Chapter 158: Silvie’s Gratitude

[Kuan the Bandit Lord (Lv. 66) Defeated!]

[+750 EXP | +900 EP]

[Amar (Lv. 48) Defeated!]

[+220 EXP | +180 EP]

[Ice Spirit Mage (Lv. 52) Defeated by Party Member Ignis]

[+340 EXP | +280 EP]

[Ding! Level Up!]

[Level: 66 -> 67]

[EXP: 715/540 -> 175/580]

[Evolution Points: 2060 -> 3420]

[Skill Point Gained: +1]

[Total Skill Points: 7]

[Crown of the Hollow Glutton]

[Souls Captured: 269 -> 274]

[+2 Souls Acquired]

Adam blinked as the notifications scrolled through his vision, the familiar glow of his system interface briefly overlaying the blood-soaked cavern. Another level. The bandits had been worth it—especially Kuan.

“Not bad,” he murmured, flexing his fingers. The last of Kuan’s blood dripped from his knuckles.

A soft rustle of fabric announced Lilith’s approach. She glided through the carnage with her usual grace, stepping over bodies and around pools of blood as if they were merely inconvenient puddles. Her crimson eyes swept over the scene—Kuan’s broken form against the wall, the Spirit Eater lying near the cage, Adam standing in the center of it all.

“A good fight, Adam,” she said, stopping beside him. Her voice was approving, but there was a familiar edge to it—critique wrapped in praise. “Your execution, however, remains… lacking.”

Adam snorted, shaking out his hand. “I’m not as crazy as you, Lilith. And anyway, if I killed him too brutally, blood would’ve gotten everywhere.” He gestured vaguely at his clothes, which were surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the cavern. “This way, minimal cleanup.”

Lilith’s lips curved into a small, amused smile. “Practicality over artistry. How very you.”

Before Adam could respond, he felt it—eyes on him. Dozens of eyes.

He turned.

The elf prisoners were staring. All of them. Their faces were a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something else—something that made Adam slightly uncomfortable. Hope. Pure, desperate, fragile hope.

A young elf woman—the one who had screamed the warning about the Spirit Eater—pressed against the cage bars. Her eyes were red and swollen, tears still tracking through the grime on her cheeks. Her voice, when it came, was raw with emotion.

“Thank you… thank you for your generosity. Thank you for saving us.”

Adam remembered it from her desperate shouts during the fight. She was trembling—whether from fear, exhaustion, or overwhelming relief, he couldn’t tell.

Behind her, the other elves stirred. Some wept openly, silent tears cutting paths through the dirt on their faces. Others simply stared, their expressions blank with shock, unable to process that rescue had actually come.

“Finally… finally someone came…”

“We thought we were going to die here…”

“I never thought I’d see the sun again…”

“The gods have answered our prayers…”

Their voices rose in a broken chorus—thanks, prayers, sobs of relief. Some clutched each other, weeping. Others slumped against the bars, too weak to stand but unable to look away from their saviors.

Adam glanced at the huddled elves, then at Lilith’s questioning gaze. He raised his voice enough for the prisoners to hear.

“You’re free now. Consider yourselves lucky we happened to pass through here.”

Lilith leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for Adam. “Is it wise to simply release them? They could become… burdensome if they decide to follow us.”

Before Adam could respond, Silvie’s voice cut through—clear, steady, with a dignity that seemed to draw from some deep well of resilience despite everything she’d endured.

“Please do not concern yourself with that, Savior. I give you my word—we will not follow you. We are capable of protecting ourselves. We have our own path to walk.”

Lilith’s eyebrows rose slightly. A small, amused smile touched her lips. “Hmm~ Good. That saves us the trouble of convincing you otherwise.”

THWACK.

Lilith’s head jerked forward, her hands flying to the spot where Adam’s palm had connected with the back of her skull. Her eyes went wide—genuinely wide, for once—and she spun to face him, her expression caught somewhere between shock and indignation.

“I-It hurts!! What was that for?!”

Adam’s hand was still raised from the strike, his expression unimpressed. “Don’t be mean to them. They’re victims, not liabilities.” He fixed her with a look that brooked no argument. “Show some basic decency.”

Lilith rubbed the back of her head, a faint pout forming on her usually serene features. It was… surprisingly childlike. Almost cute. “I was simply being catious…”

Adam ignored her, turning back to the elves. His voice softened slightly—not much, but enough to notice.

“This is a bandit camp. Which means there’s loot—supplies, weapons, whatever they stole from you. Take what you need. You’re probably starving too, so grab food first.” He gestured vaguely at the buildings around them.

Silvie stared at him, her red-rimmed eyes widening. For a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. Then she bowed—not deeply, but with genuine respect.

“Thank you. For saving us… and for this.” She straightened, meeting his crimson gaze directly. “Not just for the rescue, but for treating us as people. That… means more than you know.”

Behind her, the other elves stirred, some already moving cautiously toward the buildings, others watching Adam with expressions of awe and gratitude.

Adam simply nodded, then turned away.

Lilith continued rubbing her head, still pouting. “You didn’t have to hit me that hard…”

Adam glanced back at her, one eyebrow raised. “You will be fine.”

“Unfair…” she muttered, but there was no real anger in it. If anything, she seemed almost… pleased. As if his casual violence was its own form of attention.

Adam crouched and picked up the fallen Spirit Eater, turning the gauntlet over in his hands. The black metal was cold against his skin, the snarling maw design seeming to mock him even in its depleted state. He focused, and his system interface flickered to life with analysis.

[Spirit Eater (Cursed Artifact – Legendary)]

[Status: Depleted (0/0 Spirits)]

[Effect: Allows the wearer to capture, enslave, and weaponize spiritual entities. Consumed spirits are permanently bound to the artifact, their power added to the wielder’s arsenal.]

[Backlash: Prolonged use corrupts the wielder’s soul, gradually eroding identity and morality. High risk of eventual possession by the collective rage of trapped spirits. Each spirit consumed accelerates the corruption.]

Adam’s expression darkened. “A dangerous artifact,” he murmured. “Powerful, but the backlash is severe. This thing could destroy someone from the inside out.”

A soft sound—leather on stone—announced Silvie’s approach. She had retrieved her bow from somewhere, a simple but well-crafted weapon that she handled with the familiarity of long practice. Her movements were still weak, exhausted, but there was purpose in them now.

“About that artifact,” Silvie said, her voice careful. “May I… may I be the one to take it?”

Lilith’s head snapped toward her, crimson eyes narrowing. “Hmm? That’s rather forward of you. You’ve already been given supplies, freedom, and your life. Gratitude would be more appropriate than requests.”

Adam glanced at Lilith, noting the edge in her voice. ’That’s… unusually aggressive. Even for her. What’s her problem with this elf? Does she have some history I don’t know about?’

He turned back to Silvie, keeping his voice neutral. “Why?”

Silvie met his gaze steadily, though her fingers tightened on her bow. “Because that artifact is a threat to my people. Elves draw power from spirits—it’s woven into our magic, our culture, our very existence. The Spirit Eater preys on that connection. That’s why these bandits were able to defeat us.”

She took a breath, steadying herself. “We need to seal it away. Somewhere no one with ill intent toward elves can ever find it again. I don’t ask for myself—I ask for my people. For those who died here, and for those who might be targeted in the future.”

Adam studied the elf woman’s face—her red-rimmed eyes, the desperate sincerity burning in them, the way she held herself with fragile dignity despite everything. There was something almost… endearing about it. Like a wounded bird demanding to be taken seriously.

’Hmm… she’s kind of cute when she’s being earnest like this,’ Adam thought, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. ’Not that I’d say that out loud. Lilith would probably bite me.’

He glanced down at the Spirit Eater in his hands, turning it over once more. The black metal was cold, the snarling maw design mocking. His system’s warning about corruption and soul erosion echoed in his mind.

’Yeah… no. Keeping this thing would be stupid. The Crown already does the soul-eating thing better, and without the whole ’losing my identity’ drawback. This is just a liability waiting to happen.’

He looked back at Silvie, who was still watching him with those big, pleading eyes.

Adam shrugged, holding out the gauntlet. “Do whatever you want with it.”

Silvie’s eyes went wide. For a moment, she seemed frozen, unable to process that he’d actually agreed. Then she stepped forward quickly—almost stumbling in her eagerness—and took the artifact from his hands. She held it carefully, as if it were a venomous snake that might still bite.

“Thank you,” she breathed, bowing her head. “I’m sorry for asking so much after you’ve already given us everything. We haven’t even properly introduced ourselves.” She straightened, meeting his gaze with renewed dignity. “My name is Silvie. Silvie Moonshadow, of the Silverwind Clan.”

Adam nodded, gesturing vaguely at himself and Lilith. “I’m Adam. This is Lilith. And as you’ve probably figured out by now…” He let a faint smirk touch his lips. “We’re not human.”

Silvie’s expression flickered—surprise, then acceptance, then something almost like relief. “I… yes. I noticed. The scales, the eyes…” She glanced at Lilith, then quickly away, as if remembering the ecstatic smile during Amar’s execution. “But honestly? After everything we’ve endured at human hands…” Her voice hardened slightly. “That distinction means very little to me now.”

Lilith tilted her head, studying Silvie with new interest. “Hmm~ Adaptable. I approve.” Her lips curved into a smile that held no warmth, but also no hostility—a rare combination. “Though I still don’t trust you.”

Adam sighed. “Lilith.”

“What? I’m being honest.” Lilith’s pout returned, absurdly childish for someone who had just executed a man with artistic cruelty. “Honesty is important in relationships.”

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