Kin?
Not an Elf—but a human?
Was he… a human transformed into an Elf?
Could some forbidden magic or drug have done this? Was there a mastermind behind it?
In an instant, Roland was swept into a whirlwind of thoughts.
But that split-second hesitation cost him. The middle-aged man, barely past forty, flipped up and slammed a kick straight into Roland’s abdomen.
Luckily, in human form, the man had almost no strength left.
At the last moment, Roland crossed his sword to block—only to be flung back several meters. Sasha, standing behind him, caught him without delay.
“So it works.”
The man twisted into a sinister grin. His eyes burned crimson; his body swelled violently once more.
He transformed again into that towering Elf.
What *is* this?
Is he a human turned Elf… or an Elf disguised as human?
This one must be captured.
Once Roland decided, he committed fully.
He dropped into a low stance. Sasha stood opposite, eyes locked, poised to strike.
"ROAR!!!"
With a frenzied bellow, the Elf charged.
Roland’s gaze never wavered. Sasha moved first.
Their fists met—like an egg against stone.
Yet the result? Two of the male Elf’s fingers shattered on impact.
It stumbled back steps. Sasha didn’t budge.
A mountain of an Elf, unable to shake her tiny frame.
The gap wasn’t size—it was quality.
At that moment, a shadow brushed past Sasha and *shot* toward the Elf.
Still dazed from Sasha’s blow, panic-stricken, the Elf swung wildly.
Deprived of judgment, it was mere fish on a chopping block before Roland’s shadow.
Then—Roland’s second signature technique bloomed.
[Lunar God Style]
Crescent Slash!
Slender crescent lights flared across the Elf’s arms.
Blood sprayed.
The remaining fist flew past Roland’s side.
Its legs severed, the Elf collapsed, unable to rise.
"…"
Roland let out a slight breath and sheathed his blade.
Five slashes made the Crescent Slash. This Elf couldn’t dodge even one—truly a sitting duck. Earlier, during its berserk state, the scalding blood and upwind position had blocked Roland from chaining techniques, causing the stalemate.
All in all…
Though this Elf was the Spirit Mother’s Elf King,
both the Spirit Mother and her Elves were low-tier. To Roland? Pure appetizer.
Still…
Even such powerless foes
had killed right under his eyes.
Proof: the enemy was weak, but he wasn’t strong enough to protect everyone.
He still had a long road ahead.
This was Master Gudao’s teaching.
After showing Roland how to survive with Sasha, the master vanished—leaving only a note: *“Traveling the four seas.”* Five years had passed. No trace since.
…
The train screeched to an emergency halt at the next station.
Naturally—casualties and a mysterious monster demanded investigation by the Blackstream Kingdom.
But when passengers fled in panic and the demon-hunting squad arrived, the train roof stood empty. Only a wide bloodstain testified to the recent battle.
“What happened?” the lead investigator demanded.
A squad member who’d interviewed witnesses reported promptly:
“Eyewitnesses describe a silver-haired youth of striking beauty, seemingly sixteen or seventeen, claiming to be a Second-tier Executor of the Spirit Eradication Corps. He fought the giant monster atop the train for over five minutes. A petite, cloaked follower accompanied him.”
“A Second-tier Executor? The youngest recorded was nineteen. What a tall tale,” the captain muttered, half-amused.
Just then, an analyst rushed over:
“Captain Jamie, blood analysis confirms scalding blood from a low-tier combat Elf. Verified berserker transformation and severe injuries.”
He paused.
“Further assessment suggests… this was the Elf King of the attribute-less Spirit Mother system.”
"…"
Captain Jamie stroked his unshaven chin—rushed out that morning, no time to shave.
Murmuring to himself:
“An Elf King means massive size. Search the route for remains or blood trails.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And get a rough description of the youth’s appearance. Even if he impersonated the Corps… we owe him thanks.”
“Yes, sir!”
…
…
Spatial Storage Ring.
A convenient accessory storing objects in extra-dimensional space. Since this technology emerged, travelers go weaponless without fear—even asleep. Transport costs plummeted. Exceptions? Oversized items… or *living creatures*.
Indeed—living beings cannot enter. The space is static storage. Attempting insertion triggers the ring’s barrier, repelling the creature instantly. Force it? The ring shatters. Internal space collapses. All contents vanish forever into another dimension.
To avoid tragedy,
Roland severed the Elf’s head and tossed the body into the ring.
As expected—the Elf King’s vitality clung on. Even headless, it lingered.
Wrapped tightly in cotton cloth, Sasha slung the half-meter head across her back like a woven basket. Why didn’t Roland carry it? No explanation needed.
Blessed with Spirit Power, Sasha could shoulder two Elf King corpses and run three days straight without breaking a sweat.
Roland? His swordsmanship shone, but his body was just a trained youth’s. Without sword aura and spiritual energy shielding him, one punch from the Elf King would’ve crushed him to pulp.
After four days and three nights winding through mountain paths,
they crossed the Blackstream Kingdom’s border—arriving at Lis Empire, one of the inner circle’s greatest territories.
