The Transmigrated Author-Chapter 280: The Territory Of The Iron Fist (6)

DING!

[New Quest: The People Below]

[Description: The villagers of Lower Eldervale have vital information about the Iron Lord's true identity and power source.]

[Objective: Speak with the village elder in the Lower Quarter]

[Reward: Valuable intelligence, 500 EXP, Reputation with Eldervale]

[Time Limit: 2 hours]

Rel glanced at the notification, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on him.

The quest could provide crucial information about the Iron Lord, but they were already deep within the fortress.

Turning back now would mean losing their chance at a direct confrontation.

"We don't have time for this," Christian whispered, his eyes darting nervously around at the guards surrounding them.

"We're already here. Let's just face this Iron Lord and be done with it."

Anouz nodded in agreement. "Besides, I doubt they'd let us leave now even if we wanted to."

"That's true," Rel decided, dismissing the quest notification with a flick of his finger.

"Whatever information those villagers have, we'll have to make do without it."

The guards led them through a series of winding corridors as the walls were adorned with weapons and shields, trophies of past conquests.

Finally, they arrived at a massive set of double doors, each engraved with intricate scenes of warfare. The lead guard pounded his fist against the metal three times, the sound echoing ominously through the hallway.

The doors swung open with a deep, resonant groan, revealing a cavernous throne room that sent a chill down their spines.

The chamber was dimly lit, illuminated primarily by torches held in sconces shaped like human skulls.

The flames around them danced along the shadows of the stone walls, giving the impression that unseen horrors lurked in every corner.

But it was the throne itself that got their attention—a grotesque monument to death and power.

Constructed entirely of human skulls, it rose from a platform at the far end of the room, each bone polished to a gleaming white.

The armrests were formed from larger skulls, their eye sockets embedded with glowing red gems that seemed to watch every movement in the room.

Upon this macabre seat lounged a figure that could only be the Iron Lord.

The Iron Lord was a massive figure, his body covered in armor that seemed to be made of the same metal as the weapons adorning the walls. Unlike his soldiers, his helmet was removed, revealing a face that was surprisingly young - perhaps no older than thirty.

But his eyes told a different story; they were ancient, cold, and utterly devoid of mercy. Beside him stood two imposing figures, his personal guard.

On his right was a woman with hair as white as bone, her skin so pale it seemed almost translucent. She wore lightweight armor of deep crimson, and at her hip hung a wickedly curved blade.

On his left stood a mountain of a man, towering even over the Iron Lord himself. His armor was thick and pitted with countless battle scars, and his face was hidden behind a full helmet with only narrow slits for eyes.

"So," the Iron Lord's voice was surprisingly raspy, almost pleasant, which made the cruel smile playing on his lips all the more disturbing.

"These are the troublemakers who have my city in an uproar? I expected... more."

General Krath, who had escorted them, bowed deeply. "My Lord, they defeated me with a single blow. They possess strength beyond ordinary men."

The Iron Lord's eyebrows rose slightly, the only indication of his surprise.

"Is that so? How intriguing."

He leaned forward, his gaze intense as he studied each of them in turn.

"And what brings such powerful individuals to my humble domain? Surely not tourism."

Rel stepped forward, his expression calm despite the palpable tension in the room.

"We've come about the people of Lower Eldervale."

The Iron Lord's smile widened, though it never reached his eyes.

"The rabble? What of them?"

"Their conditions are abysmal there's no way you let them live in fear and poverty while you sit here in luxury."

_Pfft…_

A chuckle rippled through the room as the guards exchanged amused glances. The Iron Lord himself threw his head back in genuine laughter.

"Is that what this is about? The comfort of peasants?" He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

"My dear visitor, that is how the world works. The strong rule, the weak serve. It has always been thus."

Anouz tensed beside Rel, his hand unconsciously moving into a clenched fist, but Christian placed a restraining hand on his arm.

"We want to take the people of the lower grounds out of this place," Rel stated plainly.

_WAHAHA!_

The Iron Lord's face contorted with mirth, his laughter echoing across the skull-adorned throne room.

"Oh, that's rich!" he bellowed, slapping his armored thigh.

"You want to take my subjects away? Just like that?"

"Haah… I haven't heard a joke this good in ages."

Rel's expression remained impassive he wasn't only serious about taking them out of the city but he didn't want to resort to threats as a last ditch effort.

"It wasn't a joke,"

"If I wanted to, I could kill you where you stand."

"Kill me where I stand? That's a good one!"

"I haven't heard such bold words in years. Tell me another jest, stranger. You're quite the entertainer!"

But Rel's expression remained stone-cold, his eyes never wavering from the Iron Lord's face.

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"I wasn't joking," he said quietly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the suddenly silent chamber.

"If I wanted to, I could end your life right now, right where you sit on that pathetic throne of stolen lives."

The smile died on the Iron Lord's face, replaced by a dangerous scowl.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as he slowly rose from his throne, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the floor.

"You are not the one to be making threats here, boy."

"This is my domain. My fortress. My rules."

His hand moved to the enormous war hammer strapped to his back.

"And in my domain, such insolence is punishable by death."

Rel's lips curled into a faint smile.

"Your domain? This land belonged to these people long before you arrived. You're nothing but a thief and a bully, hiding behind your guards and your walls."

"ENOUGH!" the Iron Lord roared, his face contorted with rage.

He pointed a gauntleted finger at the three visitors.

"Lysandra! Vargus! Kill these fools! Make them suffer!"

WHOOOOSH!

The two generals moved with shocking speed.

Lysandra drew her curved blade in a flash of silver through the air as she launched toward Rel.

At the same time, Vargus charged forward, his massive fists glowing with an unnatural green energy as he aimed a devastating blow at Rel's chest.

But what happened next left the Iron Lord momentarily speechless.

Just as the attacks were about to connect, Anouz and Christian moved with speed that seemed impossible for human beings.

"…!"

WAM!

Anouz's palm shot out and intercepted Lysandra's blade mid-strike. A burst of crimson aura erupted from his hand, meeting her weapon with a thunderous clash that sent vibrations through the entire chamber.

"Sorry, lady," Anouz smirked, his hands glowing red with aura.

Meanwhile, Christian had caught Vargus's enormous fist in his own hand, blue aura swirling around his arm as he halted the giant's momentum completely.

The floor beneath Christian's feet cracked from the pressure, but he didn't budge an inch.

"I'll be your opponent so don't worry,"