They left Thornbridge early with heavy clouds gathering overhead. The wind smelled like rain and trouble. Ressa signaled her team into a tighter formation. Torin vanished into the woods ahead. Master Valen walked at Alan’s side in silence.

By midday they reached a narrow section of the Royal Road where the cliffs sloped on one side and thick forest pressed in from the other. Torin reappeared suddenly and whispered. Ambush ahead. Ten men. Crossbows. Hiding above.

Ressa cursed under her breath. Which faction. Torin shook his head. They have no insignias. Could be hired mercenaries.

Alan calculated instantly. If it were the kingdom they would send soldiers openly. If it were the church they would send inquisitors. If it were the guild they would use stealth not crossbows. That left one possibility. Nobles.

Nobles who feared his influence.

Before Alan could speak a bolt shot from the cliff and struck the dirt inches from his foot. More bolts followed. Ressa pushed him behind a fallen tree. Torin disappeared again. Mira the healer shielded the flank with faint mana light.

Master Valen stepped forward with a grim expression. This is foolishness. Whoever arranged this will regret it.

He raised his staff and a wave of red energy swept across the cliffside forcing the attackers to reveal themselves. Eight mercenaries stumbled back from their hiding places. They wore mixed armor and carried crossbows but bore a single symbol on their belts. A silver hawk.

Valen’s eyes narrowed. House Halrien. A noble family known for controlling a large portion of the kingdom’s mana reserves. They feared losing profit if Dustfall’s exchange spread.

The mercenaries shouted. Hand over the boy alive. Or we shoot again.

Ressa drew her blade. Over my dead body.

Alan realized this wasn’t a simple attack. It was a message from someone in the capital: Dustfall’s guildmaster should be afraid.

But fear was just another market behavior. And Alan understood markets.

He looked at Ressa. Hold the line. He looked at Valen. Can you disarm them without killing. Valen scoffed. I can do much more but I will restrain myself for your sake.

Alan stood up before anyone could stop him. He faced the cliff openly.

One of the mercenaries shouted. Surrender or die. Alan replied calmly. If you kill me Dustfall’s exchange collapses. Prices will spiral. Mana shortages will hit the capital. And House Halrien will be blamed for destabilizing the kingdom. You think your employer did not consider that.

The mercenaries hesitated. Alan’s voice remained cold and controlled. If your employer wanted me dead you would not be using crossbows. You would be using poison. Or assassins. They want to test my fear. Not kill me.

He took a step forward. Let me guess. They promised gold. Told you the guildmaster was unguarded. Told you I was weak. But you did not expect a royal mage. You did not expect a frontier escort. You did not expect consequences.

Master Valen tapped his staff lightly and the ground shook. A warning.

The mercenaries panicked. The leader grabbed his helm. We were not told— this was supposed to be easy. Alan raised his chin. Nothing about Dustfall is easy anymore.

Ressa shouted. Drop your weapons. Now.

One by one, the mercenaries threw down their crossbows. Torin reappeared behind them with a blade pressed to one’s throat. They froze.

Alan approached the leader. Who hired you. The man swallowed hard. A messenger. Silver cloak. Said the job came from Lord Halrien’s aide. Said the boy was a danger to the economy.

Alan nodded. That confirmed everything. Someone in House Halrien feared losing control over the kingdom’s mana.

Master Valen stepped forward. I will report this directly to the king. Attempting to harm a summoned guest is treason. The mercenaries looked like they would faint.

Ressa scowled. What do we do with them. Alan looked at the crest on their belts. These men are not the enemy. They are tools. Tools break easily. Let them leave with a message.

He turned to the leader. Tell your employer this. Dustfall is not alone. And the guildmaster is not afraid.

The mercenaries fled into the forest.

When the dust settled Mira exhaled. That was too close. Ressa shook her head. You stood out in the open. Again. Alan replied. Fear is useful when you understand it. It is deadly when you do not.

Master Valen stared at Alan with new respect. You speak like someone who has negotiated with kings before. Alan answered. I negotiate with adventurers every day. Kings are not so different.

They continued down the Royal Road in tense silence. But something had shifted. The attack proved that the journey to Eldergate was not welcome by all nobles. It proved Alan’s influence terrified powerful people. It proved Dustfall had shaken the foundations of the kingdom’s mana economy.

As they reached a ridge overlooking the distant plains Torin pointed ahead. Eldergate lies beyond that horizon. Two more days.

Alan stared at the distant shape of the capital. Majestic towers rising like stone spears. The heart of the kingdom. The center of power. The place where markets were shaped and kingdoms rose or fell.

He whispered quietly. All this trouble before I even arrive.

Ressa grinned. Imagine what happens once you walk through their gates.

Alan tightened his grip on his notebook. The journey was dangerous. The politics worse. But the exchange needed recognition. Dustfall needed protection. And the kingdom needed clarity.

He walked forward.

The road to Eldergate was no longer a summons.
It was a battlefield.
And the true war was about to begin.