Chapter 51: Logue Elken and the Misty Path

Aric, fully engrossed in treating the Old Man, suddenly felt a cold gust of wind. He looked up in confusion, meeting the Orc’s gaze directly.

Narrowing his eyes, Aric instantly raised his left hand, aiming it at the charging Orc.

“Spirits of nature, protect!”

An ethereal chant echoed across the high platform, and a vibrant emerald green light began to glow.

Ding!

A crisp clang resonated.

A faint green barrier had materialized, completely blocking the Orc’s assault.

The Orc frowned, letting out a low growl. Despite exerting more force, the barrier showed not even a crack.

“You, over there! Help me!” After several furious blows failed to shatter the barrier, or even create a single seam, the Orc spun around. He roared at the Elf who stood observing from a distance, arms crossed.

“Hmph.” The Elf scoffed, lowering his arms as he casually strode forward.

He halted ten meters from the Orc and the barrier.

Extending his hands, he conjured a phantom grip. Dark green light shimmered, and a wooden bow along with a long arrow wreathed in dark green flames materialized.

Clutching the bowstring, the Elf slowly drew the arrow back.

Aiming with his single eye, the Elf abruptly released his grip.

The Orc, initially believing the Elf was coming to help, had turned back to continue his assault with both claws. However, a sudden chill rising from behind prompted him to immediately lunge aside.

The arrow struck the barrier with a dull thud.

“Bastard, are you trying to kill me?” The Orc rose from the ground, glaring at the Elf who was already nocking another arrow.

The Elf paid him no mind. After aiming at the exact spot of his previous shot, he fired another long arrow wreathed in dark green flames.

Before the first arrow even reached the barrier, the Elf swiftly unleashed three more in quick succession, each striking the precise location of the initial impact.

With a series of sharp clangs, the barrier, which the Orc could not breach, shattered into fragments.

Aric watched, wide-eyed, as the barrier fractured and dissipated into particles of light. He frantically channeled the magic energy within him, converting it into healing energy and injecting it into the Old Man.

“Tch.” The Orc fell silent for a moment before standing. “Let’s see if you can block me this time.”

Conjuring a cleaver forged from ice, the Orc advanced coldly towards Aric.

Watching both the Orc and the Elf approach him, Aric cast an anxious glance at the Old Man.

‘Hurry! Hurry!’

Just as the Elf and Orc closed to within a meter of Aric, he abruptly stood up.

Cold sweat beaded on Aric’s forehead as he raised his clenched hands, brilliant green energy swirling around him.

“Young man, don’t make this difficult for me,” the one-eyed Elf said, pointing a finger at Aric with a faint, airy tone.

Aric remained silent.

“Then… my apologies, kinsman.”

With that, the Elf raised the hand holding his wooden bow, conjured an arrow, drew the string, and fired.

As the spinning arrow hurtled towards him, Aric pressed his palms together.

“Elf’s Elegy, Withered Vines!”

Thick, dark brown vines burst forth from the ground, growing rapidly and effortlessly intercepting the swiftly flying arrow.

“Heh, trash.”

The Orc sneered, then raised his hands to trace a triangular magic circle before him.

Passing through the formation, the Orc transformed into a solitary, proud black wolf, rushing towards Aric.

Roar!

Saliva dripping from its jowls, the black wolf opened its gaping maw, ready to bite Aric.

Seeing the black wolf half a meter away, Aric made a phantom grip with his hands, controlling the withered vines to coil around the beast.

Wrapped around its waist, the black wolf struggled, emitting a low growl of fury.

Before Aric could even exhale in relief, the one-eyed Elf, his hands wreathed in dark green flames, rushed forward.

Aric had no time to react. Just as the Elf was about to strike him, the Old Man, who had been lying prostrate on the ground, suddenly rose and extended his hands.

“Black Mist Enshroud!”

Ominous whispers echoed as inky black mist erupted from the Old Man’s hands, swiftly encasing the nearby one-eyed Elf in layers.

From within the black mist, the one-eyed Elf let out a horrific shriek.

Unable to discern what was happening inside, Aric furrowed his brows and looked at the panting Old Man beside him.

“What happened in the black mist? What about the Elf?”

As a race that loved peace and abhorred torturing enemies, he disliked seeing anyone tormented, let alone a kinsman—even if that kinsman had just tried to kill him.

“He’ll be fine, young man. And thank you for saving this old life of mine.”

The Old Man, leaning on his knees and breathing heavily, waved a dismissive hand.

It had been too long since he’d used magic energy; it had nearly claimed his life.

Aric pondered for a moment, deciding not to press further about the Elf in the black mist. While he was kind, he was not foolish.

“Do you know how to leave this place?”

Controlling the withered vines to pull the black wolf further away and then completely envelop it, Aric began to ask the Old Man the question that weighed most heavily on his mind.

“Leave? Ah, yes, we must leave here.”

The Old Man murmured, his eyes distant.

‘Yes, I must leave. If the Church discovers I’m not dead, they’ll surely send someone again. And then, it might even be Leimor who uses his methods…’

‘I must leave, leave this sorrowful place.’

‘…Perhaps this is heaven’s forgiveness for me!’

Recalling his actions while serving the Church, the Old Man’s eyes grew slightly red. He had finally awakened, but it was too late.

Biting his parched lips, the Old Man looked at Aric.

“What’s wrong, Old Man?” Aric, bewildered by the Old Man’s tearful gratitude, asked.

‘Perhaps he’s just overwhelmed by surviving death…’

Aric thought to himself.

“What is your name?”

Hearing the Old Man’s question, Aric snapped back to attention.

“Aric, Old Man. And you?”

Scratching the back of his head, Aric replied.

“My name… it’s been so long, I seem to have forgotten it myself.”

The Old Man’s gaze was filled with reminiscence. Ever since he had sacrificed his loved ones and the world to the god he worshipped, it had been an eternity since he mentioned his own name to anyone.

‘After all, my name had become merely a codename given by the Church…’

After a moment of silence, the Old Man tremblingly spoke his name.

“Logue, Logue Elken. Heh, heheh, hahaha! Logue Elken! I remember it! My name! Hahahaha!”

‘How long has it been? How long since I last spoke my name to anyone? Centuries, perhaps. To think I’d have the chance in this plane. I regret it now, Father, Mother, everyone. But would you ever forgive me?’

As he recalled their wide, staring eyes before him, Logue’s blood-red tears began to stream from his eyes.

“Huh? Mr. Logue, what’s wrong?”

Seeing Logue in such a state, Aric flailed his hands, a panicked expression on his face.

“I… I’m fine. It’s just, ah… never mind. It’s nothing. I’ll take you away from this place!”

Logue sighed heavily. Without waiting for Aric’s reply, he firmly grasped his hands.

“Mist Teleportation!”

A magic circle, formed by overlapping pentagrams, appeared beneath Logue’s feet, and tendrils of black mist began to seep out.

Soon, the black mist intensified into a dense fog, enveloping both Aric and Logue.

When the black mist dispersed, they were gone.

****

A biting wind swept across the land. A thick black mist abruptly appeared, only to be immediately whisked away by the icy gusts.

“Ah-choo!” Aric sneezed, wrapping his arms around himself. “Where are we? Why is it so cold?”

“Where else could we be?”

Logue chuckled softly, then pulled a blanket from his spatial pouch and draped it over Aric.

Feeling a touch of warmth, Aric finally surveyed his surroundings.

There was nothing but a pristine expanse of white snow.

“We are now at the very top of that mine shaft.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, Logue spoke to Aric with unhurried calm.

“Is that so?” Aric mumbled. “Whatever. At least we’re out of that dreadful place, even if it is the very top.”

“All right, follow me. We need to find a place to stay for now.”

Shaking his head, Logue’s wrinkled old face stretched into a faint smile.

“Where are we going?” Aric followed closely, asking.

“A pocket dimension I created.”

‘It was originally meant to withstand dimensional rejection after a failed mission. Yet, in the end, I’m using it to evade the Church. Truly, life is full of unpredictable turns!’

Logue replied to Aric, then mused silently to himself.

📚 Also on NHV Novels

Desert Island Romance

Boys LoveComedyModern Setting

Read Now →
Not interested