Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 13 In the distant past, long before the descent of the Frea Divine Clan, elves were one of the many races that had enslaved and exploited humanity.
Among them, the Dark Elves—distinguished by their dusky purple skin and silver hair—specialized in necromancy. They were masters of manipulating spirits harvested from the corpses of deceased mages or magical beasts.
Sure enough, a sickly green radiance flared from the hands of the two Dark Elves.
[■□■□■□-]
An eerie growl echoed through the silent woods as half a dozen spirits manifested, encircling the red horse and its master. A wolf, a lynx, a buffalo…
The red horse let out a defiant roar, violently stomping the earth to ward off its enemies, but it was clearly outmatched.
Hidden behind a tree, Turan fell into deep thought.
Should I help?
According to Keorn's teachings, he should naturally side with the human, but it bothered him that he didn't know how the conflict had started. If the fallen man had attacked the Dark Elves first, intervening might actually be the wrong thing to do.
Books described Dark Elves and other races as monsters who enjoyed enslaving and devouring humans, but he wanted to confirm they were truly evil before—
"Whose hand is this? Give me a bite."
"Eat your own. You should have grabbed one for yourself."
The male Dark Elf was crunching on a finger that was unmistakably human.
The moment he saw that, the rumors of Dark Elf cannibalism were confirmed as fact, not prejudice.
Turan shifted his Stealth from simple concealment to total invisibility. He crept within twenty paces, loaded an almond-shaped stone into his sling, and whispered a familiar incantation.
"Harden. Accelerate. Pierce. Target: the head."
His proficiency in magic had reached a point where chanting no longer provided a massive boost, but it was still better than nothing.
As the stone whistled from the spinning sling, Turan exerted his power to part the very air blocking its path, further driving the stone's velocity.
"The ones I killed were all men, so they were too hairy—"
The female Dark Elf was still joking when a sharp crack rang out. Her companion's head simply vanished.
It was as if an invisible hand had swept away everything above the neck in an instant.
Half of the spirits targeting the red horse—those bound to the male Dark Elf—collapsed instantly.
"Huh? Kel?"
The female Dark Elf looked dazed for a moment, unable to process the sight, but she reacted by summoning the remaining spirits back to her side much faster than Turan had anticipated. Thanks to her quick reflexes, the second stone aimed at her was deflected by a mountain goat spirit acting as a shield.
"Tch."
"Who's there?! Show yourself!"
The Dark Elf let out a scream-like roar and immediately sent the buffalo spirit charging toward the source of the stone, tearing up the forest floor. Naturally, Turan had already vacated the spot.
Realizing her opponent was using Stealth, she summoned another spirit.
"Let's see if you can keep hiding after this!"
The spirit that appeared this time was a small fox, no larger than its living counterparts. As soon as it manifested, it began to radiate a brilliant light. In an instant, the dim forest canopy was illuminated more brightly than a field at high noon.
"Tsk."
Just as it is difficult to light a fire underwater, the efficiency of Stealth drops drastically in high-light environments. He was forced into a corner: either maintain Stealth at the cost of massive mana consumption or deactivate it.
Running was an option, but that would leave the red horse and its master at the necromancer's mercy.
As Turan clicked his tongue and deactivated his Stealth, the Dark Elf snarled at him.
"You! You devil! How dare you kill Kel!"
Without giving him a chance to respond, she ordered the wolf and buffalo spirits to attack.
In response, Turan rubbed his palms together vigorously, as if striking a flint to catch a spark. Friction creates heat, and heat causes ignition. By perceiving that fundamental principle and inducing it, the flames that erupted from his palms were far more intense than ever before.
The sphere of fire spun violently in the air, gathering centrifugal force before striking the charging wolf's head with pinpoint accuracy.
[■■■■-!]
The wolf spirit let out a final shriek and collapsed, struck by a fireball moving at a speed it could barely perceive.
The problem was the massive buffalo charging from the other side.
The distance was too short to attempt another fire throw, and he wasn't confident he could take down such a massive beast in one hit. Turan threw himself into a roll, narrowly escaping the path of the charge. It was an ungraceful move, but it saved his life.
"You...!"
Enraged by his survival, the female Dark Elf gestured again, summoning a deer spirit to lunge at Turan. It seemed her limit was controlling four spirits at once.
I'm glad I took one out beforehand.
If he had to face eight or more at once, his only option would have been to retreat.
As he dodged the buffalo's renewed charge and used a second fireball to scorch the deer, a searing pain suddenly shot through his leg.
"Ugh!?"
Looking down, he saw the fox that had been emitting light moments ago. It had extinguished its glow and suppressed its presence to sink its teeth into his leg. He had assumed it was merely a light source to counter his Stealth; he hadn't expected it to be capable of a physical ambush.
He managed to kick the fox's neck with his free foot to dislodge it, but he couldn't dodge the buffalo's follow-up charge in that opening.
Turan was struck head-on. He was sent flying dozens of meters through the air before slamming into a nearby tree.
"Cough..."
The impact was violent enough to make him lose consciousness for a split second. He couldn't breathe; it felt as if his internal organs had been shoved into his throat. Turan lay sprawled on the ground, unable to even scream, letting out only ragged, wet gasps.
Seeing this, the Dark Elf laughed triumphantly.
"Serves you right! How dare you kill my Kel? I'll make you beg for—Gah!"
[Neigh!]
The one who ambushed the triumphant Dark Elf was none other than the red horse. The beast, which had been quietly observing the struggle, finally recognized Turan as an ally and joined the fray.
The Dark Elf didn't die instantly thanks to the mountain goat spirit she wore as armor, but she was pinned down and mercilessly trampled by the horse's hooves, her body becoming a broken mess in an instant.
"Gah, ugh! Help, quickly!"
Following their master's desperate command, the buffalo, the fox, and even the mountain goat spirit protecting her pounced on the red horse. A three-on-one brawl erupted.
The Dark Elf woman, having narrowly escaped the hooves, panted as she tried to straighten her disheveled clothes.
"How dare... such humiliation... I'll kill you..."
Her anger was short-lived as she realized that Turan, who had been sent flying by the buffalo, was nowhere to be seen.
Did he run? Or was he using Stealth?
I need to call the mountain goat back... No, then the balance of that fight will break.
In that moment of hesitation, her consciousness was snuffed out by a sharp crack, slightly quieter than the one before.
Like humans, Dark Elves lost the ability to think once the area above their eyebrows was pulverized.
"Phew..."
That final stone, thrown by squeezing out the last of his mana and physical strength, had crushed his opponent's skull. Turan collapsed onto the ground. The earth felt like it was heaving and shaking beneath him, and he couldn't even contemplate standing up.
I'm actually going to die.
Had he ever exhausted his mind and body this much in his life?
As he stared up at the yellowing sky, a red shadow suddenly loomed over him.
[Neigh.]
The red horse approached Turan and rubbed its muzzle against his chest. He wasn't sure, but it felt like the horse was encouraging him, telling him he had done a good job.
Turan let out a small, tired laugh and stroked the horse's nose. He rested for nearly an hour to recover some strength before standing up. No matter how exhausted he was, he had to collect his spoils of war.
The three spirits the male Dark Elf had controlled, and the five from the female.
*
"Ugh..."
In the darkening forest, Asiz Berk groaned in pain as he opened his eyes. His memories were a tangled mess, likely due to the concussion.
The sudden Dark Elf ambush, the desperate fight, the flight, his retainers sacrificing themselves one by one...
"Damik!"
Calling out the name of the butler who had served him until the very end, Asiz hurriedly sat up.
The first thing he saw was a campfire burning atop neatly stacked logs. Sitting across from it was a figure wrapped in a reddish-brown cloak. It was a handsome man with gray hair tied back in a ponytail, appearing to be two or three years younger than Asiz.
"You're awake."
"Who are you?"
"I saw you being attacked by Dark Elves and saved you."
Hearing those words, Asiz looked around and realized this wasn't the part of the forest he remembered. He was confused for a moment, but then a familiar presence enveloped him. Tilly, his beloved horse who had been with him since childhood, carefully leaned her leg against his shoulder.
"Tilly..."
"She's a good horse. She protected her master and even understood that we needed to move for safety."
Seeing that Tilly was safe, Asiz was finally certain that the man had saved him. If he were a suspicious person, his horse would never have allowed him to get this close.
"Thank you for saving my life. I am Asiz, of the House of Berk."
"I'm Turan."
Though Turan didn't reveal a family name, Asiz had no doubt he was a noble. The Dark Elf necromancers chasing him were not opponents an ordinary knight could handle. The terrifying sight of them commanding so many spirits was still fresh in his mind.
"Is there a specific reason you clashed with the Dark Elves?"
"A reason... No, there isn't. I was simply on a pilgrimage with my retainers when we were suddenly ambushed. I had heard that the other races were fierce, but I never imagined it would be to this extent."
As he answered, Asiz's heart grew heavy, and he clenched his teeth. The realization that the six knights and ten servants who had followed him—especially Damik, the butler who had practically raised him—were all dead hit him anew.
He tried to hold it back in front of a stranger, but he couldn't stop his vision from blurring.
While Asiz sobbed, forgetting his noble dignity, Turan considerately closed his eyes and looked toward the campfire. In truth, he was too exhausted to offer much comfort. Every part of his body that had been struck by the buffalo spirit was aching and creaking.
The only consolation was the massive amount of mana he felt within his body. The power he had gained from consuming eight spirits was at least double what he had before the fight.
Considering he hadn't grown much since catching the Monkey King because he had only been catching small fry along the way, this was a stroke of incredible luck—even if he had almost died in the process.
After a while, Asiz seemed to have composed himself. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and apologized.
"Forgive me. The people I lost... they were very dear to me."
"Were they family?"
"They were the knights and servants who accompanied me on my pilgrimage. They had raised me since I was a child."
Hearing that, Turan inwardly gave Asiz a high score. Compared to the nobles of the Baltas family who treated knights like doormats, his attitude was truly noble.
But that was one thing; there was information he needed to gather first.
"By any chance, do you know how many Dark Elves attacked? I killed two."
"That should be all of them."
Even after receiving confirmation, Turan ran his detection magic one more time just in case. Fortunately, there were no Dark Elves within several kilometers, and he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Then, Asiz bowed deeply to Turan.
"Lord Turan, are you in a hurry right now?"
"I am also on a pilgrimage."
Asiz's eyes widened in surprise.
"To be on a pilgrimage with that kind of power... are you perhaps the scion of a Great House? But why are you alone?"
"I'm afraid I can't say."
It seemed Asiz was greatly overestimating Turan's strength. In reality, he had ambushed one and struggled against the other, only winning with the help of the red horse, but Asiz seemed to think he had overwhelmed both single-handedly.
To clear up this misunderstanding, Turan let his presence flow toward the other man.
Asiz flinched and released his own presence in response. His power was actually stronger than Turan's had been before the fight with the necromancers—about two-thirds of his current self.
...He's surprisingly strong?
Turan wondered if Asiz could have fought back if he had teamed up with the red horse, but then he remembered that mana doesn't decide everything in a fight. Especially since Asiz clearly didn't have a personality suited for combat.
While Turan was taking his measure, Asiz was also inwardly shocked as he guessed his savior's identity. Turan's mana was certainly powerful, but it was by no means at a level that could easily face two necromancers.
This meant he possessed exceptional magic skills, combat senses, or a powerful bloodline. Furthermore, since he was still on his pilgrimage, it meant he hadn't reached his growth limit yet. He was a talent that any Great House would welcome.
He didn't know why such a person was wandering these lands without a single servant, but...
"If you don't have a set destination, would you allow me to invite you to the Berk family estate? I wish to repay you for saving my life and for escorting me safely back to my house."
"Repay me, you say?"
Turan didn't know of any 'Berk family.' Judging by the fact that they raised such magical beasts and even brought them on journeys, they seemed wealthy enough, but...
"The Berk family serves as vassals to the Great House Arabion in the north. We are a lineage of Enchanters who have crafted magic devices for generations."
Asiz declared proudly that they could more than afford to repay the debt of a life owed to Turan.
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