Sneak Attack

“Sir, I’m back.”

“How is it? Did you Appraise any information about the other side?”

“My Appraise ability is too low, I could only see the magic inside them, but I found something strange.”

“What’s strange?”

“The pillars of the camp’s walls, plus everything inside the camp, they’re all made of Elf Trees. Those are high-quality trees that only the elf race can cultivate.”

“!!!”

Elf Tree?

Although Cliff didn’t know what exactly an Elf Tree was, he did know about elves!

And Elf Trees could only be cultivated by elves. Thinking of this, cliff gazed from afar at the wooden camp, noticing that everyone there wore hoods, as if deliberately hiding something.

Immediately, cliff shifted his attention back to those ‘potions’.

He uncorked a bottle: a faint magic emanated from within. Examining the pale green liquid, cliff casually summoned a wounded soldier.

“Give it a try.”

Hearing this, the soldier drank the antidote, and the moment the liquid went down his throat, he felt a gentle power helping to heal his wounds.

“My injury doesn’t hurt as much anymore!”

Hearing this, the healer beside them stepped up to check him, saying in shock:

“The plague’s toxin is receding.”

At the healer’s words, cliff was a bit taken aback.

“How can it work so quickly?”

Honestly, he’d never seen an antidote act so fast, and as he witnessed this, flosa suddenly understood.

“I get it now! Since Elf Trees are being cultivated here, that means there’s an elf royal among them. And where there’s an elf royal, there’s definitely a Spring of Life. These potions must be brewed with Spring of Life, and the Spring of Life is a natural nemesis to undead toxins!”

“You’re saying it’s not the antidote that’s effective, but that there’s some ‘Spring of Life’ inside?”

“Correct. And not just the Spring of Life. The Spring of Life comes from a special Elf Tree. As long as those trees are planted, they can ward off most toxins and plagues—a gift from nature to the elves.”

Flosa acted like a child, flaunting his knowledge, but while he spoke without malice, cliff’s eyes glinted coldly—he was now fixated on those towering trees in the distance.

Yet Flosa’s next words cemented Cliff’s idea.

“I didn’t expect elves to be here, and among them, an elf royal! If we bring this news to Annika the mage, he’ll definitely be overjoyed!”

“Annika the mage needs the elf royal?”

“Yes. Though I’m reluctant to admit it, the elves have achieved far more than humans in magic, especially their nature magic—a field humans desperately crave and cannot reach. If there’s an elf royal here capable of cultivating Elf Trees, maybe we could gain some assistance for magic research.”

“I see…”

As Cliff spoke, he glanced down at the antidote, then considered the effects of the Spring of Life and Elf Trees. Looking again at the towering trees around and inside the camp, undisguised greed flared in his eyes.

“Hey, are elf royals powerful?”

“Huh? Not really. Their status is simply determined by bloodline.”

“What about those soldiers on the wooden walls?”

“They’re probably about as strong as our soldiers.”

Flosa answered honestly, but for some reason, he felt the atmosphere was turning ominous.

“I see. That means, the elven tribe before us doesn’t seem very strong. From start to finish, they’ve only tried to hide and avoid us. Annika the mage urgently needs an elf who can cultivate Elf Trees, and we need this resource called ‘Spring of Life’ as military supplies.”

“Uh… Yes, Lord Cliff, are you planning—!!!”

“Heh, ‘finding’ the elf royal could curry favor with Annika the mage—the benefits for us are obvious. And if we could acquire a substantial amount of Spring of Life, it would be very helpful for our current mission to find the source of the undead outbreak.”

As Cliff spoke, the mage beside him had already guessed his intentions.

“Absolutely not, commander Cliff! These elves helped us. We can’t—”

“This is war. Those who are not of our kin are sure to think differently!”

Facing this fresh graduate from Central Magic Academy, cliff felt irritation.

And as a staunch racist, cliff harbored only one attitude toward these ‘ignorant’ and ‘filthy’ non-humans.

“Relay my orders—prepare for battle. Target: the ‘zombie nest’ ahead!”

Cliff’s words immediately made the adjutant understand his true meaning.

This was the territory of the undead outbreak; whatever happened here would stay hidden. Besides, even if word got out, who would challenge the Ailera Empire for the sake of a mere ‘long-eared tribe’?

Tawu Ishihara? Sorry, there had never been a single elf tribe in Tawu Ishihara. From start to finish, the whole camp was lying, and from the way they hid, it was clear—they weren’t anyone else, but elves!

So when Cliff ordered the attack this time, the adjutant did not object.

“Yes, sir!”

The command was relayed. Flosa still wanted to protest.

“Commander Cliff…”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear any more of your nonsense. Just follow orders and prepare for battle. Don’t forget this is the army, not some kids’ game at the magic academy.”

That one sentence shocked Flosa into silence. Cliff no longer paid him any heed.

“Send out the information, then get ready to move!”

After speaking, cliff pulled the adjutant aside and whispered in his ear. The adjutant nodded.

“I understand.”

After receiving orders, the adjutant randomly picked an infected (but untreated) person from the group, leading him to a spot not far in front of the camp, while Cliff quietly circled around with his men…

Seeing two more humans return, Doluka asked,

“You’ve already gotten your medicine—why come back?”

But hearing this, the adjutant snorted coldly.

“Hmph! Despicable outsiders, you actually gave us potions tainted with plague toxins—are you trying to spark a war?!”

“What?”

Doluka was stunned, naively turning to Dolusam beside her.

“Was the Spring of Life tainted by the plague?”

Dolusam was baffled.

“Impossible! The Elf Trees cultivated by Lola purify it. This level of plague toxin couldn’t possibly contaminate the Spring of Life, and we’ve been using it ourselves—with no problems.”

Doluka, equally flustered, called out to the human outside the camp.

“We’ve checked. There’s no plague toxin in the potion. If you think there’s an issue, we can give you another batch.”

“Is that so?”

The adjutant sneered, then shouted at Doluka:

“However, since there’s plague toxin in the potion, we suspect there’s a necromancer among you—so we need to enter your camp for a search.”

Upon hearing this, Doluka understood their intent: they clearly still intended to get inside the camp.

“Sorry, we cannot allow you to enter.”

“Oh? Then you leave us no choice. You’ve obstructed the advance of the Ailera Empire’s forces, and you must pay the price!”

As those words fell, a sudden sense of danger surged in Doluka’s mind. She shouted,

“Get down!”

Just as her voice dropped, countless arrows flew from afar.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

The arrows thudded into the wooden walls in dense swarms. Thanks to Doluka’s warning, the elves ducked behind the walls just in time—so the ambush only left a few elves injured.

“Ah!”

Dolusam clutched his arm. As the village blacksmith, he rarely fought, so his combat sense was poor, and a stray arrow sliced his arm.

“Brother!”

Doluka shouted anxiously, but Dolusam replied, clutching his shoulder,

“I’m fine! Quick, organize the clan for a counterattack—the enemy attack is coming!”

Seeing the enemy charging under the cover of the arrow rain, Dolusam called out in urgency.

Hearing this, Doluka peered through a crack in the wall: a team of fewer than forty was storming forward, and their decisive actions proved this had all been premeditated.

As the enemy reached the dead-angled base of the camp’s wooden walls, Doluka shouted:

“Loose arrows!”

The elven archers fired, but during the brief lull, the enemy’s melee troops reached the wall’s base, and the enemy’s arrow barrage pinned down the elves’ bowmen, making it impossible to strike the infantry at the walls.

Seeing this, the elves exchanged fire with the enemy archers, but in ranged combat, the opponents were no match for them.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The human archers fell, wounded or dead. In just a few rounds, several human archers were knocked out of action, while the elves suffered almost no losses.

Just then, a loud impact sounded on the wooden wall.

Boom!!!

Something heavy struck the wall!

Ahem, the eastern continent’s Darkmoon Elf clans had always kept to themselves, yearning for peace and avoiding strife. They would help anyone in need—there were those as loyal as Aruka, but of course, there were also snakes ready to bite at any chance. Right now, their goal was to get the humans to leave as quickly as possible, not to provoke them into an unwinnable fight. So things like ‘intelligence’—it was just a difference in approach.

(To be continued)

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep