The Transmigrated Author

Meanwhile, at the edge of the commotion, General Krath had regained consciousness. He was attempting to crawl away unnoticed, his armor scraping against the cobblestones as he inched toward a narrow alleyway.

"I need to let the Lord know before these bastards start a revolution…"

DING!

Rel's sharp eyes caught the movement from the corner of his vision.

A subtle shifting of metal against stone, the faint scrape of armor trying to move silently.

He turned his head slightly, watching as General Krath attempted his pathetic escape, dragging himself inch by inch toward the alley's shadows.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"…!"

The crowd parted as Rel strode toward the fallen commander.

The general's face contorted with a mixture of pain and defiance as he rolled onto his back, one hand instinctively reaching for a dagger at his belt.

"I wouldn't,"

THUD!

EEEK!

He placed his boot firmly on the general's wrist, twisting and pinning it to the ground.

"You've already seen what happens when you choose violence."

General Krath's eyes darted around wildly, searching for allies among the crowd, but found only hostile stares and barely concealed satisfaction at his predicament.

"Kill me then," he spat, a thin line of blood trickling from his split lip.

"The Iron Lord will avenge me tenfold."

Rel crouched down, bringing his face level with the general's.

"I have a better idea," he said softly, so only Krath could hear.

"You're going to lead us to your fortress. We wish to speak with your lord on even terms."

A bark of laughter erupted from the general's throat, quickly dissolving into a pained cough.

"You think I'd betray my lord? I'd rather die here in the dirt."

"Would you?"

"Because I don't think you would. I think beneath all that armor beats the heart of a survivor. Someone who understands that sometimes, living to fight another day is the better part of valor."

Anouz and Christian approached, flanking Rel on either side. The sight of the three of them standing together, backlit by the sun.

"Besides, we're not asking you to betray anyone. We genuinely wish to speak with your leader. If he's as powerful as everyone claims, he should have nothing to fear from three travelers."

General Krath's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Just... talk?"

"Just talk,"

Rel confirmed, removing his boot from the general's wrist and offering a hand to help him up.

The general ignored the outstretched hand, struggling to his feet on his own. He swayed slightly, one hand pressed against his jaw where their synchronized punch had connected.

For a long moment, General Krath stood there.

His eyes darted between the three strangers, then to the crowd of villagers whose faces showed a mixture of hope and vengeance. Finally, he glanced up toward the distant fortress perched on the mountainside, its iron battlements gleaming in the afternoon sun.

"Very well," he said finally, his voice a low growl. "I will take you to the Iron Lord. But know this—if you make any move against him, the full might of the Iron Fist will descend upon you like a hammer on an anvil."

Rel nodded, his expression unreadable. "We understand."

As General Krath turned to lead the way, he subtly adjusted the metal bracer on his left arm.

He pressed a hidden mechanism, causing a small red light to blink three times beneath the armor plating.

_Signal sent. The fortress will be ready._

…

…

…

The journey to the fortress was tense and silent. General Krath led them through winding streets that gradually inclined upward, each turn bringing them closer to the imposing structure that dominated the skyline.

Villagers peered from windows and doorways as they passed.

"Your arrival has caused quite a stir," Krath remarked dryly, breaking the silence. "We don't get many outsiders with the... audacity to challenge Iron Fist soldiers in broad daylight."

"We're not challenging anyone," Christian replied evenly.

"As Rel said, we just want to talk."

Krath snorted, a sound somewhere between amusement and contempt.

"Talk. Yes. With fists that can shatter bone."

As they continued their ascent, the cobblestone streets gave way to a wider, paved road. Guards became more frequent, positioned at regular intervals along the path.

Each soldier stiffened to attention as General Krath passed, but their eyes lingered on the three strangers with undisguised suspicion.

Rel noticed how the guards' hands never strayed far from their weapons.

What was even more concerning was the subtle hand signals they exchanged after the group passed.

They were quick furtive gestures that spoke volumes to those who understood their meaning.

-They're preparing an ambush.

Rel realized, catching Anouz's eye with a meaningful glance.

Anouz gave an almost imperceptible nod.

-I know.

The road curved sharply, revealing the fortress in its full glory.

Then their systems chimed in at the same time.

DING!

[Third Landmark Has Been Discovered!]

[Landmark of the Iron Fist: The Fortress of the Iron Lord (3/3)]

[10 Skill points have been added...]

The notification appeared simultaneously for all three of them, but before they could access their systems to allocate the points, a contingent of heavily armed guards stepped forward, blocking their path.

Their armor was more elaborate than the soldiers in the town, with jagged spikes protruding from the shoulders and helmets that concealed their faces entirely.

"Halt!"

The lead guard's voice boomed through his helmet, amplified by some unseen mechanism.

"State your business with General Krath."

General Krath stepped forward, his posture stiff.

"These... visitors wish to speak with the Iron Lord. They claim it's a matter of importance."

The guard's helmet tilted slightly as he studied the three strangers. Though his face wasn't visible, the suspicion in his stance was unmistakable.

"Wait here," he commanded, turning to a smaller, more agile-looking guard.

"Inform the Iron Lord immediately."

The messenger nodded and darted through a side entrance, disappearing into the fortress.

Anouz shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his system screen that still hovered invisibly before him, visible only to his eyes. The newly awarded skill points glowed enticingly, but there was no time to distribute them now.

Christian seemed equally frustrated, his fingers twitching as if eager to tap on his own screen.

After what seemed like an eternity, the messenger returned, slightly out of breath.

"The Iron Lord will see them,"

"They are to be escorted to the throne room immediately."

The lead guard nodded stiffly.

"Follow me," he ordered, turning without waiting for a response.