Chapter 13

Elves were one of the other races that had enslaved humanity in ancient times, before the descent of the Freyans. Among them, Dark Elves, distinguished by their dark-purple skin and silver hair, specialized in wraith sorcery—the art of controlling the wraiths that arose from the bodies of dead wizards and monsters.

As expected, pale-green light rose from the two Dark Elves’ hands.

[■□■□■□—]

With eerie growls that echoed through the silent forest, five or six wraiths appeared and surrounded the red horse and its master. A wolf, a wildcat, a water buffalo...

The red horse roared fiercely and stamped the ground to intimidate its enemies, but it was plainly at a disadvantage.

Hidden beside a tree, Turan hesitated.

‘Should I help?’

By Keorn’s teachings, he ought to help the human, of course, but not knowing how this fight had started gave him pause. If the fallen man had attacked the Dark Elves first, helping him might actually be wrong.

Books described Dark Elves and all the other races as monsters that enslaved humans and delighted in eating them, but he should at least confirm that these two were clearly evil before—

“Whose hand is that? Give me one too.”

“Eat your own. You must have brought some.”

The male Dark Elf was crunching on fingers that were unmistakably human. That sight confirmed that the accounts of Dark Elves enjoying human flesh were fact, not prejudice.

Turan switched from merely hiding his appearance to complete concealment, then advanced some twenty paces. He loaded a stone carved into an almond shape and recited a familiar incantation.

“Harden, hasten, pierce—the head is your target.”

Now that he had grown more proficient at magic, reciting incantations like this was no great help, but it was still a little better than not doing so.

The instant the stone left his whirling sling, Turan exerted his power to part the “air” in its path, making it fly even faster.

“The ones I killed were all men, so they were too hair—”

As the female Dark Elf spoke in a joking tone, her companion’s head vanished with a sharp crack, as though an invisible hand had swept away everything above his neck in an instant.

Half the wraiths threatening the red horse—the ones controlled by the male—collapsed on the spot.

“Huh? Kel?”

For a moment, the female Dark Elf looked blank, apparently unable to comprehend what had happened. Then she recalled her wraiths to her side far faster than Turan had anticipated.

As a result, the second stone, aimed at her, bounced off the mountain-goat wraith enveloping her body.

“Tch.”

“Who the hell are you? Come out!”

With a shout bordering on a scream, she immediately sent her water-buffalo wraith to tear up the ground where the stone had come from. Naturally, Turan had already moved away.

Only then did she seem to realize her opponent was concealed, and she summoned another wraith.

“Let’s see you hide from this!”

This time, a small fox appeared, no larger than an ordinary member of its species. The moment it materialized, it began radiating brilliant light in every direction. In an instant, the forest, dim beneath its canopy of leaves, became brighter than an open field at midday.

“Tsk.”

Just as kindling a fire underwater was difficult, stealth became drastically less efficient in bright surroundings. He would either have to endure an enormous drain on his mana to maintain it or dispel it.

Fleeing was another option, but that would put the red horse and its master in danger again.

Turan clicked his tongue and dropped his concealment. The Dark Elf snarled at him.

“You! Demon! How dare you kill Kel!”

Without giving him time to reply, she ordered the wolf and water-buffalo wraiths to attack.

Turan rubbed his hands together hard, once, as though striking flint, and conjured a flame. Friction produced heat, and heat in turn caused ignition. Merely understanding that principle vaguely and putting it into practice made the flame above his hand far more intense than before.

The sphere of fire spun rapidly through the air, gaining centrifugal force, then struck the head of the wolf charging ahead.

[■■■■—!]

Hit by a fireball moving almost too fast to perceive, the wolf wraith screamed and toppled over.

The problem was the enormous water buffalo charging from the other side. It was far too close for another fireball, and he could not be sure of killing something that size in one blow anyway. Turan immediately rolled clear of its path.

It was hardly dignified, but he managed to dodge.

“You little...!”

Apparently displeased by the sight, the female Dark Elf gestured again, summoning a deer wraith and sending it charging at Turan.

Four seemed to be the limit of what she could control at once.

‘Good thing I took one of them out first.’

Had he faced eight or more at once, fleeing would have been his only option.

Dodging another charge from the water buffalo, he conjured a second fireball and seared the deer. Suddenly, a burning pain shot through his leg.

“Gah!?”

Looking down, he saw that the fox, which had been radiating light only moments before, had gone dark and silently crept up to sink its teeth into his leg. He had assumed it had been summoned solely to provide light and prevent concealment. He had never imagined it could attack as well.

He hastily kicked its neck with his other foot and managed to dislodge it, but dodging the water buffalo as it charged into that opening was impossible.

It slammed into him, sending him flying dozens of meters through the air to crash into a nearby tree.

“Guh...”

The impact briefly knocked him unconscious. He could not breathe, as though his organs had been shoved upward. Unable even to scream, Turan lay sprawled on the ground, choking and gasping.

The Dark Elf smiled in satisfaction.

“Serves you right! How dare you kill my Kel! I’ll make you beg for dea—Aah!”

[NE-E-EIGH!]

The one who ambushed the Dark Elf as she gloated over her successful blow was none other than the red horse. Having quietly watched their battle, it had finally recognized Turan as an ally and joined the fight.

The mountain-goat wraith shrouding her body kept the first blow from killing her, but pinned beneath the horse and mercilessly trampled by its hooves, the Dark Elf was soon a complete wreck.

“Gack, ugh, help, hurry!”

At their master’s command, the water buffalo and fox that had been about to finish Turan off, along with the mountain goat enveloping her, lunged at the red horse. A three-on-one melee began.

Barely escaping, the Dark Elf woman huffed furiously as she straightened her disheveled clothes.

“How dare you humiliate me like this? I’ll kill you...”

Her fury was short-lived. She realized that Turan, who had been sent flying by the water buffalo moments earlier, was nowhere to be seen.

Had he fled? Or was he concealed?

‘I need to recall the mountain goat quickly... No, that would upset the balance of the fight over there!’

In the moment her judgment faltered, caught between two impossible choices, a slightly quieter crack than before sounded, and her consciousness went out.

Dark Elves were just like humans: once everything above their eyebrows vanished, they could no longer think.

“Whew...”

He had wrung every last bit of mana and physical strength out of himself for that final sling shot. Confirming that it had shattered his opponent’s head, Turan lay flat on his back.

The ground seemed to heave and sway beneath him. He could not even contemplate getting up.

‘I’m dying here. Seriously.’

Had he ever pushed his body and mind this hard in his life?

As he stared up at a sky that had turned yellow in his vision, a red shadow suddenly swept over it.

[NEIGH.]

The red horse had come over and was rubbing its muzzle against his chest. He could not be sure, but it felt as though it were encouraging him, telling him he had done well.

Turan chuckled and stroked the bridge of its nose. After resting for several dozen minutes and recovering some strength, he rose.

However close to death he felt, he had won the fight, and he had to collect his spoils: the three wraiths the male Dark Elf had controlled, and the five the female had commanded.

* * *

“Ugh...”

In the darkening forest, Asiz Berg opened his eyes with a groan, his head throbbing. Perhaps because the blow to his head had knocked him unconscious, his memories were a confused tangle.

The sudden Dark Elf attack, the fight, the flight, his retainers sacrificing themselves for him one by one...

“Damik!”

Calling 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 over a neatly arranged stack of wood. Across from him sat someone wearing a reddish-brown cloak: a handsome man with gray hair tied in a ponytail who, judged by commoners’ appearances, looked two or three years younger than himself.

“You’re awake.”

“Who are you?”

“I saw you being attacked by Dark Elves and rescued you.”

At those words, Asiz looked around and realized this was not the forest he last remembered. His bewilderment over what had happened lasted only a moment before a familiar presence enveloped him.

His beloved horse, tilly, who had been with him since childhood, carefully rested a leg against his shoulder.

“tilly...”

“That’s a fine horse. Protects its master, and even understands when we need to move somewhere safer.”

Only after confirming that tilly was safe did Asiz feel certain the stranger had saved him. His beloved horse would never have let anyone suspicious come this close.

“Thank you for saving my life. I am Asiz of House Berg.”

“I’m Turan.”

Although the man did not name his house, Asiz had no doubt that he was a noble. The Dark Elf wraith sorcerers who had pursued him were not foes a mere knight could face.

That terrifying sight of them commanding so many wraiths...

“Was there any particular reason you clashed with the Dark Elves?”

“A reason... No, none. I was simply on a pilgrimage with my retainers when they suddenly ambushed us without provocation. I’d heard the other races were savage, but I never imagined it was this bad.”

As he answered, Asiz clenched his teeth, his chest tightening as the truth sank in anew. The six knights and ten servants who had accompanied him—even Damik, the butler who had all but raised him—were dead.

He tried to hold himself together in front of a stranger, but he could not stop his vision from blurring.

As Asiz sobbed, forgetting even his dignity as a noble, Turan considerately turned toward the campfire and closed his eyes.

In truth, his body was crying out with too much fatigue for him to offer comfort. After being rammed by the water-buffalo wraith, he ached and creaked all over.

The one consolation was the enormous quantity of mana he could feel inside him. By devouring no fewer than eight wraiths, he had gained enough power to bring him to at least twice his strength before the fight...

Considering how little he had grown since killing the monkey monster, catching only minor creatures along the road, this was truly a stroke of luck.

Even if he really had nearly died in the process.

A little later, having apparently regained some control over his emotions, Asiz rubbed his reddened eyes and apologized.

“Forgive me. The people I lost were so dear to me...”

“Were they family?”

“They were knights and servants who accompanied me on my pilgrimage. They practically raised me from childhood.”

Hearing that, Turan’s opinion of Asiz rose. How much nobler his attitude was than that of House Valtas’s nobles, who treated mere knights as doormats.

But that was one thing; there was information he needed to gather first.

“How many Dark Elves attacked you? I killed two.”

“That should be all of them.”

Even with that reassurance, Turan cast Search over their surroundings once more, just in case. Fortunately, there were no Dark Elves within several kilometers in any direction, so he could relax for now.

Then Asiz bowed his head deeply to him and spoke.

“Lord Turan, do you have any urgent business at present?”

“I’m on a pilgrimage myself.”

Asiz’s eyes widened in apparent surprise.

“Still on a pilgrimage, with power like yours... Are you a scion of a great house? But why are you alone?”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss that.”

Asiz seemed to have a vastly inflated impression of Turan’s strength. In reality, he had killed one opponent by surprise, struggled against the other, and won only with the red horse’s help. Asiz apparently thought he had overpowered both on his own.

To dispel the misunderstanding, Turan let his aura flow toward him. Asiz flinched, then responded with his own. His power was greater than Turan’s had been before fighting the wraith sorcerers—about two-thirds of his current strength.

‘... He’s surprisingly strong.’

Turan wondered whether that would not have been enough to put up a fight alongside the red horse, then remembered that mana did not decide everything in battle.

All the more so when Asiz looked so obviously timid, his temperament apparently ill-suited to combat.

While Turan made his assessment, Asiz was inwardly astonished as he considered the stranger’s identity. His mana was fairly powerful, but certainly not enough to face those two wraith sorcerers.

That meant he possessed exceptional magical skill and combat instincts, or had inherited a powerful bloodline.

Moreover, the fact that he was still on a pilgrimage meant he had yet to reach his growth limit. A talent like this would be welcome in any great house.

Though Asiz could not fathom why such a man was wandering here without a single attendant...

“If you have no fixed destination, might I invite you to House Berg, Lord Turan? We will compensate you for saving my life, and for accompanying me safely home.”

“What sort of compensation?”

Turan knew of no house called Berg. Judging by the fact that they raised a monster like that—and even brought it along on journeys—they seemed fairly wealthy, but...

“House Berg is a vassal of the great House Arabion to the north. Ours is an Enchanter bloodline, and we have crafted magic tools for generations.”

In other words, Asiz declared confidently, they could amply repay the life debt he owed Turan.