The Lightning Shadow Elf Deshunan

Deshunan, the Shadow Elf known by the epithet "Zookeeper." A top-priority wanted criminal across the continent. But it had been over a hundred years since the warrant for his arrest was issued. Despite the massive bounty on his head, he remained at large, repeating the very acts in the dark corners of the Great Forest that had branded him a fugitive.

Deshunan was an explorer of magical beasts. Even Pellelian the Reverse Heaven Mage had acknowledged his talent for breeding and taming dangerous monsters. Convinced that Pellelian was dead, Deshunan had roamed in search of his dungeon. Then one day, he discovered a particularly hard-to-excavate one. Using goblins for the dig was a brilliant stroke of genius. Things had gone slightly off-plan now, but it wasn't bad. He'd captured a new Hobgoblin King alive.

A wound marred Deshunan's cheek. He licked the dripping blood from it. To think a freshly evolved goblin had managed to injure him. Absurd. Deshunan laughed until the gash throbbed.

His current condition was far from ideal. He'd been bitten by one of the monsters he was raising—that was the problem. With fangs as thick as his forearm, five massive holes had been punched into his body. Most of his magic armament was damaged and under repair. He was operating at maybe a quarter of his usual strength. But that didn't matter; he could still wield his specialty, blood magic. The "Twelve Blood Serpents" that writhed like living things could serve as defense too.

Nanaruk the goblin had crushed all twelve serpents and even scarred Deshunan's cheek.

"The more I look, the more I like this specimen."

But now, even that Nanaruk hung limp, throat gripped by Deshunan. One of the blood serpents was burrowing into her abdomen.

"Strong, beautiful, and with exceptional mental fortitude."

Deshunan resolved to capture Nanaruk. He'd add her to his "zoo."

"Why won't you talk? Is it really because of that snake god?"

He'd heard there was a snake called Uluruuluru in the dungeon. Was that the only reason?

Nanaruk refused to reveal the dungeon's entrance to the end. It was futile anyway; a thorough search would uncover it soon enough. To Deshunan, it was pointless struggling. He sent a mental command to the blood serpent. The one embedded in Nanaruk's wound writhed.

"Aaaargh!"

"You. Tell me instead. About that snake."

He pointed at the young shaman. She glanced around nervously, then stammered.

"Uluruuluru is……."

But Deshunan frowned in dissatisfaction even after her explanation.

"A magical beast? Serpent type? Why call it a god?"

"H-he understands human speech, wields magic, and led us goblins."

"So it killed Crock. You worship that snake beast as a god. Very goblin-like. Fitting for monsters who think they're people……."

Deshunan was a shadow elf who'd lived quite a long time. His knowledge ran deep and wide. Drawing on the shaman's words, he recalled what he knew.

"When did this beast appear to you? Size? Appearance?"

The shaman stammered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through her description. Deshunan found it amusing how the goblins' faces grew serious whenever the snake was mentioned.

"I see, I see. Nothing special."

His interest waned quickly. He knew serpent beasts and goblins intimately—even the myths surrounding them.

"A derivative myth with a separate archetype."

Myths have prototypes. Like various sun myths, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or moon myths as their sisters. Serpent myths were diverse too. Especially goblin-worshipped snake gods.

"Goblins are scattered across the world's regions, each worshipping snake gods differently. Names and details vary."

Like a professor lecturing students, he flicked his fingers through the air.

"Horned serpents, speaking serpents, mountain-coiling giants, feathered serpents, riddle-giving serpents, death-defying serpents. And among them, the closest to the archetype. Uluruuluru? Similar vibes."

Probably a deformation over time by the Runga tribe here.

"Ouroboros."

That was surely the ancient snake god's true name.

"Ouroboros of the Apocalypse. Names deform often: Ourkios, Ulrboros, Uroboros. But Uluruuluru? That's a new ridiculous one. Haha."

Deshunan mocked the goblins. The paling goblins murmured "Ouroboros." The word carried weight—an ancient power. Pronouncing it felt crushing.

"And it's not a black snake. The original Ouroboros was white."

A massive white serpent, indeed. Then, a chuckling laugh echoed.

"You idiot."

Nanaruk, blood trickling from her mouth, glared at Deshunan.

"It was white originally."

Deshunan grimaced unpleasantly. The red serpent in her gut writhed.

"Aaaargh!"

"Such a foul mouth. You'll be tamed after branding."

Nanaruk fainted from the pain.

"Guide me to the dungeon if you don't want her dead."

With Nanaruk unconscious, the goblins couldn't resist Deshunan's demand. They led him to one of the holes under Elephant Rock, apologizing inwardly to the benevolent white snake. To Uluruuluru—or Ouroboros.

Before Pellelian's dungeon, Deshunan calmed his excitement. The security wouldn't be ordinary. Breaking through with one hobgoblin wouldn't be easy. He'd kill the rest. That very moment—

A real white snake slithered out. No ordinary beast. Average size, but the horn on its head, the beautifully gleaming scales.

"Ho, a real snake."

Deshunan exclaimed in admiration, but the snake didn't flee. It raised its head proudly, staring at Nanaruk. That instant, its scales turned black. Many beasts change color—usually camouflage. Fleeing? But Deshunan's seasoned instincts warned otherwise. That was battle stance. A serpent shifting scales for combat? Unheard of.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out. The snake hurtled straight at Deshunan. Faster than an arrow, fangs bared sharply. He could block with one hand. But an inexplicable instinct grazed his nape. He trusted it, hurling Nanaruk aside. Raising one hand, he cast.

Blood magic: Blood Drop Slow would suffice. Minimal physical force, but enough to slow foes.

The drop hit the snake. That was Deshunan's first mistake.

The snake's patterns glowed, repelling the drop.

"Magic defense?" Unlikely for such a beast. Then physical it was. He flung the crescent blade hidden in his wrist. A snake would sever cleanly. That instant—

The ground shook. The blade veered wildly.

"Magic too!"

Failing to anticipate that was his second mistake. He retraced Pellelian's exact sequence of awe. Meanwhile, the snake closed in.

"No choice."

He recalled all mana for minimal defense. The twelve serpents, shattered by Nanaruk, reformed. The heart-biting serpent was bound tight by the red blood serpents.

"Capture, don't kill!"

Another shadow elf wouldn't have. But Deshunan's greed spared the snake. His final mistake.

The bound snake's momentum didn't falter. It just glared at Deshunan. Mana surged from it. Deshunan's hair rose. Sparks crackled from his clothes. He'd seen it once before. Right before a storm.

His pet cat on the roof, fur standing…….

"No way……."

Deshunan desperately tried to sever the snake's neck. That instant—

Blue sparks crackled from its scales. Lightning struck from a clear sky.

I came to, in the midst of it.

Borrowing Horn itself guzzles mana. But with my capacity tripled, plenty remained.

All that mana drained in an instant.

'Store heaven's lightning in your heart.' That was Heavenly Thunder Command's description.

Lightning from the sky struck me. Krzzzzzt! My inner ears rang. Searing heat. Blinding flash—I couldn't see. The red tentacles gripping me burned. The shadow elf must be electrocuted. Even blind, it was clear. Finish it.

Did the bolt blind him too?

-Forward. Strike!

Pellelian advised. He could see, apparently.

Bite? No, biting wouldn't kill this shadow elf. Instinct told me so.

-A bit more right, yes, one step forward.

Pellelian pinpointed. I leaped upward—not to bite. Summoned the sword from subspace. Blind, but my tail gripped the hilt easily. I'd practiced for days. Pellelian had scolded my showboating, but look. Perfect.

Lightning still clung to me. It arced along my tail to the blade.

-Yes, that's the neck.

Got it.

Heavenly Thunder Swordsmanship. Form 1: Neck Sever.

The blade sliced through something. A shrill ring pierced the tinnitus. Thud, roll roll roll. Ah, head falling sound.

It hurts, waaah. If I could cry, tears would stream now. But snakes have nictitating membranes—no tears. So I swallowed the burning agony whole.

"Just endure a little longer."

The head shaman grandma's worried voice. Pellelian's gruff nagging irked me.

-Quit whining.

Shwaa. Cool liquid soaked me. Potion. Wounds began healing. Heavenly Thunder Command's bolt scorched me too. No shock, but the heat was inevitable.

Ah, vision clearing! Nanaruk?

Thankfully, she breathed raggedly, alive. Covered in potion too.

Whoa, thought I was done for.

'Saw it?'

-What?

Heavenly Thunder Swordsmanship—no, Command.

-Saw it. Impressive technique.

Pellelian was honest. Hiding a skill like that, Gunter? Summoning lightning? Awesome. The shadow elf's headless corpse still smoked.

-Doesn't seem meant for that use…….

I agree. Why strike yourself mid-fight? Not for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠electrocuting allies en masse. Anyway, this skill let me fell the shadow elf. An ace up my sleeve. A few more ordeals, and Borrowing Horn recharges.

But why no level-up? That weak?

Pellelian sighed in relief at the shadow elf. Clear underestimation.

-Not shadow elf issue—good it wasn't a Golden Leaf Investigator. Tormenting goblins here? Small fry.

Casual dismissal. Discriminating against shadow elves? No equal fairy treatment, huh. Expected at least one level. Wasn't I badass?

"Urk."

I startled, leaping back. The severed head groaned.

"To think…… this puny…… beast……."

Headless and talking? Even Pellelian gawked.

-W-wait. I know this guy?

What?

-The Zookeeper! That mad shadow elf Deshunan! Sold his soul to a devil!

Small fry, you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠said.

-Back off! Don't get close.

I obeyed. As I retreated from the head—

"Kieeeek!"

It screamed, shadow elongating black. The head melted into it.

Not small fry at all.

Oof! My EXP. Leveling jackpot ruined. But no time to sulk.

……Five at once? At 1/10th? Full amount might've triggered evolution. Eh, don't dwell. One-shotting him was a miracle anyway.

-Obviously. You've used up a lifetime's luck. Know that.

Saying it like that scares me. Gotta play careful for a while.

'Stronger than you, old man?'

-That guy? Heh.

Pellelian just laughed.

-I remember him 'cause he's so weird. Dare compare to me?

'Yes, sir!'

His swagger meant a ramble incoming. I tuned out, looting the headless corpse. Proper hunter protocol.

Neat stuff. Plop. Then a half-burnt notebook fell.

'Diary?'

Handwritten records. Flipping pages, readable text. Monster notes everywhere, but one line caught me.

'What the.'

-What. No way…….