The Invincible Young Master

Chapter 48: 48 - Burning woods



"Only a glass," the old elf muttered, as he held the wine glass with a mix of hesitation and curiosity.

"Taste it," Spark encouraged, pouring himself a glass and taking a sip with exaggerated enjoyment.

Seeing Spark take the lead, the old elf's reservations melted away. He lifted the glass to his lips and drained it in one swift motion. "Hmm, it does taste good," he admitted, eyeing the empty glass with a hint of surprise.

"Take another," Spark said, refilling the old elf's glass without waiting for a reply.

The elf shook his head, pushing his glass aside.

"No, I've tasted it. It's genuine," he said, his voice firm but his resolve visibly wavering.

"Take another glass, nothing will happen." Spark insisted, his smile unwavering as he poured more wine into the old elf's glass and topped off his own.

"This is the last one," the old elf finally relented under Spark's persistent urging. With a resigned sigh, he took the glass and gulped it down.

"Another one," Spark offered, filling the glass again almost immediately.

The old elf's cheeks were flushed now, a sign of the wine's effect, but he still seemed to hold onto a shred of his consciousness. He tried to shake off the drink's influence, but the aroma and taste were too enticing. In the end, he gave in to his craving, accepting yet another glass from Spark.

Around the bonfire, the rest of the group watched with a mixture of amusement and mild concern. Princess Ling and Yuna exchanged bemused glances, while Zhao Shi tended to the meal with a knowing smile. Even the soldiers, usually stoic and disciplined, were sneaking curious looks at the unfolding spectacle.

Spark, clearly enjoying the scene, continued pouring glass after glass for the old elf, his grin widening with each pour. The old elf's initial reluctance melted into a haze of indulgence, each sip loosening his demeanor further.

As Spark refilled the old elf's glass yet again, he caught Yuna's eye and gave a subtle nod. Understanding his unspoken signal, Yuna's lips curved into a mischievous grin as she stepped forward.

"W-what are you doing to my woods?" the old elf slurred, his eyes bleary and unfocused, when he noticed Yuna unbuckle the bundle of wood tied to his back.

"Don't worry about the woods, just enjoy the wine." Spark remarked, his tone deceptively casual." And wine is expensive, you know."

Spark appeared like a fox with its prey in sight, his eyes gleaming with playful malice and gestured for Yuna to continue.

The old elf, too inebriated to stand, could only watch in dismay as Yuna took one piece of wood after another and tossed them into the bonfire at the center of their camp.

"Stop," the old elf muttered weakly, but as Spark refilled his glass, he prioritized draining it first.

The fire blazed brighter with each log Yuna added. The flames crackled and leaped higher, and the intensity of the light around their camp surged compared to the soldiers' camps.

Suddenly, strange flickers of light, like ethereal fireflies, began to emanate from the bonfire and spread into the forest, glowing in the dark.

Princess Ling and the others quickly noticed the unique scent wafting from the fire. It spread through the surrounding area rapidly, and everyone inhaled deeply, the aroma filling their senses.

"I like the scent of the burning woods rather than the forest itself," Spark commented poetically, watching the flames dance.

The warm glow from the bonfire intensified, casting a bright, almost magical light that transformed the night into a luminous spectacle. The entire forest around them seemed to light up, casting a serene glow all around.

"What's this?" murmurs of astonishment spread among the soldiers. One by one, they began to feel the changes in their surroundings and their bodies.

"What's happening?" another soldier asked, looking around in bewilderment.

"I feel better," one soldier exclaimed. "My injuries—they're gone."

The fatigue from the day's march evaporated, and even hidden injuries and old scars began to heal, fading away as if by magic. This was no ordinary phenomenon—it was as if the very essence of the forest was working to rejuvenate them.

Zhao Shi, standing near the bonfire, also appeared shocked. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the renewed vigor within him. His gaze flickered between the bonfire and Spark, who was leisurely sipping his wine, seemingly unaffected by the wonder around him.

The old elf, finally able to speak despite his drunken state, looked at the bonfire with a mixture of regret and satisfaction. "I told you... these woods... they are from the world tree. But... no one believes..."

Princess Ling, her eyes wide with amazement, turned to Spark.

"Lord Spark, what's all this?" Princess Ling asked, her voice tinged with awe and curiosity. "Are his words true?"

Spark took another slow sip of his wine before responding with a casual shrug. "Who knows?"

"Can I take a piece of this wood?" Princess Ling asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Spark gestured, his expression welcoming. "Go ahead."

Although she didn't completely believe the old elf, she was intrigued by the mystical properties of the wood. As it was not uncommon for elves to produce such magical plants and trees, She decided to take a piece back and have it researched.

***

As the first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy of Forest, the old elf stirred awake. He blinked blearily, momentarily disoriented by his unfamiliar surroundings.

"Where am I?" he mumbled to himself, rubbing his temples as the remnants of last night's wine-induced haze clung to his senses.

Suddenly, he jerked upright, his eyes darting around the campsite.

"My woods?" Panic laced his voice as he frantically scanned for his precious bundle. His gaze landed on the discarded rope he had used to secure the logs, now lying limp and empty.

Desperation drove his eyes to the remains of the bonfire, where he saw only ashes and charcoal. The faint, lingering scent of the wood wafted through the air, a reminder of what had been consumed by the flames. His heart sank.

Beside the smoldering ashes lay a jug, its sides stained with the last drops of red wine. Next to it, a folded piece of parchment caught his eye. With trembling hands, the old elf picked it up and unfolded it.

It was an apology letter from Spark.

Realization dawned on the old elf, and he slumped to the ground, understanding he had been tricked again.

[A/N: Avoid bad influences, don't be like this old elf.]

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