Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 81

Chapter 81: ’No One Spared’

The dense canopy of the Dead Forest loomed overhead, suffocating what little moonlight tried to pierce through.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, and every step the knights took was muffled by layers of fallen leaves. Their horses had been left behind—the risk of triggering hidden traps was too great.

Lancelot took the lead, his senses sharpened by instinct and years of training. Behind him, six knights followed, their movements slow and deliberate. Among them were Arcaniors, their robes slightly fluttering as they moved with caution.

They were visibly tense, their hands glowing faintly with mana as they probed the surroundings for magical traps and hidden mana stones. Every now and then, one would pause, murmur a few words, and adjust the group’s path, ensuring they remained undetected by the tracking map the rogues were supposedly using.

"We’re going in blind," said Gareth, one of the knights, his voice hushed but carrying enough frustration to be heard. "Do we even know where we’re heading?"

"Keep your eyes open," Lancelot answered curtly. His own frustration mirrored Gareth’s, but he refused to let it show. They didn’t have the luxury of knowing their destination, only the certainty that they had to keep moving. Any clue—disturbed ground, discarded supplies, even a broken branch—could hint at the direction Florian had been taken.

A rustle in the distance made everyone freeze. The Arcaniors¹’ fingers twitched, their mana intensifying for a split second before they exchanged glances and nodded. "No immediate threat," whispered Arlen, one of the Arcaniors, though his voice was still uneasy.

Lancelot exhaled, motioning for the group to continue. His mind, however, was restless.

Lucius’ words from earlier echoed in his head.

’If they took Florian, they could be taking advantage of him. Or worse.’

Lancelot clenched his jaw, pushing the thought away. Florian was a fool for what he did, acting recklessly, throwing himself into danger with a smile that had irritated Lancelot more than once. It was his fault for volunteering himself. It was his fault for being taken.

But then, the memory struck him—Florian’s face when he had stepped forward. There had been no hesitation in his eyes, only unwavering determination.

And when they had seized him, there was a flicker of something else—something Lancelot had failed to register at the time. Was it regret? Or had Florian simply accepted his fate, knowing there was no other way?

"Tracks," muttered Elias, another knight, as he crouched on the forest floor. "Several people passed through here recently."

Gideon, kneeling beside him, examined the ground. "Heavy footprints. Someone was being carried."

Lancelot’s heart pounded. "Prince Florian."

Arlen extended his hands over the ground, his mana forming faint glowing tendrils that slithered through the dirt and roots. He closed his eyes, sensing. Moments later, he sucked in a breath. "I feel traces of enchantments ahead—concealment magic. They didn’t want to be followed."

Lancelot narrowed his eyes. "Then we’re on the right track."

Another Arcaniors, Rhys, shifted nervously. "They know how to use magic well. If we make a mistake, they’ll know we’re coming."

Lancelot tightened his grip on his sword. "Then we won’t make a mistake."

A tense silence settled over them as they pressed forward. The Arcaniors continued scanning, one pausing every few steps to whisper incantations under his breath.

The knights, meanwhile, took care to test the ground ahead of them, using the pommels of their swords to prod for hidden traps. One nearly stepped into a snare, but Dorian, the most experienced knight among them, yanked him back just in time.

"Careful," Lancelot murmured. "They’re not just using magic. There are physical traps everywhere."