthetic polymer that he textured to mimic the rough, mossy bark of the World Tree. He even grafted a few strands of real, organic moss onto the edges to ensure the camouflage was flawless. No screws were visible; no wires trailed along the wood. Everything was embedded deep within the natural fissures of the bough.

“Dola, status check on synchronization for Cameras One through Four,” Dayat whispered.

“Synchronization complete, Master,” Dola’s voice resonated directly in Dayat’s auditory nerves via the ear-comm. “Camera One covers the primary irrigation valve. Cameras Two and Three monitor the entry and exit points of the Kenanga groves. Camera Four is positioned as a wide-angle backup. All systems are operating in passive mode. Zero Mana emission detected.”

Dayat let out a long sigh of relief, standing up and brushing the bark dust from his olive-green denim. “Now, for the final bait.”

He pulled out a small glass vial containing a bright, neon-golden liquid that glowed with an intense brilliance. In his old world, this might have been nothing more than a glucose solution mixed with high-viscosity fluorescent dye. But for the Elves of Elarwyn, Dayat had labeled it the “Nura Essence Antidote”—a legendary cure that could supposedly purge the black rot within an hour if introduced into the central valve.

He placed the vial directly in front of the irrigation hub, positioning it so that it caught the faint moonlight. It was a blatant, irresistible lure. Dayat knew the traitor couldn’t afford to let a cure work. He would have to come personally to destroy the antidote before the first rays of dawn revealed his failure.

“Bang, are you sure he’ll come? He’s a big shot on the Council. Why wouldn’t he just send a lackey?” Kancil asked as they began to retreat from the sector.

“Because this poison is too specific, Cil. The Brassvale Inquisition might have provided the venom, but only an Elf who knows the exact anatomy of the World Tree can inject it into the primary sap-veins without killing the tree instantly. He doesn’t trust anyone else with something this critical. He’s a man driven by a hunger for power, and men like that only feel safe when their own hands are on the hilt of the knife.”

The two of them, along with Dola, slipped away to a small, unassuming structure located about two hundred meters from the Western bough. It was a tool shed for irrigation maintenance that Dayat had converted into a makeshift command post. Inside, Dayat powered on a Rugged Monitoring Tablet, covering the screen with a black cloth to prevent any light bleed from alerting guards or spies.

The screen was divided into a quad-view. High-contrast, black-and-white images filled the boxes—Infrared Night Vision. Dayat could see every minute detail of the irrigation valve, every sway of the giant leaves, and even the heat signature of a stray Pixie fluttering past. Everything was crystalline, far clearer than what any human eye could perceive in the dead of night.

“Incredible… you really do have eyes everywhere, Big Bro,” Kancil whispered, mesmerized by the glowing movement on the screen. “If we had stuff like this back in Bakasa, I wouldn’t have had to climb those rusty rooftops to spy on the gang meetings.”

“My world has a lot of tools for watching people, Cil. Sometimes for good, sometimes for bad. Tonight, we use it for the right reasons,” Dayat said, sitting on the cold wooden floor and leaning his back against a stack of nutrient sacks. “Now, we wait. Dola, activate Motion Detection. If any humanoid-sized object enters a ten-meter radius of the bait, give me a visual haptic alert.”

“Understood, Master. Running motion-pattern recognition algorithms.”

Time seemed to crawl with an agonizing slowness. Waiting was the most taxing part of any trap. One hour passed, then two. Elarwyn grew even more silent. The groans of the tree faded into a haunting stillness—not a sign of recovery, but a sign that the World Tree’s vitality had reached a critical nadir. Dayat checked the digital clock on his tablet. 02:45 AM.

Kancil was starting to nod off beside him, his head occasionally dipping toward his chest. But suddenly, a small red indicator began to pulse in the top-left corner of the tablet. Dola provided the signal.

“Master, detecting movement at Camera Two. Northwest sector. The subject is moving using a sound-elimination technique. Atmospheric pressure fluctuations around the subject indicate the use of low-tier wind magic to manipulate air resistance.”

Dayat immediately patted Kancil’s shoulder. The boy jerked awake, his hand instinctively flying to the grip of his Glock 17. Dayat signaled for him to remain calm and quiet.

On the screen, a shadow emerged from the absolute blackness of the Kenanga groves. The figure moved with an eerie fluidity, gliding over the wood like a ghost. He wore a dark, heavy cloak, but as he passed through a narrow beam of sapphire moonlight, the unique, shimmering quality of his silver silk robes flashed for a split second under the infrared sensor.

“There he is…” Dayat hissed.

Dayat initiated the Optical Zoom. The image on the screen enlarged, the resolution sharpening. The traitor’s face was now visible in terrifying detail. There was no trace of the charming, diplomatic smile or the regal handsomeness the citizens of Elarwyn adored. Under the unblinking gaze of Dayat’s camera, the traitor’s face was a mask of cold, dark ambition. He stopped directly in front of the “Antidote” vial.

The traitor pulled a small, ornate container from his belt—the same black venom Dayat had analyzed. He began to murmur a low incantation, likely a spell to amplify the poison’s potency before re-injecting it into the primary valve.

“Dola, record everything. I want his face and that injector in the same frame. I want proof that even the High Council can’t talk their way out of,” Dayat ordered, his voice barely a breath.

“Recording initiated. Facial biometric lock engaged. Cross-referencing with the Council of Root Guardians database. 100% match. Subject confirmed as Mileon, Member of the High Council of Elarwyn.”

Dayat stared at the screen with a clinical coldness. Mileon raised his hand, preparing to shatter Dayat’s fake glass vial. On the screen, the Elf’s arrogance was palpable. He believed he was invisible, believed his magic had shielded his presence from every living thing in the forest.

“Caught you, Ghost,” Dayat whispered. He picked up his radio-comm, pressing the push-to-talk button. “Governor Caelmir, the target is in position. He is initiating a secondary sabotage. Bring your Paladins in now. Execute the pincer maneuver from the East and South Kenanga boughs. Do not give him an opening to take flight.”

On the screen, Dayat watched as Mileon suddenly froze. The Elf’s sharp instincts as a high-tier mage seemed to catch a vibration that felt “wrong,” even though Dayat wasn’t using a drop of Mana. Mileon looked around, his silver eyes narrowing in suspicion.

But it was too late. Brilliant flares of Paladin light spells erupted from the darkness surrounding him. Dayat stood up, snapping his tablet shut with a grimly satisfied smile. The hunt on the branches of Elarwyn had officially begun, and this time, the “Ghost” had nowhere left to hide.

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