Chapter 5: The Immortal Half-Elf

Upon noticing the half-elf captain’s attempt to flee, Nina promptly spearheaded a pursuit team.

However, war wolves were some of the forest’s swiftest inhabitants. By the time her team arrived on the scene, Kleine had already broken free from their grasp. For some unexplained reason, he paused momentarily just outside the village before swiftly disappearing into the woods, eluding their chase.

The Moon Maiden furrowed slightly. She was acutely aware of the bounty on her head among the elves and understood the implications of Kleine’s successful escape. This mountain region had always been a potential base sought after by the resistance she led. It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that her impromptu visit had not brought the promised liberation and freedom. Instead, it might result in a catastrophe for the village, much like the one they stood upon.

Turning to the wolf warriors beside her, she commanded, “We must end this battle quickly and evacuate the nearby villages.”

“Teresa is dead. And we haven’t found Elisa and the children,” an elder wolfman warrior said anxiously. “Neither have we found their bodies.”

“They must be nearby,” Nina assured him. “Elder Ori, stay calm. These beasts typically spare the young girls, treating them as merchandise. They’re surely alive.”

As the battle intensified, with Kleine’s escape, the mastiffmen’s strategy seemed less about survival and more about pulling as many wolfmen into the abyss as possible. The wolfmen, momentarily unprepared for this tactic and disadvantaged by their equipment, bore significant casualties. Yet, Nina promptly grasped the situation, guiding them to repel the mastiffmen’s frantic attacks using their spears and to eliminate them with javelins and arrows.

The battle continued unabated. However, once Kleine made his successful escape, the actions of the mastiffmen shifted in nature. They were determined to pull as many wolfmen as possible into death’s embrace. Caught off guard by this change in momentum and handicapped by their lesser equipment, the wolfmen sustained significant losses. Yet, Nina quickly discerned the situation, strategically commanding them to use their long spears to block the mastiffmen’s frenzied assaults, while methodically taking them down with javelins and arrows.

It wasn’t until over an hour later that the last of the mastiffmen finally fell. None surrendered, and the wolfmen took no prisoners.

The Empire’s protocol for any who rebelled or dissented was unequivocal execution. The nature of their demise varied–hanged, beheaded, or forced to become gladiators. Precisely because of this, the resistance had to adopt similarly harsh measures to prevent potential disasters from befalling their villages. This grim standoff between the Empire and the resistance had persisted for over a century.

“We’ve found them!”

After Nina beheaded the last of the mastiffmen with her greatsword, jubilant shouts echoed from a nearby slope. Several young wolfwomen appeared on the hillside, bringing a collective sigh of relief to the wolfmen.

They gathered here to fight, primarily to avenge the innocent villagers who had been killed, but also to rescue them. Although many had braced themselves for the sight of their bloodied corpses, seeing them alive and well was a cause for celebration among all the wolfkin.

The armor and weapons of the fallen mastiffmen were carefully stripped off to be refurbished and repurposed as equipment for the resistance. Their corpses were gathered and placed inside a few houses. The wolfmen then toppled the structures and ignited a roaring fire.

“Sister Nina!” The young wolfwomen, who had narrowly escaped death, joyfully ran toward her.

Nina tenderly comforted each of them and asked with a touch of puzzlement in her voice, “How did you escape?”

“It was an unusual half-elf. He saved us. But he…” Tears glistened in the eyes of the wolf-girls as they continued, “Aunt Teresa… she’s gone…”

***

Meanwhile, although Wu Qingsong escaped from the grip of the war wolf, he quickly found himself in a more perilous predicament. Kleine was prodding him with his rapier, testing various points on his body.

“What the hell do you want with me?” Evading the thrusts, Wu Qingsong shouted, “Are you deranged?”

His recently awakened abilities gave him newfound confidence and ideas for the path ahead, but the reality was cruel. While he might not be harmed, he was still too weak at the moment. Facing a formidable opponent like Kleine, he was like meat on a chopping board, and the enemy had countless ways to make him wish he were dead.

Unable to avoid Kleine’s nimble footwork and swordsmanship, no matter how he tried to flee or defend, he was subjected to relentless, ferocious stabs. Finally, he just lay flat on the ground, forming the Chinese character ‘大’, and yelled defiantly, “Come at me, you sadist! If you have the guts, just kill me! Hahaha! What’s the worst you can do? Give it your best shot!”

“What principle is this? The Stone-skin Solidification Spell?” Kleine, however, completely ignored his insult, persistently poking with his sword. “No, it’s not the Stone-skin spell, your skin still retains its elasticity. Just who exactly are you?” His expression suddenly turned grave.

Although there was a significant difference between him and a true elf, he had always held the utmost confidence in his swordsmanship. Without relying on magic, he believed he wasn’t much inferior to an average magic swordsman. This gift, bestowed upon him by the elven bloodline within him, was a result of the rigorous training he had started in his childhood.

In fact, had he not resembled a true elf so closely, which led to resentment and ostracization by most half-elves, and had he not rejected becoming a plaything for female elves, he was certain his achievements would’ve extended beyond being just a mere squad captain.

The sword he wielded hailed from the imperial capital Padamia, a masterwork in its own right. Though not an expensive magical weapon, its sheer destructive power placed it at the pinnacle of such arms.

Yet, even the combination of his skill and the blade couldn’t inflict any substantive harm on Wu Qingsong. What baffled Kleine, even more, was that Wu Qingsong’s pained reactions were authentic.

There was no magical resonance or fluctuation when Wu Qingsong was attacked. It seemed that the damage wasn’t nullified by magic. It genuinely hurt him, but just couldn’t penetrate his skin and flesh or yield the expected consequences.

However, Wu Qingsong erupted into uproarious laughter, “Kneel and beg me. You rabbit that’s been poked by thousands!*”

Kleine’s expression tightened. He couldn’t grasp the essence of the insult but sensed it was derogatory.

The man in front was clearly uncooperative, leaving Kleine to deduce the answers on his own.

Quickly, Kleine deduced the most logical conclusion based on his understanding. Wu Qingsong was a product of advanced alchemy, or perhaps the result of a magical experiment.

In the empire, elves held a monopoly over all magical assets. Given this, it was indisputable that the individual capable of forging such an invulnerable half-elf had to be a powerful mage. And such elves were typically the stalwarts of the empire.

They might not necessarily be inclined to assume a specific position within a duchy, nor shoulder the responsibilities and obligations of the nobility. However, they would undoubtedly be among the highest ranks of the empire’s elite.

At the very least similar to a Grand Duke, and possibly even a Prince.

So Kleine deduced.

Such an illogical yet evidently highly practical alchemical creation might even touch upon some of the empire’s secrets.

Kleine knew well that although elves enjoyed extraordinarily long lives, there were still powerful mages tirelessly pursuing the secret of eternal life. Their experimental subjects were often half-elves, those with elvish blood but considered impure. Many half-elves were purposefully bred for such pursuits, forced into a myriad of experiments. The half-elf before him was likely a product of one such experiment.

Setting aside this speculation, an alchemical procedure that shields elves from any significant harm would undeniably be a groundbreaking discovery for their kind. Such an invention shouldn’t have emerged in a rugged frontier like the Tecks Mountains.

Was he deliberately set free by his creators for some ulterior motive? Or did he manage to escape?

If it was the former, it would be prudent for Kleine to keep his distance from this half-elf. However, if the latter was true, it would present an unmatched opportunity.

Almost all high-class elves lived in the capital Padamia, dubbed the Abode of Gods. They rarely ventured out unless there was a significant reason. Only those of a younger generation, still filled with wonder and yearning about the world, occasionally wander through it.

Kleine was fortunate enough to have met the era’s most distinguished elf, the Grand Duke Sentalus. Being just two hundred years old, he was relatively youthful among his duke peers. He had reached a stage where he found the world’s everyday operations tedious, adopting a more cynical and nonconformist attitude. This very sentiment led him to harbor a peculiar interest in women from different races.

Serving such a volatile lord was undoubtedly challenging. Thus, Kleine never once considered becoming his personal attendant or a direct subordinate.

If Kleine had an opportunity to forge even the slightest connection with a powerful mage–say, fortuitously helping him retrieve a lost item and receiving a simple token of appreciation in return–it would undoubtedly benefit him for the rest of his days.

He intently studied Wu Qingsong’s face, searching for any subtle hint that could help him decide his next move. After a moment’s contemplation, he sheathed his sword, took a rope from beside the war wolf’s saddle, and approached Wu Qingsong once more.

Wu Qingsong feigned struggling. Just as Kleine was about to wrap the rope around his arm, Wu Qingsong suddenly launched an attack, aiming his dagger straight for Kleine’s throat. 

This was the exact tactic he’d used to kill the mastiff soldier named Horner.

However, Kleine was no careless mastiffman. He swiftly grabbed Wu Qingsong’s wrist and kicked him in the abdomen, sending him into the air. But because his wrist was still held, Wu Qingsong abruptly halted mid-air and then crash-landed hard onto the ground.

The impact felt as though it had rearranged all of Wu Qingsong’s internal organs, but Kleine’s onslaught was far from over. With his left hand securely holding Wu Qingsong’s right wrist, Kleine used his other limbs to subject Wu Qingsong to a rigorous lesson in military hand-to-hand combat.

This relentless battering went on for half an hour. By the time Kleine finally stopped, Wu Qingsong, despite appearing undamaged, was in such pain that tears and snot streamed down his face. Yet, he burst into louder laughter.

“Old man, are you tired? If not, bring it on again.”

“Stop trying to provoke me. Even if you don’t get hurt, I have plenty of ways to deal with you.”

Facing such a peculiar individual, Kleine was somewhat exasperated. From the expression of this half-elf, it was evident that the beating was no trivial matter to him. However, he kept hurling insults, utterly shattering Kleine’s worldview. 

“If you keep running your mouth, I’ll gag you with a sock.”

This threat finally silenced Wu Qingsong. In reality, he was drained from his tirade. He wasn’t the legendary Lord Wei, who had turned cursing into an art. With his limited repertoire of insults, even he had started to find them tedious.

His body had numbed from the overwhelming pain. Thankfully, no matter how intense the pain, it never lingered for too long. Otherwise, he truly doubted whether he could endure without succumbing.

A beating was one thing, but a stinky sock… A wise man knows when to pick his battles.

Kleine observed him momentarily and felt a slight relief upon seeing him finally quiet down.

However, to be on the safe side, Kleine securely bound Wu Qingsong with a rope, gagged his mouth with a piece of fabric from his cloak, wrapped him in a marching blanket, and sped toward Rem City.

It was still daylight when they reached the outskirts of the city. To avoid being seen, Kleine didn’t head directly into the city but instead waited in a nearby forest until nightfall before stealthily taking Wu Qingsong to his residence.

Whatever secret Wu Qingsong harbored, Kleine had no intention of sharing it with anyone.

Just as they stepped inside, a petite figure, holding an oil lamp, rushed to greet them, “Meow~ Master! You’ve returned?”

Kleine paid no attention to her. Instead, with Wu Qingsong in tow, he made his way to the basement. There, he found a cage, a relic from his past when he tamed war wolves. The cage, long abandoned, gave off a pungent musty scent.

With a brief crease in his brow, Kleine opened the hefty iron door and threw Wu Qingsong inside. After securing the cage with thick chains and padlocks, he sternly spoke to the maid, “Speak of this to no one.”

“Meow~ Understood, Master,” the petite maid replied cautiously, her triangular ears flattening against her round head in anxiety, her thin tail swishing nervously behind her.

As Kleine draped a large cloth over the cage, he instructed, “From this day forth, you are forbidden from entering the basement.”

“Understood, Master,” the maid murmured once more in agreement.

Wu Qingsong, still dazed from the forceful shove, could only manage muffled whimpers due to the gag. The fading footsteps above, followed by the resonant sound of the door shutting, were the last things he heard.

His efforts to free himself but to no avail. After a short bout of futile resistance, he resigned himself to sleep.

This damned elf definitely had ulterior motives concerning him. Better to gather his strength now and confront the elf come morning.