Chapter 139: The Fleeing Elves
Messer took a badge made by Donald, examined it mentally, and said approvingly to his disciple, “This is quite well-made. I didn’t expect you to be able to replicate the magic arrays from silver moon coins and magic coins so quickly!” Donald shook his head and said, “It’s not yet perfect. I originally planned to create replica spellbooks used by ancient mages, but due to a lack of references, I could only craft these three badges. After use, they need to be recharged, which is far less convenient than spellbooks.”
Messer smiled and said, “That’s already quite remarkable. How long have you been studying alchemy? It’s good for young people to be humble, but being overly humble isn’t good!” Donald nodded in agreement and took out a few pieces of equipment, putting them on one by one.
Although Ferdinand wasn’t optimistic about Donald’s plan, he still couldn’t refuse to help, so he was also preparing himself, hoping to be of assistance at a critical moment. If things really turned dangerous, he would use the secret techniques from his family’s swordmaster heritage. Ferdinand believed he could exert the strength of a silver-level beginner and should be able to handle three or five wolf riders without trouble.
By this time, the group of fugitives ahead had already been chased down by a squad of orc wolf riders. Knowing how ferocious those riders were, they left a few tall companions behind to hold off the pursuers while the rest continued to flee.
The companions left behind, armed with nothing, all roared in unison, suddenly growing three times larger before charging at the wolf riders wielding scimitars with their bare hands. It seemed to be a power similar to bloodthirst magic, designed to boost strength, but it likely wouldn’t last long. To Donald’s surprise, the wolf riders seemed to fear those fists and didn’t dare to confront them head-on, instead using their scimitars to defend.
Though these few individuals were quite strong, each possessing at least bronze-level high-tier strength and far outpacing the wolf riders, those riders weren’t fighting alone—their wolf mounts also had the strength of level-four magical beasts. Under such double pressure, those few defenders probably wouldn’t last long, but it was still worth it to allow their companions ahead to escape.
The wolf riders weren’t just that many—soon, more of them arrived one after another. Those cunning wolf riders didn’t join their companions in attacking those few people instead; they all roared and charged toward the crowd ahead. The few who were holding back desperately tried to stop them, but to no avail. Seeing this, they clearly felt desperate.
When they saw the wolf riders approaching from behind, a few of the people there waved wooden staffs in the air, summoning green vines from the soil in an attempt to block the wolf riders’ advance. However, these vines weren’t very powerful and only caused slight hindrance, being quickly cut apart by the wolf riders.
At this point, those people saw Donald and the other two ahead of them and, like drowning people grasping at a straw, ran toward them with a glimmer of hope. As the distance shortened, Donald sensed a familiar aura about them. But with the situation so urgent, he had no time to think further. He said, “We mean no harm—orcs are the enemies!” To his surprise, those people didn’t react at all, leaving him puzzled.
But orcs still had to be killed. All these wolf riders would serve as a source of Soul Power for him.
“Natural forces…”
It wasn’t until one of them spoke in Old Elvish that Donald realized they couldn’t understand common human languages, revealing their true identities.
But the battle had already begun, and those behind them wouldn’t last much longer. There was no time for conversation, so Donald set aside his doubts, left the teacher and Kelsas with the others, and immediately took off toward those holding back.
“Be careful!”
Reaching above those people, Donald shouted in Old Elvish. Those who appeared to be battle-hardened warriors, though severely injured, struck fiercely at their enemies upon hearing the warning from above and retreated.
At the same time, three consecutive Frost Nova spells were unleashed on those wolf riders. No matter how cunning or ferocious they were, they were only at the beginning stage of Bronze rank on average. While they could be strong when working together, their resistance was still insufficient against Donald’s innate magical attacks.
Several almost instant Wind Arrows dealt the final blow to the wolf riders and their wolf mounts, which had lost their ability to resist due to freezing. Fragments of Soul Balls on their bodies automatically absorbed their soul power after death.
After finishing these tasks, Donald tossed a few bottles of life potion to those men before flying toward the other wolf riders. After dealing with three isolated wolf riders, the cunning orcs sensed something was wrong and gathered back toward their main force. Donald had no choice but to return to where he started to reunite with his mentor and the others. Upon returning, he saw his mentor Maelthor and Kelthas standing flanking a group of dozens of people. The few who had been left behind earlier had also caught up with the main force by then, taken the life potions to recover from their injuries, and were ready to fight again. No fewer than forty orc wolf riders gathered before them, but none of these ferocious orcs dared charge forward. Many wolf riders tried to flank from other directions in an attempt to launch a surprise attack, but anyone who got within twenty steps was killed or driven back by the spells of the two mages. Ferdinand, the swordsman, had no chance to use his skills and could only stand guard between the two mages. Under the intimidation of a high-level silver mage and a bronze mage with near-silver strength, the orcs dared not act rashly and instead scattered to surround them. When Donald appeared in the air, several wolf riders saw an opportunity and drew the short spears from their backs, throwing them at him. Donald paid no attention to such attacks; he dodged most of them skillfully, and for those he couldn’t avoid, he used his rarely employed weapon, the Moonblade, to shoot down the incoming spears one by one. Such attacks might be dangerous against weaker mages, but for someone who inherited the skills of a Demon Hunter, they were utterly insignificant. Soon after landing among his mentor and the others, Donald noticed that many of them had removed their cloaks, revealing their handsome appearances and features different from ordinary humans. Their pointed ears and green-brown hair confirmed their identity—they were indeed elves. Half of them were children and young elves, with fewer than twenty strong adult elf warriors, most of whom were injured. No wonder, despite the elves’ natural prowess, they were being chased and hunted by dozens of wolf riders in such a dire situation. It was said that elves could often be seen along the warm southern coasts of the continent, but the harsh climate in the north made it too cold for them, so none had visited in hundreds of years. Especially after the division of the High Elf Empire and the elves’ complete withdrawal from the role of continent rulers, even the resilient elf warriors rarely came to the northern regions of the continent.
However, though Donald had doubts, they were near orc territory. Despite their strength, they couldn’t stay long—it was better to resolve the problem quickly and leave. So Donald said outright, “Ferdinand, when the battle starts, you’re responsible for protecting these elves. Master and Kelsas, you two come with me and fight to the best of our ability!” Maelthor and Kelsas nodded in understanding. Ferdinand asked worriedly, “Are you sure?” “Don’t worry! I’m not even afraid of those wolf riders. I’ll save these elves today! Let’s go!” With that, Donald waved his hand and charged ahead at the group of orcs closest to them. Before he could get halfway there, a dazzling, massive bolt of lightning struck the lead wolf riders. At the same time, the two mages, Kelsas and Maelthor, targeted their own enemies and cast their spells. Although the School of Transformation wasn’t great at group attacks, the old mage had spent many years in the field of magic and thus mastered many spells from other schools as well. His first spell was Fireball, the most powerful among level three spells, with a wide attack range. Right after that, he unleashed Flame Burst without pause. Though neither spell was particularly advanced, in the hands of a Silver Mage, they exerted far greater power than those of a Bronze Mage. More than a dozen wolf riders were severely damaged—many were left crippled if not dead. On Kelsas’s end, his first spell was Flaming Strike, his signature move. An invisible flame matrix immediately trapped seven or eight wolf riders and their wolves in a fiery trap. Before the screams of the orcs and wolves could cease, Kelsas recited a mysterious incantation, and a sphere of crimson flame appeared before him out of thin air. After changing shape several times over a few seconds, it suddenly exploded violently, sending sparks flying. Before everyone’s eyes appeared a magnificent bird made of flame—this was the ultimate spell of a Blood Mage: the Fire Phoenix. Kelsas had only learned the spells of this world’s mages for a short time, so he couldn’t master those highly advanced spells yet. In actual combat, he relied mainly on his own heroic abilities. This Fire Phoenix was currently at the level of a level five magical beast, but as a fire elemental, its combat power far exceeded that of the best level five magical beasts, even approaching that of a Golden Sacred Beast. It could confront ordinary level six or seven magical beasts head-on.
The so-called sacred beasts generally refer to magical beasts that have reached the golden level. Such beasts possess intelligence on par with or even exceeding that of humans, and due to their racial advantages, they are even more powerful than ordinary golden-level warriors. However, there are also some inherently powerful races that are called sacred beasts, as they, like humans and elves, are born as high-intelligence races—such as the dragon race. These mighty fire phoenixes leave almost no opponents for those wolf riders; just a few bursts of their scorching flames can kill a wolf rider along with its mount. As for Donald, lightning magic is considered one of the most powerful and difficult-to-master spells due to its speed, with attack power being a secondary factor. Unless they react in advance, even golden-level warriors cannot dodge it. Naturally, those wolf riders lack such ability. The first wolf rider was instantly turned to charcoal upon being struck by lightning, and the orcs around it also suffered from the chain reactions. A single bolt of lightning jumped seven times, killing two wolf riders and their mounts, and injuring five more before dissipating. Unfortunately, these cunning and ferocious wolf riders are much smarter than the orcs from the last time. Their formation is loose; if they had gathered together, a powerful tornado storm could have wiped them out all at once. After casting spells one by one, Donald found this unsatisfying, so he suddenly used teleportation to appear among the wolf riders, activated the magic shield from his bronze family emblem, swung his moon blades like wheels, ignited the Fire of Sacrifice, with green flames burning on his body, and charged at the wolf riders around him.