The Traitor's Agony
“Ah… aaah…”
Jalot trembled as he watched Leon and Sasha approach him. With every step they took, narrowing the distance, the shadow of death loomed larger.
Dark elves were born warriors. Lithe bodies, sturdy stamina, exceptional senses. They leveraged those three weapons to shine as warriors of the Kakal tribe. But they didn’t just fight as warriors; at times, they moved as covert assassins, ferreting out enemy intel and eliminating key figures.
Danger always shadowed important missions, and not every assassin returned home after completing their task. Sometimes, those sent out on missions were captured by holy knights and subjected to brutal torture. To prevent leaking information even if caught, they studied torture methods and built up resistance to them.
It started as simple research to endure torture. But repeated studies and training transformed the dark elves into experts at it themselves. In other words, they weren’t just unmatched at withstanding torture—they excelled at inflicting it too.
“H-Hey, Leon. You gonna torture me? Your fellow tribesman? Please… grant me a merciful death…”
Leon didn’t respond. Jalot shuddered and glanced at Sasha. She returned a gaze as cold as ice.
No peaceful death awaited. Only a horrific one.
“S-Stop! Stay back! Leon! You bastard! I’m your master! I taught you the sword! You gonna kill your teacher now?!”
“Yeah, I’m grateful to you.”
Leon spoke with a face devoid of any smile.
“Thanks to the swordsmanship you taught me, I can kill you now.”
“Ugh… uuuugh… uwaaaaaah!”
Yoahim turned his head away at the erupting scream. Sharp metallic clashes, flesh tearing, bones snapping, and screams. Leon and Sasha were surely dispatching Jalot slowly, like demons from hell.
Yoahim didn’t bother confirming Jalot’s end. He’d suffer pain commensurate with his crimes before plummeting to hell.
“Keurk…”
The torture ended with a final, chilling, pathetic wail that could’ve come from man or beast.
Yoahim slowly turned at the sound of footsteps approaching him. Leon and Sasha, splattered with filth from head to toe, stared at him.
Leon spoke in a flat tone.
“Apostle, it’s done.”
EXP gained indirectly from commanding the undead unit, plus the chunk from Jalot’s death, pushed his level up by two. Now at Lv.47. Not high-level yet, but steady growth.
“Thank you, Apostle. Thanks to you, we could avenge our tribe.”
Sasha bowed her head. Her eyes were slightly red, but Yoahim pretended not to notice.
“Satisfied?”
“If you mean revenge on Jalot… yes, it was satisfying. But our tribe’s vengeance isn’t over yet.”
Revenge burned fiercely in Sasha’s eyes. Jalot’s betrayal contributed to her tribe’s fall, but it was the holy knights who slaughtered the dark elves and torched the village. True revenge hadn’t even begun.
She’d repay every agonizing, horrific memory they’d endured. Burn their villages, shatter their temples, slaughter humans. For her tribe’s vengeance, Sasha was fully committed.
“Apostle, my revenge isn’t finished.”
Dangerous eyes. Those blinded by purpose met miserable ends. Still, Yoahim couldn’t call her revenge-obsessed. Her tribe vanished overnight; she lost her family. Could he tell someone like that vengeance was futile?
He just hoped her path didn’t lead to the worst outcome.
“…Our mission ends here for now. Rest until the main force arrives.”
Yoahim checked the remaining troops and stationed them around the village. He ordered skeletons to gather materials from the surroundings to repair the palisade.
Levia Castle was farther off, but enemies could swarm back anytime. His mission: clear the path to Levia Castle. In other words, hold this position until the main force arrived.
“If fighting breaks out again, the palisade side gives us the edge.”
Yoahim had crushed Jalot’s unit easily by blasting the palisade with magic from the start. Now on defense, they needed it rebuilt.
“…But they’re doing a shitty job.”
Materials for the palisade were gathered somehow. Repairing it was the issue. Skeletons were the lowest undead—good for simple orders, not complex ones. Zombies and ghouls had slightly higher intelligence, but they were just crudely patching holes rather than proper repairs.
Necromancy level affects undead behavior.
Even with the same undead, a novice necromancer and a master differed vastly. Powerful necromancers built castles and fortresses with undead because their skill influenced behavior.
Any more relics to find?
Killing Dellyon and finding the relic boosted Necromancy by two levels. Another could raise it further.
Need at least level 7. Then I can command Death Knights and build my own force.
If Haellagos’s faction collapsed entirely, Yoahim might have to leave and raise power elsewhere. Just a contingency, but no reason not to prepare.
“Apostle.”
Lost in thought, Leon approached from behind. Yoahim responded without turning.
“Yeah? Spit it out. Why’re you hesitating?”
Leon unusually silent, so Yoahim tossed in a joke. Only then did Leon step beside him and speak.
“Take good care of Sasha.”
What the hell? Yoahim blinked in confusion.
“Where you going? Why say that outta nowhere?”
“No, I’m not going anywhere. If I ever leave, it’d be to the divine realm of Kakal.”
He’d stay by Yoahim’s side until death. Leon sometimes seemed half-mad, but he was still one of Yoahim’s most precious friends, alongside Sasha.
“Why say that?”
“Sasha lives only for revenge. Dangerously so.”
“…”
“Raello’s forces are mighty. Sasha’s power is negligible by comparison. Like an egg against a rock. She can borrow Haellagos’s strength now, but I still think her revenge is impossible.”
Repay what they suffered. No—more than that. Too much for one person. Even a group. They faced the whole world.
Blind purpose led to tragedy. Leon already knew that.
“You seem skeptical about revenge.”
“Right. I hate the holy knights, of course. Destroying my tribe and burning our village infuriates me. But I won’t pursue meaningless vengeance.”
Come to think of it, Leon had never spoken of revenge. It was always Sasha railing against the holy knights’ atrocities and demanding payback.
“We’re alive. We survived. And being alive means we must live on. Not rush toward death.”
“…Then why stick with Sasha? No intent to avenge?”
“Can’t leave her alone. I was a warrior of the Black Root tribe. A guardian of the people. And Sasha is the last tribesman I must protect as her guardian. If someone has to die, it’s me. I’m the warrior.”
This guy knows how to say cool shit.
Yoahim had pegged Leon as a mere psycho killer, but he was deeper than that. Yoahim patted his shoulder.
“No worries. No one’s dying. Why would you, with me here?”
Leon gave a faint smile.
“Don’t die either, Apostle. If you do, I’ll kill you.”
Why do you keep threatening to kill me? Yoahim laughed in exasperation, meeting Leon’s gaze with a grin.
Sasha approached then, tilting her head at the two.
“Something fun happen?”
“Nah, just chatting. What’s up, Sasha?”
“Oh, nothing major. The undead finished repairing the palisade. Well… ‘repair’ might be generous.”
Yoahim nodded.
“Main force not here yet? Beef up patrols for possible raids.”
To assault Levia Castle, Haellagos mobilized a massive army. Gates allowed instant long-distance travel, but with troop limits. From Haellagoria here required two gates and half a day’s march. More troops slowed it further.
Even if the main force followed right after Yoahim, hours more wait.
“Leon, Sasha—scout Levia Castle’s status. I’ll hold here for the main force.”
They nodded. Solo recon because undead couldn’t match horse mobility. Couldn’t drag subordinates if escape needed.
“We’ll head out.”
With Leon and Sasha gone, Yoahim waited alone in the village. Bored, he killed time blankly.
Clop-clop-clop!
The harsh hoofbeats on the ground snapped his head around. Seeing the massive dust cloud, he vaguely thought Leon and Sasha were back early.
“Huh?”
Something’s off. No gale winds, just a couple horses—how such a huge dust cloud? What’re those silhouettes flickering in it? Too many for recon return. Way too many.
“Apostle.”
Leon’s flat voice pierced the dust. His emotionless face as ever.
“Big trouble. We’ve got pursuit.”
“…”
Fuck.
Yoahim clutched the back of his neck, eyeing the ghost horses hot on Leon and Sasha’s tails.