Chapter 83. The High Elves' Sanctuary (2)
After encountering the Jo family, Kim Jeonghyeon—now several times stronger—moved with power overflowing from every limb.
The power of the Demon King he possessed was meant to strengthen his comrades.
Yet even without a single ally nearby, he was butchering the high elves, who excelled in magic and healing.
“Why! Because you're human, you can't bring yourself to kill?!”
Whoosh—! Splash!
Fresh blood sprayed from the tip of Jeonghyeon's blade as it traced a massive arc.
Two or more high elves collapsed to the ground at once.
“What, am I going easy on you because you're not beastkin?”
Splash!
A merciless slaughter.
The high elves, facing a baptism of death for the first time, lost their will to fight in stunned horror.
“What's wrong? You've all done this before!”
Half out of his mind, Jeonghyeon sliced through dozens of high elves in an instant, then lowered his blade and turned to Romanell.
“What? Surprised?”
“What in the world... are you?”
“The Demon King.”
Romanell's fists trembled.
He didn't even dare drink a strengthening potion.
The moment he showed any real intent to fight, that fiendish blood-drenched sword would target his neck.
Instead, Romanell chose dialogue.
“Let's... talk this out first.”
“How ironic. This is the complete opposite of our first meeting.”
“What... what do you want?”
“I'll kill everyone except you. Every last high elf.”
“......”
“And you'll guide me to that dogshit 'sacred' basement where you keep the beastkin locked up.”
Jeonghyeon slowly dragged the tip of his blade across the ground as he approached Romanell.
“I'll lock you in there. Until you can make potions without using beastkin blood.”
With that, he leveled the sword at Romanell's throat.
“I hear high elves can survive for years without food or water. Better do a good job.”
“Why go this far?! What have we done wrong? What's the difference between you and us?!”
Romanell cried out as if venting his agony.
Humans were rare in Afraksas, but the high elves knew of their existence.
Unlike Jeonghyeon's actions, which were straight out of a Demon King's playbook, his appearance was that of an utterly ordinary human.
“No difference at all? I'm just avenging my allies.”
And his goal was the utterly ordinary goal of a human.
“And quit pretending to be so righteous. They all come back to life anyway.”
At Jeonghyeon's words, the anxiety on Romanell's face slowly hardened into a cold mask.
His furrowed brow relaxed, and his eyes turned icy as they fixed on Jeonghyeon.
With all expression wiped away, the only remnant on his face was a twisted smirk.
“How do you know that?”
Romanell asked.
“I've got a bit of history with you high elves.”
Jeonghyeon replied.
A chill settled between them.
“What? What's this about? Am I the only one lost here?”
Nus's irritated voice shattered the frozen tension.
“Tell me what's going on!”
***
“So... high elves don't really die when they die?”
All high elves were linked through a single collective consciousness.
Thus, when one died, another was born in its place.
And that new elf inherited the dead one's memories, habits—even quirks and illnesses.
That was why there were so few high elves.
“To kill high elves, you have to wipe them all out at once. That's why these bastards live scattered far and wide.”
Nus scowled in disbelief at Jeonghyeon's explanation.
“What kind of race even does that?”
“You come back to life as long as there's mana left.”
“I was never dead to begin with!”
“It's similar.”
“......Really?”
Romanell, still with a blade at his throat, let out a scoff as he watched Jeonghyeon and Nus.
“So what? Even if we die here, can you withstand a war with all high elves?”
It was the line Jeonghyeon had been waiting for.
“Elaha's Garden, Ram's Fortress, Vitur's Desert, Lois's Palace, Eldrin's Citadel, Yum's Valley.”
Jeonghyeon listed off the high elf settlements one by one, as if to show off.
All information straight from his past life's Romanell, who had trusted him and begged him to protect their kin.
There were no high elves living outside these places.
“Elves live long lives, so their growth is slow, right?”
A vile grin spread across Jeonghyeon's face.
Crushing an opponent's arrogance when they were drunk on it was always a pleasure.
Noticing this, Nus spoke with contempt, as if eyeing a true villain.
“You... looking at you like this, you really are the Demon King.”
“Shut up. So, what now, Romanell? Want me to kill your beloved Lailia too?”
Lailia. The high elf Romanell had loved his entire life.
A blessing and curse of high elves—afflicted with cancer, she had died and revived endlessly in battle against the disease.
And Jeonghyeon had cured her with modern medicine from his dimension.
That bond had made the high elves his allies in his past life.
Now, those allies were enemies, and the event that forged their alliance had become leverage for blackmail.
This feels weird.
“......What do you want?”
After all his posturing, Romanell now looked dejected, lowering his weapon entirely in what amounted to surrender.
The feeling was strange, but it confirmed that knowledge from his past life was Jeonghyeon's greatest weapon.
“Take me underground.”
“......Understood.”
“Hey, Romanell.”
Jeonghyeon slipped the blade slightly into Romanell's throat.
Crimson blood trickled from the tip, staining his white collar.
“That's a bit curt.”
“......Yes, sir.”
“There we go.”
Only then did Jeonghyeon store the blade he'd held to Romanell's neck for minutes in his inventory.
“You're really the Demon King. Even Malekith wasn't this bad.”
“Shut up.”
Jeonghyeon and Nus followed Romanell underground.
As they passed through the elf village, the high elves—who had witnessed everything through their mental link—hid at the sight of Jeonghyeon.
***
Creeeak—.
A secret door beneath the village sanctuary.
Activating the magic circle inscribed in ancient high elf script revealed the basement.
“Guess you knew it was shameful. Hiding it underground like this. If you were so proud, you'd have built it above ground.”
Jeonghyeon grew furious mid-sentence at the sheer depravity and struck the back of Romanell's head hard, channeling Horakti's rage.
Smack! The sound echoed through the underground.
“I... I'm sorry.”
“What? Pissed off? What's with that look? Should I call Horakti? That guy would slaughter you all right now.”
“No, sir. I sincerely repent.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let's keep it civil.”
They hadn't walked far when a brightly lit space appeared—starkly at odds with the blood exploitation above.
Like a temple, its brickwork was adorned with golden ornaments at every joint, and the floor was etched with pure white circuits.
Those circuits connected to the necks and arms of beastkin imprisoned behind massive iron bars.
“Ha. Unbelievable.”
He'd expected the worst, but this level of misery was beyond imagination.
The beastkin, all blindfolded, trembled and whimpered at the mere sound of footsteps.
“How many?”
“12...... sir.”
“Bullshit. There are clearly dozens here. Speak properly.”
Fuck. Maybe I should just kill him once.
As Jeonghyeon raised his arm, Romanell cowered, shielding his head.
And his response made Jeonghyeon regret not killing him earlier.
“No...... 12...... floors, sir.”
“12 floors...? There are 12 more floors of these beastkin?”
“Yes......”
At Romanell's answer, Nus glanced at Jeonghyeon and...
“Hey...... go easy on him, Demon King.”
...slipped tactfully into Jeonghyeon's inventory.
“Release them all. Now.”
“Y-yes......? But......”
“I said release them. Before I wipe out your entire race.”
They said truly furious people don't curse.
Instead of his usual profanity, Jeonghyeon's rage poured out word by painstaking word.
“Yes, sir......”
Romanell disconnected the circuits one by one and unlocked the iron doors, moving like a man headed to his execution.
The moment the blindfolds came off, the beastkin would rip out his throat. That's why this so-called Demon King ordered the release.
So be it. Just die once.
With that thought, Romanell removed the blindfolds.
Click.
The securely fastened blindfolds and shackles fell away, but the beastkin didn't attack Romanell.
They simply stared piercingly at him with terror-stricken eyes.
“......Waiting for an opening... sir?”
“Goddamn it. They're just scared, you idiot.”
Jeonghyeon smashed the back of Romanell's head instead.
Infusing it with just enough mana to avoid killing him.
Bam—!
Jeonghyeon yanked Romanell up by the hair from where his head had slammed into the floor.
“Look closely. This is you draining blood from terrified young beastkin, slitting their throats, and offering them as sacrifices.”
He hurled Romanell into the cage.
But the beastkin only backed away, pressing against the walls with frightened eyes. No attacks.
“Do they look as savage as you thought? Like they deserve to die?”
“Ah...... no...... cough!”
“You moron. Hurry up and free the rest.”
At Jeonghyeon's command, Romanell personally released the beastkin on all 12 floors.
Each time, Jeonghyeon bashed the back of his head, leaving his nose bloody and his steps unsteady—but not a single beastkin attacked him.
“I was told beastkin were filthy savages, driven only by hunting and violence......”
Romanell looked confused instead.
“If they were the ones you'd nearly hunted down, they'd fight tooth and nail. But look at these beastkin here.”
All of them were young, not even fully grown, with downy fur still intact.
Children who barely knew of high elves' existence.
“Did these bloody lumps even know what you planned to do to them?”
High elves were inherently survivors—adept in vitality, recovery, and magic.
Pure combat prowess couldn't match beastkin.
So they'd targeted only the young.
That pissed Jeonghyeon off even more.
Better to fight fair like orcs and ogres, battling for territory with lives on the line.
Not this cowardly, despicable snatching of children to drain their blood.
“Thanks to you, my illusions about high elves are thoroughly shattered.”
“Then...... what happens to me now?”
Romanell looked up at Jeonghyeon with trembling eyes.
“Who knows. If you truly repent, sever your immortality, and swear loyalty to the beastkin, I might let you live.”
“R-really?!”
Hope flickered across Romanell's face.
“But.”
Jeonghyeon snapped his fingers. Purple mana leaked from his forehead, and behind him appeared the beastkin sovereign with golden wings flapping furiously—Horakti, brimming with rage.
Rumble—!
The instant his mana manifested before Romanell's eyes, the hope on his face drowned in despair.
“I might forgive you, but I doubt my friend will.”