Translator: Pai_

Elves were one of the non-human races that enslaved humanity and used them as servants in ancient times, long before the descent of the Preah God Tribe.

Among them, the Dark Elves, characterized by their dark purple skin and silver hair, specialized in necromancy, which involved handling undead spirits created from the bodies of deceased wizards or magical beasts.

As expected, a greenish glow rose from the hands of the two Dark Elves.

[■□■□■□-]

With a bizarre growl that echoed through the silent forest, five or six undead spirits appeared and surrounded the red horse and its rider.

Wolves, wildcats, water buffalo...

The red horse roared fiercely, stomping the ground to intimidate its enemies, but it was evident to anyone that it was at a disadvantage.

Turan, hiding behind a tree, fell into contemplation.

‘Should I help?’

Considering Keorn’s teachings, it was natural to assist the human side, but Turan hesitated because he did not know how this fight had started.

If the fallen man had attacked the Dark Elves first, helping him might actually be the wrong thing to do.

In books, other races, including Dark Elves, were described as monsters who delighted in enslaving and devouring humans. Still, Turan wanted to confirm whether they were truly evil before deciding-

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

“Eat your own. I’m sure you brought some for yourself.”

The Dark Elf male was unmistakably chewing on a human finger.

The moment Turan saw that, he confirmed that the information about Dark Elves enjoying cannibalism was not prejudice but fact.

Switching his concealment spell from partial disguise to full invisibility, Turan quietly approached within twenty steps, preparing a carefully carved almond-shaped stone in his slingshot. He then chanted a familiar incantation.

“Harden, speed up, pierce - target the head.”

By now, Turan’s mastery of magic had improved to the point where chanting like this wasn’t of much help, but it was still slightly better than not doing it at all.

The moment the stone was released from the spinning slingshot, Turan enhanced its speed by using his magic to slice through the "air" obstructing its path.

“All the ones I’ve killed were men, so they were too hairy—”

The female Dark Elf was speaking jokingly when, with a sharp crack, her male companion’s head vanished, as though an invisible hand had swept it away in an instant.

Half of the undead spirits targeting the red horse, which were under the control of the Dark Elf male, collapsed on the spot.

“Huh? Kel?”

The female Dark Elf looked confused for a moment, failing to comprehend the situation. Then, much faster than Turan had anticipated, she called the undead spirits to surround her.

Thanks to this, the second stone aimed at her was deflected by the goat-like undead spirit guarding her.

“Tch.”

"Which bastard is it! Come out!"

The Dark Elf screamed, almost shrieking, and immediately sent the water buffalo undead to the area the stone had come from, overturning the ground violently. But naturally, Turan had already moved from that spot.

Realizing that her opponent was concealed, she summoned another undead spirit.

“Let’s see if you can keep hiding now!”

This time, the summoned undead spirit was a small fox about the size of its own kind.

The moment it appeared, it began emitting a bright light in all directions, instantly illuminating the dim forest, previously shadowed by leaves, brighter than a midday field.

“Tch.”

Just as it’s difficult to ignite a fire underwater, concealment spells become far less effective in well-lit environments.

Turan was left with three choices: endure the massive consumption of magic power to maintain his concealment, dispel the spell, or flee. But if he fled, the red horse and its rider would once again face danger.

Clicking his tongue, Turan dispelled his concealment. The Dark Elf glared at him, growling.

“You! Devil! How dare you kill Kel!”

Before Turan could even reply, she immediately ordered the wolf and water buffalo undead to attack him.

In response, Turan briskly rubbed his hands together, generating sparks, just as one would with flint and steel.

Friction created heat, and heat was the cause of ignition.

By vaguely recognizing the principle and simply inducing it, the flame that appeared on Turan's hand was much stronger than before.

The fiery sphere spun rapidly in the air, gaining centrifugal force, and struck the head of the oncoming wolf precisely.

[■■■■-!]

The wolf undead let out a scream as it collapsed, struck by the fireball that came at an almost imperceptible speed.

The problem was the massive water buffalo charging from the opposite direction.

The distance was too short to attempt another fireball, and Turan wasn’t confident he could take down such a massive beast in one strike. So he quickly rolled his body out of its charging path.

It wasn’t the most graceful move, but he managed to evade the attack.

“This bastard...!”

Apparently displeased by the sight, the female Dark Elf gestured again, summoning a deer undead and directing it to charge at Turan.

It seemed she could control up to four undead at once.

‘Good thing I took care of one of them already.’

If he had to face more than eight at the same time, escaping would have been his only option.

As Turan dodged another attack from the charging water buffalo, he conjured a second fireball and scorched the deer. But suddenly, a sharp pain flared in his leg.

“Ugh!?”

Looking down, the fox that had been emitting bright light earlier had turned off its light and was now silently biting and tearing at his leg.

He had assumed the fox was merely for illuminating the area to disrupt concealment, but he hadn’t expected it to attack as well.

In a hurry, Turan managed to kick the fox in the neck with his other leg, dislodging it. However, the momentary distraction made it impossible to avoid the water buffalo’s charge.

With a heavy impact, Turan was hurled dozens of meters through the air before slamming into a nearby tree.

“Gah…”

The shock was so severe that his consciousness briefly faded.

It felt as though his internal organs were being pushed up, making it impossible to breathe. Turan could only gasp for air, unable to scream, sprawled helplessly on the ground.

The female Dark Elf smirked in satisfaction at the sight.

“That’s what you get! Killing my Kel, I'll make you beg for death- Kyaak!"

[Neighhhh!]

The one who attacked the smugly triumphant Dark Elf was none other than the red horse.

Having quietly observed the fight until now, the horse seemed to recognize Turan as an ally and decided to intervene.

Thanks to the goat undead protecting her body, she wasn’t killed in a single blow, but the Dark Elf was quickly pinned underneath and mercilessly trampled by the horse’s hooves, turning her appearance into a mess.

"Kehek, ugh, help, quickly!"

Following their master’s orders, the water buffalo, the fox, and the goat undead that had been guarding her body all turned their attention to the red horse, starting a chaotic three-against-one battle.

Meanwhile, the female Dark Elf barely escaped from under the horse, gasping for breath as she tried to compose her disheveled appearance.

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

She seethed with rage for a moment but soon realized that Turan, who had been struck by the water buffalo and sent flying, was no longer in sight.

Had he fled? Or was he using concealment again?

‘I need to recall the goat... No, if I do, the balance of that fight will tip...’

Her indecision in the face of this dilemma clouded her judgment, and in that moment of hesitation, there was another sharp cracking sound, albeit slightly quieter than before, and her consciousness faded.

Like humans, Dark Elves were incapable of thought once the area above their eyebrows ceased to exist.

“Huaaah…”

Turan let out a heavy sigh as he lay on the ground.

He had expended every ounce of his magic and physical strength for that final slingshot strike, but it had succeeded in shattering the Dark Elf’s head.

With the enemy defeated, Turan collapsed on the spot.

The ground seemed to rumble and sway beneath him, shaking his body, making the mere thought of standing up feel impossible.

'I'm really going to die.'

Had there ever been a time in his life when he had pushed his body and mind this far?

As he looked up at the sky, now glowing a bright yellow, a red shadow suddenly loomed over him.

[Neigh.]

The red horse approached Turan, pressing its snout against his chest.

Turan wasn’t entirely sure, but it felt like the horse was encouraging him, as if to say, “Well done.”

He let out a faint laugh and stroked the horse’s nose. After resting for about twenty minutes to regain some strength, Turan finally stood up.

No matter how close to death he felt, now that he had won the fight, he couldn’t leave without claiming the spoils of victory.

The undead spirits, three controlled by the male Dark Elf, and five by the female, were now his to take.

* * *

“Ugh…”

In the dim forest, Ashiz Berg groaned as he opened his eyes, clutching his throbbing head.

His memories were jumbled and chaotic, likely because of the blow that had knocked him unconscious.

The sudden ambush by Dark Elves, the fight, the escape, and one by one, his vassals sacrificing themselves for him…

“Damik!”

Ashiz hurriedly sat up, shouting the name of the butler who had served him until the very end.

The first thing that caught his eye was a campfire crackling atop neatly arranged firewood.

Across from him sat a man in a reddish-brown cloak.

He was a handsome man with gray hair tied back in a ponytail, appearing two or three years younger than Ashiz, judging by commoner standards.

“You’re awake.”

“Who are you?”

“I saved you. You were being attacked by Dark Elves.”

Hearing those words, Ashiz looked around and realized that this was not the same forest he remembered last.

He was momentarily confused, trying to piece together what had happened, but that confusion didn’t last long, an all-too-familiar presence enveloped him.

It was his beloved horse, Tilly, cautiously resting its head against his shoulder.

“Tilly…”

“She’s a fine horse. Smart enough to protect her master and even understand the need to relocate to a safer place.”

Confirming that Tilly was unharmed, Ashiz finally felt sure that this man had indeed saved him.

If the man had been suspicious, his loyal horse wouldn’t have allowed him to get so close.

“Thank you for your kindness. I am Ashiz of the House Berg.”

“Turan”

Though Turan didn’t disclose his family name, Ashiz was convinced that he must be a noble.

The Dark Elf necromancers who had been pursuing him weren’t opponents that mere knights could handle.

The terrifying sight of them controlling numerous undead spirits…

“Do you happen to have any particular reason for your conflict with the Dark Elves?”

“A reason… No, none at all. I was simply traveling on a pilgrimage with my vassals when they suddenly ambushed us without provocation. I’ve heard tales of how savage other races can be, but I didn’t think it would be to this extent.”

As Ashiz answered, the realization of what had happened hit him again, and he clenched his teeth in grief.

Six knights and ten servants who had accompanied him on his journey, all of them had perished. Among them was Damik, the butler who had practically raised him.

He tried to hold back his emotions, knowing he was being watched by a stranger, but he couldn’t stop his vision from blurring with tears.

As Ashiz wept, forgetting even the dignity of his noble status, Turan tactfully averted his gaze, closing his eyes as he stared at the campfire.

In truth, Turan was too exhausted to offer any meaningful consolation.

His body ached all over, still sore and creaking from the water buffalo undead’s charge.

The only silver lining was the overwhelming amount of magic power he now felt coursing through him.

Having absorbed eight undead spirits, his magic power had at least doubled compared to before the fight.

Considering that his growth had stagnated for a while, dealing only with small creatures after capturing the monkey magical beast on the roadside, this was a stroke of incredible fortune.

Even though he’d almost died for it.

After a while, Ashiz seemed to have regained his composure. He wiped his reddened eyes and apologized.

“Forgive me. The people I lost… they were so precious to me.”

“Were they family?”

“They were the knights and servants who came with me on my pilgrimage. They practically raised me since I was a child.”

Hearing this, Turan silently gave Ashiz high marks in his mind.

Compared to the nobles of the House Baltas, who treated knights as mere doormats, how noble of an attitude was this?

But that was beside the point. There was one piece of information Turan needed to gather first.

“Do you happen to know how many Dark Elves attacked you? I killed two.”

“That should be all of them.”

Even after receiving confirmation, Turan cast a detection magic spell across the area one more time, just to be sure.

Fortunately, there were no Dark Elves within a few kilometers, so he could breathe a sigh of relief.

At that moment, Ashiz bowed his head deeply to Turan and spoke.

“Turan-nim, do you happen to have urgent business to attend to right now?”

“I am also on a pilgrimage.”

Hearing Turan’s response, Ashiz’s eyes widened in surprise.

“With strength like yours, you’re on a pilgrimage… Could it be that you’re a scion of a great noble house? But why are you traveling alone?”

“It’s difficult for me to say.”

It seemed Ashiz was grossly overestimating Turan’s strength.

In reality, Turan had ambushed and taken down one Dark Elf before barely managing to defeat the other with the help of the red horse. However, Ashiz appeared to believe that Turan had single-handedly overpowered both of them.

To correct this misunderstanding, Turan deliberately released a subtle wave of his magical aura toward Ashiz.

Ashiz flinched, but he responded with his own aura, meeting Turan’s energy head-on. Ashiz’s strength, as it turned out, was greater than Turan’s had been before the fight with the Dark Elf necromancers.

Compared to Turan’s current power, Ashiz was about two-thirds as strong.

‘...Surprisingly capable.’

Turan had thought that with this level of power, it seemed plausible that Ashiz and his red horse might have been able to put up a decent fight. But then Turan reminded himself that battles weren’t decided by magic power alone.

Especially since Ashiz’s timid demeanor didn’t seem well-suited for combat.

As Turan was sizing him up, Ashiz was also making his own assessment of Turan, and the conclusions left him inwardly astonished.

While Turan’s magic power was formidable, it wasn’t enough to fight toe-to-toe with two Dark Elf necromancers.

This meant Turan must possess either exceptional magical skill, remarkable combat instincts, or a powerful bloodline ability.

Moreover, the fact that Turan was still on his pilgrimage indicated that he hadn’t yet reached his growth limit. Such an individual would be a welcome talent in any great noble house.

Why someone of his caliber was wandering alone without even a single servant was beyond Ashiz’s understanding...

“If you don’t have a specific destination in mind, would you be willing to accept an invitation to House Berg? I would like to repay you for saving my life and also for escorting me safely back to my house.”

“And when you say ‘repay’…?”

Turan couldn’t recall hearing of a House Berg among the noble families he knew.

Judging by the fact that they owned a magical beast like the red horse, and even brought it along for travel, it seemed to be a fairly affluent house, but still...

“House Berg is a vassal of the great northern House Arabion. For generations, we’ve been part of a bloodline of magic artifact craftsmen.”

In other words, Ashiz was proudly declaring that House Berg could more than afford to repay the life debt they owed to Turan.