The Elven Cultivator

A thin mist, like a veil of gauze, drifted slowly across the wasteland, blurring the distant hills and ravines into silhouettes of varying shades.

Finn lay prone behind a low earthen slope, pressing his body down low. His dark brown cloak was adorned with withered grass and crushed leaves gathered from the wasteland, allowing him to blend in almost perfectly with the surrounding yellowed vegetation.

More than twenty meters behind him, a dry riverbed snaked through the landscape. The earthen banks on both sides were covered in dead vines, providing natural concealment.

Over forty Elf Warriors were scattered on both sides of the riverbed, holding their breath in concentration.

Their leather armor was also covered in camouflage. From a distance, they looked like a few somewhat orderly clumps of bushes and scattered rocks.

A faint rustling sound came from behind him. Finn didn't turn around until the person stopped half a meter to his side. Only then did he slightly turn his head, catching a glimpse of Rosaline's short, dark-red hair in his peripheral vision.

"I've scouted the area," Rosaline said, her voice hushed. "There are very few signs of animal activity around here. Those reptiles from the Molten Spike Tribe probably wouldn't come here to forage."

Finn's brow furrowed slightly. "That's strange... Could what we saw before have been wandering Lizard-men exiled from their tribe?"

After suffering multiple losses at the hands of the Silver Moon Clan, the Molten Spike Tribe had grown much more cautious.

Not only were they changing their hunting grounds periodically, but they had also increased the size of their hunting parties and even sent Silver Tier Dragon-Lizardmen to lead them, significantly increasing the difficulty of an ambush for the Forest Guard.

Lately, the Forest Guard had been playing a lot of cat and mouse with the Lizard-men on the wasteland.

Just three days ago, a Caster's avian familiar in the Forest Guard had discovered traces of Lizard-men nearby. Cedric suspected it might be a hunting party from the Molten Spike Tribe, so he dispatched the First and Second Squads to investigate.

But they had been lying in wait here for the better part of the day and hadn't seen a single soul.

"Let's wait a little longer," Finn said after a moment of thought. "If we don't find anything by dusk, we'll pull out."

Rosaline nodded and settled back into her concealed position.

In a wind-eroded hollow on the edge of the riverbed, Romance rested her War Axe across her lap, tracing the patterns on its surface.

Eleanor sat leaning against her, shoulder to shoulder, her posture relaxed.

After fighting side-by-side many times, the two had grown very close, becoming trusted friends who could watch each other's backs.

"Where did you get this weapon?" Eleanor asked curiously.

She had just noticed that Romance had a new War Axe, and it looked exceptionally well-crafted.

The patterns on the axe head, in particular, gave her a strangely familiar feeling.

"Anton forged this weapon especially for me," Romance boasted proudly.

Eleanor was taken aback, a flicker of astonishment in her eyes.

A weapon forged by Anton?

'When did he learn smithing?'

Wait!

Eleanor suddenly realized why the patterns on the axe head seemed so familiar.

The flow of the lines was clearly very similar to the runes on magical items.

"Is this... a magical item?"

"That's right," Romance nodded, her smile radiant.

Eleanor was stunned.

Creating a magical item, even the lowest-grade sub-magical item, placed extremely high demands on a Caster's proficiency in Alchemy.

She had been studying Alchemy for over forty years, yet she could only barely manage to create Sub-magical Items.

But Anton?

He had been involved with Alchemy for less than two years, all told, and he had already caught up to her.

'His talent is just too ridiculous!'

Eleanor recalled how, when she first heard that Anton had started studying Alchemy, she had secretly thought it was impossible for him to be gifted in that as well.

Now, it seemed that idea had been far too naive.

'A monster like Anton simply can't be measured by common sense.'

"Targets spotted! Everyone, get ready!"

Finn's hushed voice suddenly cut through the air, interrupting Eleanor's thoughts.

She immediately refocused and, at the same time as Romance, leaned forward to peer into the depths of the wasteland.

In the morning mist, a group of grayish-green figures was slowly moving in their direction.

As the distance closed, the figures' faces gradually came into view.

They were undoubtedly Lizard-men.

A rough count put their numbers at seventy to eighty.

Unexpectedly, these Lizard-men were also pushing carts. The wheels made a dull rumbling sound as they rolled over the uneven ground. Piled high on the carts were bulging animal-hide sacks, their unknown contents jiggling slightly with every bump.

Finn's gaze fell on the end of the procession, and his pupils contracted sharply.

"Humans?"

At the very end of the Lizard-man column, there were, of all things, three humans.

At first, Finn thought they were captives from the Human Race, captured after the Lizard-men had attacked some merchant caravan. But a closer look overturned that idea.

The three humans were cleanly dressed, with no bloodstains or injuries. Their expressions were calm, and they even had faint smiles as they spoke quietly among themselves. They looked nothing like prisoners.

Rosaline also noticed the three, a flicker of bewildered suspicion in her eyes.

"How did humans get mixed up with Lizard-men?"

Lizard-men didn't just attack the Silver Moon Forest; they wouldn't even spare Human Race caravans passing through the wasteland.

Among the Human Race, Lizard-men were synonymous with brutality and plunder.

It was hard to imagine the two groups mixing, let alone looking so congenial.

Finn and Rosaline exchanged a glance, each seeing the same judgment in the other's eyes—something was off.

"...Take out the Lizard-men first. Leave the three humans alive for interrogation."

Finn quickly made his decision and raised his hand, giving a signal.

On both sides of the riverbed, all the Elves tensed simultaneously, readying themselves for battle.

The Lizard-man party drew closer and closer.

When the lead Lizard-man stepped past a prominent rock, Finn gave a sudden, sharp command.

"Now!"

In an instant, dozens of arrows shot out from the riverbed like a torrential downpour, flying toward the Lizard-man column with sharp whistles.

At the same time, the Casters, who had been lying in wait, unleashed their power. Spells of all colors rained down on the Lizard-men like scattered blossoms, and a chaotic curtain of death woven from firelight and ice shards descended amidst a cacophony of explosions.

Caught completely off guard, over a dozen Lizard-men in the front ranks fell instantly, their screams and roars mixing into a chaotic din.

But the remaining Lizard-men reacted quickly, tightening their formation and raising their shields to block the arrows as they charged toward the riverbed.

Leading the charge were several exceptionally large Lizard-men.

They stood over two and a half meters tall, their bodies covered in rough, dark-red scales. The row of bone spikes on their backs was thicker and more robust than that of an ordinary Lizard-man.

These were Dragon-Lizardmen, the nobility among the Lizard-men.

A richer strain of Giant Dragon blood flowed in their veins than in ordinary Lizard-men, granting them the power of the Silver Tier upon reaching adulthood.

"Kill!"

Finn was the first to leap out from behind the slope. His Long Sword was drawn, its blade wreathed in a pale cyan halo as he slashed viciously at a Dragon-Lizardman.

The Elf Warriors followed close behind, vaulting out of the riverbed and surging toward the Lizard-men like a tide.

Romance charged at the very front. A Lizard-man thrust a bone spear at her, but she sidestepped it and swung her axe backhanded into its chest.

The moment the axe blade struck, a blue-white light erupted.

A thick layer of frost visibly formed on the Lizard-man's chest. Ice crystals spread outward along the cracks between its scales, and in the blink of an eye, its entire torso was frozen into a solid block of ice. It couldn't even let out a scream.

Romance kicked the ice sculpture over. The frozen block shattered into several pieces upon hitting the ground, revealing dark red frozen flesh and shards of ice at the breaking points.

"Whoa!"

Even Romance herself was stunned for a moment, then she broke into a wide grin, the excitement in her eyes flaring.

She turned and lunged at another Lizard-man. Wherever her Frost-Rune Axe passed, chilling air billowed and frost spread.

Lizard-men were not Rift-Spine Dragon Beasts; they still had a weakness to low temperatures and cold. The Frost Attribute of the Frost-Rune Axe was their perfect bane.

Lizard-men that would normally take several axe blows to defeat could now be frozen to death in a single strike.

A Dragon-Lizardman noticed Romance and charged at her with a roar, its sharp claws tearing through the air toward her neck.

Romance was undaunted. Gripping her axe with both hands, she brought it down in a powerful overhead chop.

The moment the axe blade collided with the claws, the Runes on the Frost-Rune Axe flared brightly. A blue-white tide of cold erupted like a furious wave, creeping up the Dragon-Lizardman's claws.

The Dragon-Lizardman grunted, the scales on its arm cracking in the extreme cold. Before any blood could flow, it froze into dark red ice crystals.

It violently pulled its arm back and looked down. Its entire forearm was numb, a purplish-black color of frostbite visible beneath the scales.

A trace of horror flashed in the Dragon-Lizardman's vertical pupils, and it subconsciously took half a step back.

But Romance gave it no chance to recover. She stepped forward in pursuit and swung her axe down again.

This blow landed squarely on the Dragon-Lizardman's shoulder. The axe blade cut into its Scale Armor, and a wave of cold flooded into its body through the wound.

The Dragon-Lizardman shuddered violently, spewing a bloody mist mixed with ice shards from its mouth as it staggered backward.

Eleanor, who had witnessed the entire exchange from the side, stared with wide, incredulous eyes.

"A Micro-Light Level magical item!"

How could she not see it now? The Frost-Rune Axe in Romance's hands wasn't a sub-magical item at all, but a genuine, bona fide Micro-Light Level magical item!

'Anton actually created a Micro-Light Level magical item!'

Eleanor felt her worldview being shattered all over again.

A Micro-Light Level magical item provided an immediate and dramatic boost to combat power, especially when the item was a perfect counter to the enemy.

Wielding the Frost-Rune Axe, Romance held an overwhelming advantage against the Dragon-Lizardman, which was also of the low-rank Silver Tier, beating her opponent into a pathetic state where it could barely defend itself.

After struggling to hold on for four or five minutes, the Dragon-Lizardman's head was sent flying by a single swing of Romance's axe.

Without pausing, Romance turned and charged toward the other Lizard-men.

The girl's wild fighting style, with its wide, powerful swings, looked even more savage and ferocious than the Lizard-men. Combined with the countering effect of the Frost-Rune Axe, the Lizard-men were routed wherever she went. She looked as if she might single-handedly carve a path through their entire group, making even the other Elf Guards turn their heads in awe.

The Elves were already stronger than the Lizard-men overall, and they had the advantage of a surprise attack. With Romance's sudden rampage, the battle's outcome was decided from the very beginning.

A little over ten minutes later, as the last Dragon-Lizardman was cut down by Finn's sword and completely incapacitated, the remaining Lizard-men finally broke, dropping their weapons and scattering in all directions.

The Elf Warriors gave chase, knocking them unconscious and tying them up with ropes.

When the battle was over, dozens of Lizard-man corpses lay scattered across the wasteland. Blood soaked the dry earth, and the thick stench of it filled the air.

The three humans cowered behind a cart, their faces filled with terror. When they saw the Elves looking their way, they were so frightened they fell to their knees and begged for mercy.

Finn ignored them, turning instead to look at Romance. His gaze fell upon the Frost-Rune Axe in her hand, and surprise appeared in his eyes.

"A Micro-Light Level magical item?"

Everyone had witnessed Romance's performance in the battle just now. The power displayed by that War Axe was clearly something only a Micro-Light Level magical item could possess.

"That's right." Romance puffed out her chest, her face full of pride. "This is a custom weapon Anton forged for me."

Finn and Rosaline were both stunned to hear this. 'Anton can do this, too?'

The other Elf Guards also looked at each other, their faces filled with shock.

Even though they all knew Anton was a genius, this news still came as a profound shock.

Finn opened his mouth as if to ask something, but in the end, he just shook his head and swallowed his questions.

He could already predict that once this news reached the Clan, it would undoubtedly cause another huge uproar.

Just then, a guard walked over quickly and reported, "Captain, we've checked the contents of the carts. It's all food."

Food?

Finn frowned, his sharp gaze turning to the three humans.

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