Eliakim crouched on the edge of the square rooftop, surveying the scene below through narrowed eyes. The merchant's adventurers—twenty-five in total—had taken up positions throughout the village square. Some stood guard at the perimeter, others watched over the crying children and trembling young women huddled in the center. The air was heavy with tension and dread.
He whispered to Skyling, who perched beside him, wings tight to her back, her golden eyes sharp. "No mistakes. We do this clean, quiet. I won't let them suffer."
The bracelet on his wrist shimmered faintly, invisible to others, but pulsing with power. The chain around his pinky finger gleamed with a soft blue hue. As he summoned the Codex of Imreth, the chain slowly lifted and extended outward, curling through the air like a living serpent. It reached forward and gently touched Eliakim's forehead, searing a mark of luminous sigils upon his skin that only he could perceive. The Codex, now fully awakened and part of him, responded to his silent call.
Pages of thought unfurled in his mind—strategies, formations, psychological profiles, escape routes. It wasn't like reading. It was like remembering something he hadn't lived. Every movement of the adventurers, every twitch of muscle, became a variable to manipulate.
He chose a strategy drawn from the ancient war archives embedded in the Codex, used once by a warrior king who liberated 300 prisoners without spilling a single drop of blood: The Crescent Web.
Phase 1: Misdirection
Eliakim placed small explosive distractions—crafted from herbs and materials he had gathered previously—around the square. With precise timing, they would go off in sequence, drawing the guards inward toward the center.
When the first explosion cracked the silence near the well, half the adventurers turned, swords raised. Another boom followed behind the bakery. The adventurers formed a defensive ring, leaving the hostages momentarily unattended by two guards.
Phase 2: Divide and Confuse
Skyling fluttered silently overhead, using her evolved ability to reflect light, creating ghostlike illusions of children fleeing in different directions. The guards shouted and chased the illusions, abandoning their posts.
From his perch, Eliakim hurled a smoke vial toward the center, cloaking the hostages. Then he dropped, silent as a shadow, landing behind the remaining two guards.
A quick strike to the first with a pressure-point dart, a flip of his borrowed staff to trip the second, and both were down without harm. The children gasped, then recognized him.
"Follow me," he whispered.
Phase 3: The Hollow Escape
Eliakim led them through the back alleys, winding them away from the square. Skyling flew ahead, projecting the illusion that the hostages were still huddled in the center of the smoke.
He placed markers along the path—breadcrumbs of misdirection encoded with minor enchantments from the Book of Infinite Pages. To the pursuers, they would look like moving footprints, echoing laughter, or shifting shadows.
Phase 4: Pressure from Within
The adventurers regrouped in confusion. The smoke cleared. The hostages were gone.
Panic took root. The merchant screamed orders. "Find them! All of them! NOW!"
But each direction they ran led to false trails. The Codex of Imreth had mapped every corner of Yldrahollow in seconds. They were running in loops, chasing ghosts.
By the time Eliakim returned to the far edge of the village, the real hostages were hidden safely inside Elder Marell's root cellar, guarded by enchanted vines that would strangle anyone with ill intent.
Eliakim emerged alone into the light.
Confrontation
The merchant was red-faced, his robes disheveled. "Where are they?! Where are the brats?!"
Eliakim stepped forward. "Safe. That's all you need to know."
The adventurers turned toward him. Skyling dropped from the sky with a shriek, landing behind Eliakim, feathers flared. Her evolved form cast a daunting silhouette.
"You want to make enemies of us, boy?" one mercenary spat.
"No," Eliakim said calmly. "I want to make a deal."
He held up a fake scroll—a decoy treasure map he had prepared. "I know where there's another ghoststone cavern. Double the size. Undisturbed. And a path only I know."
The merchant froze, eyes narrowing. Greed warred with suspicion.
"You're bluffing."
Eliakim smiled faintly. "Am I? Or are you willing to risk the wrath of someone who outsmarted all of your elite fighters?"
The merchant hesitated. The adventurers exchanged glances. Some were clearly unnerved.
"Give me the hostages," Eliakim continued, "and I'll lead you there. Refuse, and you leave here with nothing but shame."
After a long pause, the merchant spat on the ground. "Fine. But I expect results."
Eliakim bowed slightly. "Tomorrow. At dawn. Alone."
The adventurers sheathed their weapons. The tension broke. Slowly, the merchant and his men began their retreat, escorted warily by a few brave villagers.
That night, Eliakim stood over the village square, watching the stars. Skyling nestled beside him, calm once more.
He had bought them time. Not forever. But enough.
The Codex pulsed at his finger, a rhythm that echoed with potential. It had not only offered knowledge. It had believed in his judgment.
In that quiet moment, Eliakim realized: power did not always lie in force.
Sometimes, the sharpest blade was the mind sharpened by purpose.