The Burning Night Sky

The clamor of the beach lasted until nightfall, but Lanlos, having long since departed, was destined to avoid that annoying noise.

Tethered to the side, the chocobo kept pecking at the rope with its sharp beak; clearly, its brief time with Lanlos had left it quite traumatized, and it had never craved freedom as much as it did now.

Unfortunately, the meticulously treated rope remained unscathed.

Not far away, Lanlos focused on the roasted rabbit meat over the campfire, glancing from time to time at the distracted Ilana in front of him.

It seemed this young girl still couldn't stop worrying about Sores. Shaking his head helplessly, Lanlos handed a skewer of cooked meat to her: "Don't worry anymore. Sores isn't as troublesome as you think. I left plenty of marks along the way; I'm sure he'll catch up to us soon."

Giving the elven youth a grateful look, Ilana took the meat but had no appetite to taste it: "I'm just afraid that if..."

Taking a hearty bite of the hot meat, Lanlos shifted his attention to the darkness behind them: "I say, peeking isn't a good habit."

While Ilana was still stunned, a hearty laugh rang out from behind: "Haha! Lanlos, I really have to look at you with new eyes!"

A familiar face gradually came into focus. Sores scratched his messy hair, and a look of embarrassment slowly crept onto his face.

It made sense; after all, in everyone's eyes, Lanlos had always been a sickly, down-and-out noble. Now, not to mention the feat of intercepting a lightning bolt with a fireball, the fact that he had easily discovered his stealth was just... too embarrassing.

More importantly, this youth was now a spellcaster!

Glancing at Sores's awkward smile, Lanlos certainly knew what he was thinking: "You're smiling like that, and it's making me a bit nervous."

"Heh heh." Lanlos's words made the ranger realize that this kid still overlapped with the impression in his memory, which made him relax significantly.

"Sores!" Beside them, Ilana threw herself into the ranger's arms without regard for her image, but as luck would have it, the impact hit the latter's injury.

"Hiss!" Gasping, Sores almost lost his footing. Seeing him like this, Ilana was at a loss for a moment: "Wh-what's wrong?"

"It's nothing." Catching the worry in the girl's eyes, Sores waved his hand, hiding the fact that he was injured. To prevent her from asking further, he shifted the topic to Lanlos: "Speaking of which, Lanlos, when did you become a mage?"

"This morning." Focusing on the food in his hand, Lanlos answered quite casually.

However, Sores looked at him with disbelief: "What? Still keeping secrets from me?"

"You can intercept that shaman's lightning bolt in less than a day? I've spent a few years in the military, and even intermediate spellcasters can't guarantee they could do that. Are you really trying to fool me into thinking I'm ignorant?"

"Believe it or not." Lanlos couldn't be bothered to explain. After finishing his food, he stomped out the campfire and walked toward the chocobo.

Although a bit reckless, the outcome was at least decent. The group walked toward the village while bickering, and no one could have foreseen what kind of danger awaited them.

The cover of night is the best shroud for slaughter, especially for Kergash.

Looking at the small village illuminated by magical streetlights at the foot of the hill, the Dark-Relief Chieftain wore a bloodthirsty smile: "These foolish elves, to think they can sleep so soundly under such weak protection, heh... Remember, Tregra, don't let a single one go."

"Of course." Stroking the sharp edge of his battle-axe, the Amani troll slowly straightened his body: "Boys, you can have your fill today."

"Kill them all!" Tregra chopped down a nearby tree trunk with his axe, let out a high-pitched war cry, and turned into a green bolt of lightning that tore through the night, charging first toward the peaceful and cozy village.

"Taz'dingo!"

Over a dozen forest trolls roared in unison, and blood and screams instantly descended upon this remote elven village.

On the other side, Lanlos was getting annoyed by the persistent questioning from Sores and his partner: "You two really are a pair, aren't you? Why are you both so interested in these trivial things? If you ask me, what you need to worry about now is when you're getting married and how you're going to raise kids..."

Hearing this, Ilana's cheeks instantly flushed red. She lowered her head without a word, but her grip on Sores's arm tightened, a sweetness that made others quite envious. As for the latter, his skin, thick enough to be made into a bulletproof vest, naturally wouldn't feel shy.

"Ah haha, no rush, we have a long life ahead of us..." Before he could finish, Sores jumped up as if someone had stepped on his tail: "Ouch! Why are you pinching me?"

"Shameless..." Ilana glanced at Lanlos, who was riding the chocobo, seemingly ashamed to discuss such topics in front of an outsider, and buried her head directly into Sores's chest.

Damn, those who show off their love die quickly...

Rolling his eyes to the heavens, Lanlos pretended to see nothing, half-lying on the bird's back, preparing to close his eyes for a nap.

"Kaw! Kaw-kaw!" The chocobo suddenly stopped, its high-pitched, sharp, and urgent cry sounding incredibly jarring.

Almost simultaneously, Sores stopped his whispering with Ilana, looking ahead with a solemn expression, as did the elven youth.

In the distant night sky, scarlet firelight illuminated the horizon...

"Too weak! Truly too weak!" Wielding two hand-axes, Tregra seemed to have transformed into the god of death, leaving behind afterimages in the militia's encirclement. Every time he swept past an enemy, blood would splash high into the air.

This was a one-sided battle! It was a massacre!

The Golden Branch Village militia usually only dealt with driving away murlocs, and even a level-two shaman would require assistance; facing these elite Amani warriors, they had no chance of winning!

More importantly, there were Kergash and his warlock.

"Quick! Notify the village chief, we need to retreat immediately..."

Puchi!

Before the messenger could finish his sentence, an exquisite standard-issue longsword pierced his chest. Looking at the familiar patterns on it, he fell into the blood-stained mud with disbelief and shock.

Beside him, Nicole pulled out his blade with an expressionless face.

"Yes, that's it, hee hee." Behind him, the dim light blurred, and Alisa's graceful figure quickly emerged. Her petite arms wrapped around the veteran's waist, her hot breath blowing against his ear: "You are a warrior, not a babysitter for these old, weak, and disabled... Anger, use this flame to burn everything to ash..."

Charm. Relying on her extraordinary charisma, Alisa took the only combat force in Golden Branch Village that could resist the trolls into her pocket. Under her instigation, this stern and responsible militia captain swung his butcher's knife at his own kin.

"Yes, right here, Nar smells it, fel energy, a different kind of soul..." An imp shouted continuously toward the tower-like building ahead, so excited he almost threw the fireball in his hand.

Behind him, a hunched troll stepped out of the shadows.

Kergash stretched out his withered palm, and as obscure, low demonic incantations were chanted from his mouth, chaotic and evil energy quickly gathered in front of him.

The energy twisted and swirled in front of him, forming a vortex in the blink of an eye, a mix of green and black that gave the illusion of filth: "Go, find them, I want them alive."

"Roar!" A soul-shaking howl erupted from the portal, followed immediately by a blur of black shadow.

A dog? No! It was a Felhound!

Its rough, lava-like skin was covered in black barbs, and a maw filled with jagged teeth took up nearly a third of its body. Massive horns and tentacles protruded above its dangerous, crimson eyes. How does one describe such an ugly monster? One look is enough to not only terrify children but send most spellcasters fleeing for their lives.

This is because the Felhound's tentacles are not merely for show; they can devour magic and burn the mana within a caster's body. The more powerful the mage, the more devastating the damage.

Soon, the hound that had burst through the door clamped its jaws onto one of Fergus's lower legs, dragging him toward Kergash and leaving a trail of blood across the floor. Surprisingly, the old man did not let out a single wail.

"Is it him?" Kergash glanced at the white-haired old man and asked the imp at his feet.

The long-eared little monster hopped over to Fergus. After a brief silence, it shook its head immediately: "No, Nar is certain. The old man in front of Nar is not Master's target."

"Then keep looking!" The entire village was engulfed in a sea of flames, yet the most crucial piece of the plan remained unfound. Kergash felt his irritation and unease growing.

"Beast!" Blood gushed from the gruesome wound on his leg. Fergus, lying nearly prone in a pool of blood, struggled to rise, his eyes fixed on Kergash with a gaze so hateful it was bone-chilling.

However, that was not what piqued the latter's interest. This old man actually knew how to speak Troll?

"Interesting. From what I understand, you elves consider yourselves too noble to ever learn the knowledge of the Trolls." Kergash revealed a faint smile and slowly approached the fading old man. "What? Does it not disgust you?"

"Only by understanding the enemy can one defeat them. You monsters will never be able to comprehend the noble Quel'dorei!" It was hard to imagine that the once kind-hearted old man could wear such a ferocious expression. If looks could kill, Kergash would undoubtedly be riddled with holes by now.

Unfortunately, that was merely a delusion...

"Heh, I have truly been taught a lesson. But it is a pity that the understanding you speak of is nothing more than skin-deep." The demonic servant seemed to have made a discovery and began shouting and clamoring about the room. Kergash stopped paying attention to the old man and turned to leave. "You should be grateful that I have no interest in the taste of old men."

Hiss!

The hound that had just been summoned appeared once more before Fergus, its terrifying maw dripping with disgusting saliva.

"But it is different; it is not a picky eater..."

"Ah-!"