Reincarnated Into A World Of Elves As The Only Man-Chapter 44: Sorrel kidnap

Twilight surrendered to darkness as Sorrel led the AMAZON squad through the dense forest that marked the boundary between Moonlight Kingdom and the lawless territories beyond. Fifteen of Queen Elysia’s finest elven warriors moved silently through the undergrowth, their leather boots barely disturbing the carpet of fallen leaves beneath them.

’Mother thinks her throne room intimidations will stop what’s coming,’ Sorrel thought bitterly as she signaled for the squad to halt in a small clearing. ’As if threats and executions could rewrite prophecy.’

"We’ll make camp here for the night," she announced, her silver hair gleaming in what little moonlight filtered through the canopy. "Set a perimeter. Double watch rotations."

Commander Lynnae approached, her tall elven frame moving with predatory grace. Of all the AMAZON warriors, she was the most formidable—a master of water manipulation who could draw moisture from the very air around her.

"Your Highness, we’ve covered nearly thirty miles today," Lynnae said, her voice low. "The trail grows colder with each passing hour. Perhaps we should—"

"We continue at first light," Sorrel cut her off. "My sister is out there somewhere, and I intend to find her before she discovers what she’s truly capable of."

The warriors dispersed efficiently, setting up their sparse camp with practiced movements. No fires would be lit tonight—they couldn’t risk alerting potential enemies to their presence. The forest was known to harbor brigands and worse, creatures that had long ago forgotten their loyalty to any kingdom.

Sorrel stood at the edge of the clearing, amber eyes scanning the treeline. Something prickled at the back of her neck—a sensation of being watched that she couldn’t shake. Years of training had honed her instincts to a razor’s edge.

There—a flicker of movement in the shadows. A pair of eyes reflecting the meager light, then vanishing as quickly as they had appeared.

"Valera," Sorrel called softly to the guard closest to her. "Did you see that? At the northern edge of the clearing."

The guard squinted into the darkness, her hand moving instinctively to the hilt of her sword. "I see nothing, Your Highness."

Sorrel turned to elaborate, but where Valera had stood moments before, there was only empty space. The princess froze, every nerve in her body suddenly alert.

’Impossible,’ she thought, drawing her dagger from its sheath. ’No one moves that silently.’

A scream shattered the night—raw and primal, cut short with frightening abruptness. It came from the eastern edge of their camp.

"Weapons!" Sorrel commanded, her own blade already drawn. Around her, the AMAZON warriors sprang to attention, swords and daggers glinting in the dim light. Water spheres materialized between some warriors’ palms, while others summoned whirling currents of air.

"Formation three," Commander Lynnae ordered, and the warriors immediately arranged themselves in a defensive circle, backs to each other.

"Valera is missing," Sorrel informed them, her voice steady despite the cold fear that crept up her spine. "Mira, Talia—with me. The rest hold position."

With practiced efficiency, the two warriors flanked Sorrel as they moved toward the source of the scream. Mira, a slight woman with unmatched speed, led the way, while Talia—one of their strongest water wielders—brought up the rear.

The forest seemed to close in around them, branches reaching like gnarled fingers. The usual nighttime sounds—insects chirping, small creatures rustling in the undergrowth—had fallen silent. Only their breathing and the soft crunch of leaves beneath their boots broke the unnatural stillness.

They found nothing at first—no sign of struggle, no blood, no body. Then Mira spotted it: a single boot, upended on the forest floor.

"Your Highness," she whispered, pointing to the undergrowth beyond. A trail of disturbed vegetation led deeper into the woods.

Sorrel gestured for them to follow, every sense heightened. As they pushed forward, the vegetation grew thicker, branches clawing at their faces and armor. Then the trail opened into a small hollow—and Sorrel’s blood turned to ice in her veins.

Valera hung suspended between two trees, her body grotesquely inverted. Blood dripped from her fingertips to the forest floor, the steady patter obscenely loud in the silence. Her throat had been torn open with such violence that her head tilted at an impossible angle, connected to her body by only a few sinews and her spine.

Mira retched, turning away from the grisly scene. Talia muttered a prayer, her water sphere expanding defensively around her trembling hands.

"Back to camp," Sorrel ordered, her voice a harsh whisper. "Now. Move!"

They retreated hastily, but as they neared the clearing, another scream rent the air—this one from the opposite direction. Then another. And another.

The clearing erupted into chaos as they emerged from the trees. Warriors darted in different directions, elemental powers flaring in desperate defense against an enemy they couldn’t see.

"Hold formation!" Lynnae bellowed, a massive wave of water rising before her like a shield. "Stand together!"

A dark shape hurtled from the trees, so fast it was little more than a blur. It struck Elene, the youngest of their warriors, lifting her bodily from the ground. Her scream transformed into a wet gurgle as massive jaws clamped around her midsection, crushing armor and bone alike. Blood sprayed in an arc as the creature shook her like a rag doll before disappearing back into the darkness with half her torso.

’Gods, what manner of beast moves so quickly?’ Sorrel thought, cold sweat beading on her forehead as she backed toward the center of the clearing. Her daggers felt woefully inadequate against whatever hunted them.

"Form a circle!" she shouted. "Backs together! Water wielders, create a barrier!"

Eight warriors remained, forming a tight circle. The water wielders raised their hands in unison, creating a rippling dome of liquid that enclosed them completely. Air wielders stood ready to launch cutting blasts at anything that breached their defenses.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the gentle hum of elemental magic.

Then the attack came from below.

The earth beneath their feet erupted, sending them staggering. A massive form burst upward through the soil—towering, green, with limbs like ancient tree trunks. In the scant moonlight, Sorrel caught glimpses of a being that defied comprehension: moss-covered skin, a head that seemed formed from twisted roots, and eyes—dozens of eyes—glowing with an eldritch light.

’The old tales,’ she realized with dawning horror. ’The forest guardians that predate the kingdoms—they’re real.’

"Hold the barrier!" Lynnae shouted as the creature’s massive arm swept through their ranks, shattering the water shield as if it were glass.

Lynnae summoned a torrent of water that sliced toward the monster with the force of a battering ram. It struck true, carving a deep furrow in the creature’s side—but the wound closed almost instantly, moss and roots knitting together before their eyes.

The air wielders launched their attack next, conjuring whirlwinds that tore at the creature’s form. Bark-like skin peeled away in strips, only to regenerate seconds later.

’It’s healing too quickly,’ Sorrel realized as she ducked beneath a swinging limb. ’We need fire—but none of us command that element.’

The creature moved with terrifying speed for its size, one massive hand closing around Talia before she could evade. She screamed, a sound of pure agony as the monster’s grip tightened. Her body compressed unnaturally, blood erupting from her mouth, nose, and eyes before her form simply collapsed in on itself. What remained—a wet, crushed mass of flesh and armor—fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

Nausea rose in Sorrel’s throat, but years of discipline kept her moving. She darted forward, slashing at the creature’s legs with her enchanted daggers. The blades bit deep, severing tendons of twisted root and vine.

The monster howled—a sound like wind tearing through an ancient forest—and dropped to one knee. Its head swiveled unnaturally, dozens of eyes fixing on Sorrel with frightening intelligence.

"Your Highness, fall back!" Lynnae shouted, summoning another massive wave.

But it was too late.

The creature’s arm elongated impossibly, fingers extending into sharp wooden spears that impaled three warriors in a single sweep. They hung from its limb like grotesque decorations, twitching and gasping as their lifeblood drained away.

Mira screamed defiance, leaping toward the monster with unnatural speed, her daggers aimed at its many eyes. She managed to plunge one blade deep into a glowing orb before the creature’s hand closed around her head. With a sickening crunch, it squeezed until her skull collapsed, brain matter and bone fragments splattering those nearby.

Sorrel staggered back, horror threatening to overwhelm her. Of the fifteen who had made camp, only she, Lynnae, and two others remained.

"We can’t defeat it," she gasped, backing toward the edge of the clearing. "We need to retreat—regroup—"

"Too late for that," Lynnae replied grimly, gathering the last of her strength for a final attack. Water coalesced around her, forming ice spears that hovered in the air. With a gesture, she sent them hurtling toward the creature’s face and torso.

They struck with devastating force, penetrating deep—but still, the monster advanced. One of the remaining warriors attempted to flee, only to have roots erupt from the ground, impaling her through the chest and lifting her thrashing body skyward.

The last warrior—a young woman named Faelan—grabbed Sorrel’s arm. "Run, Your Highness! I’ll hold it back!"

Before Sorrel could protest, Faelan shoved her toward the trees and turned to face the approaching horror. Air swirled around her hands, condensing into blades of pure pressure that she launched at the creature’s legs, temporarily halting its advance.

’I can’t leave them to die,’ Sorrel thought, even as her survival instincts urged her to flee. But one glance at the carnage surrounding her made the bitter truth clear: there was nothing she could do against such power.

With a final anguished look at Lynnae and Faelan, Sorrel turned and ran, her feet flying over the forest floor. Behind her, she heard Faelan’s final scream—a sound that would haunt her dreams for years to come.

The forest blurred around her as she pushed her body to its limits. Branches whipped at her face, leaving stinging welts, but she didn’t slow. Her lungs burned, muscles screaming in protest as she leapt over fallen logs and crashed through underbrush.

’I have to reach the kingdom,’ she thought desperately. ’Have to warn Mother about what lurks in these woods.’

A sound behind her—the cracking of massive limbs through the trees—told her the creature was in pursuit. Impossibly fast for its size, gaining with each passing second.

Sorrel summoned water from the air around her, creating a flowing stream beneath her feet that carried her downhill at dangerous speed. Her control wavered, the water thinning as her exhaustion mounted.

The ground leveled, and her momentum carried her into a small glade bathed in moonlight. She stumbled, going down hard on one knee, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

’Get up!’ her mind screamed. ’Get up or die here!’

But her body refused to respond, muscles locked in exhaustion. She turned, daggers raised in a final, futile gesture of defiance, as the tree line erupted.

The creature that emerged was even more horrifying in the full moonlight—a towering amalgamation of plant and ancient magic. Its body rose fifteen feet high, bark-like skin covered in pulsating moss and fungi. Where a face should be, dozens of eyes blinked independently, fixed on her with hungry malevolence. Its limbs ended not in hands but in writhing masses of roots and vines that reached toward her with obvious intent.

"What do you want?" Sorrel gasped, backing away even as her legs threatened to buckle beneath her.

The creature tilted its misshapen head, eyes blinking in unsettling sequence. When it spoke, the sound emerged not from any visible mouth but seemed to emanate from the very earth beneath her feet—a deep, resonant rumble like ancient trees grinding together in a storm.

"You trespass. You seek. You disturb what must remain hidden."

The words bypassed her ears, reverberating directly in her mind. Sorrel felt blood trickle from her nose, the psychic intrusion too powerful for her elf consciousness to withstand without damage.

"We meant no harm," she managed, buying time as she gathered what little remained of her strength. "We seek only my sister."

"The one who knows," the creature rumbled, advancing slowly. "The one who sees. You will not find her. She is beyond your reach now."

Sorrel’s back hit a tree, her retreat cut short. The creature loomed over her, blotting out the moon with its massive form.

’So this is how it ends,’ she thought with surprising clarity. ’Not in battle against worthy foes, but alone in the dark, far from home.’

The monster’s limbs descended, wrapping around her arms and legs with inexorable strength. It lifted her from the ground, bringing her face level with its cluster of eyes. Roots burrowed through her armor, piercing skin and muscle beneath. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Sorrel screamed, the pain unlike anything she’d experienced before. It wasn’t just physical—the creature was somehow inside her mind, rifling through her memories like fingers through dried leaves.

"The mother-queen sends you to prevent what cannot be stopped," it said, the mental voice growing louder until it threatened to split her skull. "The water-daughter will learn. The prophecy will unfold. And all will change."

The roots tightened, digging deeper. Blood flowed freely down Sorrel’s armor as her vision began to darken at the edges. With her last conscious thought, she reached for the water in her own blood, pulling it forth in a desperate final attack.

Crimson droplets rose around her, forming into sharp liquid needles that she launched at the creature’s many eyes. Several found their mark, eliciting a roar of pain and rage.

The grip on her body loosened fractionally—just enough for Sorrel to slide one hand to the hidden pocket in her armor. Her fingers closed around a small crystal sphere—an emergency measure she’d hoped never to use.

’Forgive me, Mother,’ she thought as she crushed the sphere in her palm.

Blinding white light erupted, accompanied by a deafening crack as space itself tore open around her. The creature recoiled, releasing her as the teleportation crystal’s magic activated.

Reality stretched and compressed around Sorrel’s battered form. Her last sight before the portal claimed her was the monster’s face—dozens of eyes widening in surprise and something that might have been respect.

Then darkness took her, carrying her away from the forest and the slaughter of her warriors—but not from the knowledge that had been planted in her mind:

The prophecy was already in motion, and nothing—not even the Queen of Moonlight Kingdom—could stop what was coming.