Chapter 142: The Great Battle (Part 1)

  Hundreds of elven archers stood just dozens of meters ahead, their bows fully drawn, arrows glinting between their fingers.

  The five intruders dared not move in the slightest. The elves' magic barrier had completely hidden the elves behind them, even concealing their killing intent. This volley, besides demonstrating the elves' superb archery skills, also revealed their lack of practical combat experience. In reality, just ten or so arrows could have forced the opponent into constant evasion, and while they were dodging mid-air, another volley could have turned anyone into a hedgehog. No one wanted the elves to discover such sniping tactics on their bodies, so they dared not move.

  The man didn't move either. Even the instantaneous battle aura protection lasted only a short time, and eyes couldn't be protected by battle aura. For elven archers, shooting an eye was no harder than shooting an elephant.

  They didn't move, perhaps also because they were stunned. As the magic barrier burned, it also fluctuated. Several trees that had originally looked ordinary and withered came to life. Ten-meter-tall giants waved their withered branch-like arms, stepping forward one by one. Some vines on the ground also twisted like snakes, gradually growing many sharp thorns.

  Behind the elves stood over a dozen tall and majestic unicorns. Magic light flowed on their sharp horns as thick as a human arm. No one doubted their danger and lethality just because these animals were herbivores.

  A huge buzzing sound sounded above the elves' heads. Hornets larger than sparrows flew and circled in the air, making one's scalp tingle. Only the tips of their stingers were exposed. Though much smaller than the arrowheads in the elves' hands, even a sting on a finger could take half a person's life.

  "You called us to deal with these things? Fuck Sylka's mother." Hilton stared blankly at the giants transformed from withered trees, muttering, unable to hold his punch sword steadily. He knew clearly that even if he stabbed this thing a thousand times, it would probably have no effect, while one kick from this giant tree trunk could crush him like a mouse.

  Only now did he truly confirm that with such strange magic combined with the elves' arrows, even an army would absolutely not fare well.

  "Please stop. We are friends." The man raised both hands and shouted again. But this time he changed from surrenderer to friend.

  "Friends? Nonsense. We don't have friends like you." An elf with rather peculiar attire, probably an elder, shouted loudly and raised his hand. "This man carries a heavy dark aura. Kill him first..."

  "I was sent by Sedros!" The man roared with all his might. The elven elder's hand paused midway through its descent.

  Hilton and Jessica had good eyesight and could see the muscles on the elven archers' hands bulge as they had just relaxed their grip but immediately tightened again. Half a blink later, those hundred arrows would have been released.

  "Mr. Sedros? What proof? We haven't heard him mention it." The elven elder hesitated, looking at the man as if undecided, but the cold light in his eyes was clear. "I warn you. These are extraordinary times. We would rather kill the wrong person than delay. You have only one chance to explain your identity."

  The giant hornets hovering overhead lowered their altitude, and more and more hornets flew from all parts of the forest, gathering densely into a cloud-like formation covering the area a dozen meters above the man's head. The amplified buzzing sounded like a thunderstorm brewing in a thundercloud. These were hornets transformed by the elves' nature magic. This cloud of thunder might not have the lethality of a real thundercloud, but those who died beneath it would suffer a hundred times more than being struck by lightning.

  The man thought for a moment, sighed, reached up, and peeled off a mask from his face. He said lightly, "Is Luya still here? She should remember that I was the one who brought her out of Whispering Woods."

  The elves all let out a small gasp in unison. That face was unmistakably that of the man they had tried their utmost to hunt down, and whom, it was said, even the church and all nations on the continent had begun hunting—only for the Elder Council to inexplicably abandon the pursuit.

  Even more astonished were Hilton, Old Bill, and the Druid. The Druid seemed a bit better, but Old Bill's mousy eyes widened more than ever before, making his originally wretched appearance look like that of a tarsier. Hilton's chin hung as if dislocated. A goose-like sound came from his throat, and he dropped his punch sword, his trembling fingers pointing at the newly revealed face. They had at least seen, even intimately encountered in dreams, the owner of this face dozens of times, and had even woken up laughing from dreams of capturing him alive.

  The elven elder didn't seem particularly surprised. He nodded slightly, waved his hand, and the swarm of giant hornets above the man's head immediately dispersed, flying into the forest. He looked at the three terrified people—Hilton and the others—frowned, and asked, "Are these three also Mr. Sedros's people?"

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  "No, they are my people." The man turned back, looked at the three, and smiled. This smile was completely different from the lifeless one on the mask—pleasant and warm, like ice thawing or sun melting snow. "Wouldn't you agree?"

  Hilton looked at the man's expression, while Old Bill glanced at the elven archers ahead. Though they had relaxed their bows and lowered their arrows, it would take only an instant to redraw and aim again. Then both lowered their heads and sighed simultaneously, then looked up at the man and said, "Of course, you're the boss."

  The Druid's surprised expression had disappeared, returning to his usual honest appearance. Jessica blinked her large, dark eyes, watching the man expressionlessly and silently.

  "I heard during my travels that thieves were planning to attack the Tulalion Forest, so I hurried over to see. These friends all joined me along the way. This magic scroll was just a small misunderstanding." The man smiled as he approached the elven elder, saying words that probably no one but himself could distinguish as true or false. "We infiltrated that thief gang along the way. They are probably preparing to attack now. We hurried over first to warn you..."

  A huge explosion sounded from the distant forest, and a large flock of birds in the woods suddenly flew up. The elven elder turned around, horrified, and said, "How is this possible? They're already here? They crossed the barrier?"

  "It must be those thieves. Let's hurry over and see." The man waved at Hilton and the others, running toward that direction with the elves.

  Hilton followed woodenly for a few steps, looked up at the The Withered Wood Warden moving with huge strides beside him. He turned his head, his face full of confusion and trance, and asked, "Don't you all feel... like we've been inexplicably dragged onto this pirate ship... Fuck..."

  "We... aren't we... thieves?" Old Bill gasped from behind. Then he was grabbed by the transformed werewolf Druid and placed on his shoulder.

  "No... I feel... fuck... inexplicable..."

  At the edge of the elven settlement. A raging fire burned fiercely. In the flames, three mutilated The Withered Wood Wardens twisted their bodies. They moved a few times like dying old women dancing, then fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

  On the ground lay more burning fragments of The Withered Wood Wardens, along with over a dozen charred elven corpses. This "Hellfire" scroll had been used just right. The wide range and immense power of this top-tier fire magic instantly destroyed six The Withered Wood Wardens activated by the elven mages' spells.

  But Axsis's face showed no trace of satisfaction. Instead, he looked as if he were about to cry. This "Hellfire" scroll was something he had painstakingly brought out from the Magic Academy when he fled from Ainfast. He had kept it as a life-saving talisman until now. Seeing the The Withered Wood Wardens summoned by those elven mages stepping on and crushing the thieves at the forefront, while the thieves had no way to deal with these things and the elven archers behind them, he had been forced to use it.

  "Great, damn it..." A thief guarding Axsis beside him stuck half his head out from behind his shield, saw the power of this magic clearly, and had just excitedly shouted half a sentence when he immediately fell backward like a log. An arrow had shot into his eye socket, disappearing completely, with only a small tip emerging from the back of his head.

  Immediately, another thief rushed over, picked up the large shield from his not-yet-dead companion's hand, and stood beside Axsis. The shield was large and heavy enough. Their task was to protect the only magic-using vice-captain in the team.

  Thieves kept falling to the ground. But there were no screams of agony—just silent collapses. The elves' arrows usually shot into the head through the eyes or pierced through the throat. These areas couldn't produce screams. There were also many thieves who protected their heads and necks well, but arrows accurately passed between two ribs into the lungs and heart. Whenever the chest or abdomen was hit, it inevitably pierced both fatal organs. Though they might not die immediately upon falling, they couldn't scream either—only making whimpering sounds and twitches like pigs being bled out.

  Although the elves' bows were just ordinary wooden bows and their arm strength wasn't particularly great, among the thieves there were no wounded, only the dead, all killed by a single arrow. This was due to the unbelievable accuracy of the elven archers. There were four hundred thieves, and they couldn't always cover their eyes and throats. The elves had no shortage of targets.

  However, one Hellfire spell finally improved the situation, killing over ten elves and boosting the thieves' morale. Sylka waved his great sword and shouted, "Brothers, charge at them! There aren't many left. These are gold coins! Capture as many as you can!"

  The thieves roared in unison and all rushed forward.

  But Sylka didn't move. Instead, he walked over to Axsis and asked softly, "How many elves do you estimate are left?"

  "How would I know?" Axsis replied with a pained expression. Although they had broken through the barrier and entered the edge of the elven settlement as planned, contrary to expectations, not all elves had been drawn to the other side. Instead, quite a few elves were coming toward their direction, including over a dozen elven mages. Although they all looked surprised when they saw the intruders who had breached the barrier, they immediately organized and attacked them.

  The combat effectiveness displayed by these elves was even more astonishing. The archers' almost invariably fatal arrows were one thing, but when Sylka ordered the thieves to charge forward for close combat, those dozen or so elven mages immediately began casting spells. Trees that had just looked ordinary and unremarkable actually transformed into moving monsters.

  Sylka had now completely relegated the idea of occupying Tulalion to his own imagination. He bet that when he returned, he would tear those who reported this was just a small village to pieces. Moreover, those idiots had completely failed to describe the elves' combat effectiveness properly. Now, with just three or four hundred more such elves, they would only be able to flee with their tails between their legs.

  A volley of arrows immediately answered Sylka's question to Axsis, with dozens of thieves falling in this rain of arrows. This time, many thieves finally screamed. This volley came from elves who had just arrived from other places after hearing the explosion. The long distance or shooting while running caused their aim to deviate slightly.

  Sylka glanced at the hundred-plus elves that had instantly appeared in the forest, his face ashen. Axsis's face looked even worse, screaming like a mouse whose tail had been stepped on, "Damn it, how many elves are there anyway?"

  In just the few seconds they spoke, another hundred-plus elves appeared in their view. And not just elves—tall unicorns also charged out from the forest, diving into the thief group, knocking the thieves at the front head over heels. Simultaneously, a dazzling white light erupted from their horns, and the surrounding thieves immediately all covered their eyes and wailed. Those horns, sturdier and sharper than any longsword, pierced into the thieves' bodies, then lifted and threw, sending thieves flying through the air with trails of blood and sometimes internal organs, screaming miserably.

  The elven mages chanted spells, and thieves who were about to reach the elven archers would immediately be entangled by vines emerging from the ground. The vines would also grow sharp thorns, some even strangling thieves to death alive.

  Following the elven mages' spells, many giant hornets also appeared from nowhere, along with centipedes like small snakes, and spiders larger than crabs and more brightly colored than women's skirts.

  The thieves' charge turned into flight after just three seconds, leaving behind almost half their numbers.

  Those slender, graceful figures and beautiful faces that could be exchanged for countless gold coins had seemed so beautiful and lovely in their minds, but now they were no different from a swarm of suddenly emerging cockroaches. If forced to name a difference, it was that cockroaches were definitely not this terrifying. Dozens of elves could be seen appearing almost every second.

  "Fuck that old man's mother. He actually told us to come here?" Sylka roared, slashing at a unicorn charging toward him. The unicorn let out a mournful cry and the sound of breaking bones. Its larger-than-horse body flew sideways under his sword. He roared at Axsis, "Why don't you fucking take out that scroll the dead old man gave us and use it?"