Chapter 154
I Became the Successor of the Martial God
Chapter 154.
The Soldiers were advancing toward the village from all directions. Yoo Baek-jun lay in wait at a narrow pass they had no choice but to traverse, then ambushed them.
“Undead…!”
He didn’t kill all the soldiers.
There wasn’t enough time for that in the first place. After eliminating some of them in the ambush, he used the Soul Eater Gun to resurrect them as undead.
And then he retreated.
“B-Ben! Ben! Snap out of it! It’s me! Me… Aaah!”
—Grrroooaaah…
The newly created undead swarmed the soldiers, buying enough time.
Yoo Baek-jun had no innate talent for necromancy in the first place. He was merely using the options attached to his items to control the undead.
Though they weren’t particularly strong, human psychology was tricky.
‘These undead were created by someone with formidable power. Who knows what abilities they might have?’
Because of the overwhelming force Yoo Baek-jun displayed during the ambush, the soldiers fell into such delusions.
As a result, they became overly cautious of the undead, wasting more time than necessary.
‘That’s enough.’
His goal wasn’t to eliminate the soldiers anyway.
Yoo Baek-jun moved swiftly, repeating ambushes and summoning undead.
And after some time had passed—
Peeeet!
A bird flew down from the sky.
The hawk-like bird circled Yoo Baek-jun before disappearing somewhere.
It was Ignasil’s signal.
A sign that the traps had been set.
“…….”
Yoo Baek-jun turned around.
While the traps were being triggered, he had to head to the enemy’s stronghold.
To where Farowell was.
* * *
A few minutes after Ignasil’s signal reached Yoo Baek-jun, the traps set in the forest activated.
“Uh… Waaah!”
“Wh-what are these monsters?!”
The ground suddenly collapsed, burying those standing above it.
Trees that had been still sprouted eyes and arms out of nowhere, attacking with them.
Swoooosh!
“Guh!”
All sorts of traps assailed the Royal army—blades of wind slashing from every direction.
With their movements hindered—
“Attack! Fire at will!”
“You bastards…!”
“Elf bastards! Ugh!”
Elves hidden somewhere emerged and unleashed a barrage of arrows indiscriminately.
Once done, they retreated without hesitation, driving the Royal army mad.
“Stop! It’s a trap. They’ve set up quite the show.”
Of course, not all traps succeeded.
Some failed to inflict significant damage because elf hunters anticipated them.
Still, more succeeded than failed, slowing the kingdom’s advance.
“Captain!”
“Endure it! We just need to reach the village. Those bastards have nowhere to run anyway!”
That’s what the Royal armies believed.
That the elves, who cherished their homeland and forest, were doing this to protect their village.
If they could just push through and reach the village, even with some losses, it would all be over.
“Slow the march. Even if it takes longer, we’ll win once we reach the village!”
“Yes, sir!”
The soldiers’ advance slowed.
The elves harassed them relentlessly, further delaying their progress.
This happened all across the forest.
“Though we’re outnumbered, the traps can help mask that fact.”
Elves were masters of the bow.
A single elf could unleash a rapid barrage of arrows.
Ignasil used this to confuse the Royal armies about their numbers.
And this—
“Let’s hope this buys him time”
It would undoubtedly be of help.
* * *
The outskirts of the forest.
Many of the densely grown trees had been cut down, replaced by rows of tents.
The encampment of the Baim Kingdom.
“Stay vigilant! The elves are conducting guerrilla warfare outside the village. They might come here, so be on guard!”
News of the elves leaving the village to wage guerrilla warfare had reached the encampment.
So the soldiers were preparing for a potential ambush.
“…….”
Inside the largest tent in the encampment.
A group of people was holding a meeting.
Advisors in armor and mages.
And at the head—a knight.
“I hear the elves are waging guerrilla warfare.”
A man with ash-gray short hair, clad in black armor emblazoned with the emblem of a fire-breathing dragon—Farowell.
His cold gaze swept across the room.
“…Yes, it seems they’re doing so throughout the forest. They’ve also set traps, inflicting considerable damage on our soldiers.”
“Are there many elves? We’ve already captured quite a number.”
Farowell glanced toward the prison outside.
A prison holding the elves captured by the kingdom’s forces in the Ruwinid Forest.
Over a hundred elves were imprisoned there.
“I don’t think… there are many more, but I can’t be certain. They might have rallied all the elves in the village for an all-out fight.”
“Unacceptable.”
Farowell clicked his tongue.
“You’re aware we’re on a critical mission, correct? The future of the kingdom is at stake. And you’re telling me we don’t even know their exact numbers?”
“Th-that’s…”
Farowell glared at the advisor who had spoken.
“You should consider yourself lucky I haven’t cut you down yet.”
“……!”
“Send out the troops stationed here. Those bastards won’t leave this forest anyway. That’s the nature of elves.”
This place was once under the protection of the World Tree, but the World Tree had suddenly vanished.
They wouldn’t leave, clinging to the hope that the World Tree might return someday.
Unless they found another World Tree—but that was nearly impossible.
“But Sir Knight Commander, that would weaken the encampment’s defenses. If the elves attack, we might struggle to respond effectively.”
“Are you saying that to me?”
“Huh?”
“Are you saying that to Farowell?”
Shiiiing!
Farowell drew his sword.
The blade gleamed with a chilling aura.
As the man said to be closest to becoming a Sword Master, the aura around his blade was deeper and more intense than anyone else’s.
“My apologies, I spoke out of turn.”
“There are areas where the elves are resisting fiercely. Send troops there to surround them.”
“Good. And just in case, send soldiers to the World Tree as well. The elf hunters said to guard that area too.”
A vicious smile curled on Farowell’s lips.
“We must capture as many as possible. Understood? They will all serve the future of our kingdom—as slaves.”
“Yes, sir!”
The advisors scrambled out of the tent.
Soon after, the sounds of soldiers preparing for deployment echoed through the encampment.
‘This mission must succeed.’
Farowell stroked his scabbard as he thought.
Originally, the 1st Knight Commander was supposed to lead this operation. But he opposed the elf hunt, so the task fell to the 2nd Knight Commander.
Himself.
‘The 1st Knight Commander’s stubbornness has even the royal family cowed. If I succeed here…’
The tide would turn in his favor.
Thus, this mission had to succeed—and with outstanding results.
Farowell spent a long time discussing strategies with the remaining mages.
“…….”
Once the discussion ended and the mages left, the tent fell silent again.
Lost in thought, Farowell eventually stood up.
He left the tent and headed somewhere.
“Sir Knight Commander!”
His destination was the encampment’s prison.
The guards stationed there greeted him.
“Any changes?”
“We’ve captured new elves. Most of them are female this time.”
“Hmm…”
Farowell stepped inside.
Though objectively far from a pleasant environment, the prison carried an inexplicably pleasant scent—like that of a forest.
“…….”
“…….”
The prison held many people.
None other than elves.
Yet the prison was eerily quiet.
The elves remained bound and silent, watched over by guards.
“Beautiful.”
Farowell observed the elf slaves.
The elves imprisoned in the encampment’s cells were all breathtakingly beautiful.
“Like gifts from the gods themselves.”
Farowell couldn’t help but marvel.
Their beauty was out of this world, carrying a mystique no human could match.
“Sir Farowell. Over there…”
“The newly captured elves?”
“Yes, sir.”
Farowell looked toward the corner of the prison.
A group of young, beautiful elves huddled together, trembling.
“Young elves.”
“Yes. And all female. We’ve locked up even more of them.”
“That many?”
Dozens of female elves.
Clad in simple green robes, their plain attire only accentuated their striking looks.
Such beauty.
“Bring that one.”
“Yes, sir!”
At his gesture, a soldier dragged forward the most beautiful elf.
“Ah!”
“Such beauty. Just looking at her is intoxicating.”
Farowell gripped the elf’s chin.
His gaze burned with greed, making her shudder.
His fingers traced her jaw, then her cheek, stopping near her mesmerizing eyes.
“Flawless skin, perfect features, mystical hair, and those eyes… All of it suits me perfectly.”
“Hng… Ah!”
His thumb brushed her lips.
Then, with a smirk, he grabbed her arm and threw her back into the cell.
“Heh. To think I’d see so many elf slaves in one place—creatures so hard to obtain.”
“Would you like to take one, sir?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. His Majesty will reward me regardless. And more importantly…”
The fallen elf wept.
Farowell’s lips curled into a vicious smile.
“One could never be enough.”
He slowly turned away.
Just as he was about to leave—
“What the—?!”
“Ugh!”
A deafening explosion shook the ground.
For a moment, it felt like an earthquake.
“What’s happening?!”
Farowell rushed outside.
What greeted him was a sky raining down lightning—and soldiers dying.
Boom!
“Aaaargh!”
Burning.
Soldiers struck by the lightning bolts were charred black.
The acrid smoke, the stench of burning flesh.
Mages stationed nearby scrambled out of their tents.
“Magic?!”
“Th-that can’t be…! There was no sign of a spell being cast!”
“You dare say that after seeing this?!”
Farowell’s voice was icy.
His men were dying. This was no time for excuses—it was time to act.
“Deploy defensive spells. Now!”
“Y-yes, sir!”
The mages rushed into action.
Farowell channeled magic, sending thin threads of it spreading outward to detect any presence.
‘Whoever cast such powerful magic must possess immense magic.’
He sought the source.
But—
‘What?’
Nothing.
Despite the scale of the spell, he sensed no magical power in the surroundings.
A spell of this magnitude should have left traces of magic.
“Where are you? Where?!”
“Huh? Me?”
“Huh— Ugh!”
A voice came from right behind him.
At the same time, an overwhelming force slammed into his back, sending him flying.
Before he could recover, his attacker closed in, unleashing a barrage of strikes.
“Guh— Ugh!”
Midair, he couldn’t even defend properly.
Farowell endured the blows, trusting his armor.
Then he landed.
Farowell barely managed to steady himself.
“Who the hell are you?!”
“Who else? The guy you’re looking for.”
A man stood opposite him.
“I’m here to catch you, you kidnapping bastard.”
Yoo Baek-jun.