I Became My Elf King Character In A Game-Like World
Chapter 62: Tongue Slip

Chapter 62: Tongue Slip

Lyanna’s heart pounded as she stood frozen on the bridge, her hand gripping Lyra’s. The unicorns by the crescent lake moved like something out of a dream, their hooves skimming the ground, manes flowing like silk in the breeze.

Gorren slid to a stop beside her, his gruff voice breaking the spell. "My god," he muttered, squinting at the horizon. "There’s gotta be a hundred of ’em—maybe more."

Lyanna’s breath hitched. She’d spent years trading with the elves, but she’d never laid eyes on a unicorn.

The stories didn’t do them justice—pristine white coats gleaming in the sun, horns catching the light like polished ivory.

The sacred lake mirrored their glow, rippling as if it held a piece of the sky. A whole herd of them, at least a hundred, grazed and pranced along the shore.

Lyra yanked at her sleeve, practically bouncing. "Sister, look how pretty they are! Can we get closer? Please?"

"Hold it," Gorren snapped, his hand hovering over his sword. "We don’t know how touchy the elves will get about us staring at their holy critters."

Lyanna barely registered his warning. Her merchant brain kicked in, tallying numbers before she could stop it. One unicorn—horn, hide, mane—could fetch fifty thousand gold coins easy. A million? That’s tens of millions. Push the rarity angle to the right buyers—nobles, alchemists—and it could hit more. The figures danced in her head, her fingers twitching like she was flipping through a ledger.

"In a million... more if we play it smart," she mumbled, too loud.

Gorren whipped around, his face darkening. "Lady Lyanna, shut it," he hissed, stepping close. "You’re in elven territory, surrounded by their archers. You wanna price their sacred beasts like sheep? They’ll string you up."

Her stomach dropped. She glanced at the plaza’s edges—elf huntresses stood like shadows, bows drawn, eyes locked on her. Heat crept up her neck. She’d screwed up. "I didn’t mean—" she started, but the words faltered as a figure approached.

Renjiro strode toward them, silver robes swirling around him like liquid starlight, his advisor Elaria at his side.

The air shifted, the playful sounds of young elves and unicorns fading into a tense quiet. Lyanna braced herself. She knew that look—calm on the surface, but sharp underneath, like a blade waiting to drop.

"Hello, Lady Lyanna," Renjiro said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge. "Caught that little comment. So, tell me—which of your noble buddies back home are itching to snag a unicorn? Or maybe hunt one for sport?"

Lyanna’s mouth went dry. Lyra shrank behind her, and Gorren tensed, his hand flexing near his sword—though he’d never dare pull it here. "Your Majesty," she said, steadying her voice, "I was just... blown away by them. Didn’t mean any harm."

Renjiro tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Blown away, huh? Sounded more like you were putting a price tag on ’em. Merchant habit, I’m guessing?"

Elaria’s green eyes narrowed slightly, waiting. Lyanna’s pulse raced. Lying wasn’t an option—not to him—but the truth could bury her. "Okay, yeah," she admitted, voice low. "I can’t help it. I see something amazing, and my brain starts counting coins. But I’d never try anything. Swear it."

He watched her for a beat, then motioned her to follow. "Come with me," he said, turning toward the lake without looking back. Lyanna shot Gorren a desperate glance, but he just gave a tight nod, staying with Lyra as the archers kept their silent watch.

Up close, the unicorns were unreal. Young elves wove through the herd, giggling as they hopped onto their backs, riding them like it was a game. Tiny fae-like elves buzzed overhead, glowing like fireflies, turning the whole scene into something out of a fairy tale. Lyanna got why the bards called them divine—there was a magic here that felt alive, untouchable.

Renjiro stopped by the water, staring out at the herd. "Couple days back," he said, voice quieter now, "we nabbed some human mercenaries poking around our borders. Had chains—nasty stuff, laced with dark magic. They were after elves, not just unicorns." He turned to her, eyes sharp. "One of ’em talked before we finished him. Said nobles from your city sent them."

Lyanna’s blood turned to ice. She’d heard rumors—greedy lords scheming to cash in on elven treasures—but she’d brushed them off. Now, it was real. "I didn’t know," she said, voice cracking. "I swear, I had no idea."

"Maybe not," he said, shrugging slightly. "But you know your people. Those fancy nobles of yours—I want names. Who’s dumb enough to come after us?"

Her mind spun. Lord Veyrin’s boasts about taming a unicorn. Lady Sereth’s offhand quip about elven servants. Naming them could spark a war—one her guild wouldn’t survive.

"Look, Your Majesty" she said, picking her words carefully, "I won’t lie—plenty of nobles drool over something as sacred unicorns, your magic, even your people. But I need time. Let me talk to my father. He can figure out how to handle this without it blowing up."

Renjiro’s smile was small, almost amused. "Spoken like a true merchant—always playing the angles. Fine, take your time. Just don’t think I’ll let it slide forever."

Before she could answer, a deep, booming cry rolled across the lake. The water surged, waves crashing as a massive shape broke the surface.

The Unicorn Leader rose, wings spreading wide, glowing with a light so pure it hurt to look at. Its horn blazed, sending shimmers dancing over the plaza. The herd froze, heads dipping low, and even the young elves stopped, staring in quiet awe.

Lyanna’s legs wobbled. This wasn’t just a unicorn—it was something holy, something beyond her numbers. Renjiro’s face softened for a split second, a flicker of something real breaking through.

"Time’s up, Lady Lyanna," he said, back to business. "I think it is time for you and your people to head out. City’s a very far away from here after all."

She nodded, throat tight. She waved for Lyra and Gorren, her team falling in as the archers stepped aside. Theron and the others joined, still rattled from their sheep stint but moving fast.

As they trekked back through the forest, Lyanna glanced over her shoulder. The unicorns glowed against the lake, their image burning into her mind.

Her space ring hummed with the elf gear and the promise of thirty thousand sheep still to herd. But now, she carried something heavier—names she couldn’t speak, a threat she couldn’t dodge, and that winged unicorn’s piercing gaze, following her all the way out.

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