Becoming Legend - Chapter 381: Elf: Faeranduhl, V

“Ain’t you a sight with that dagger?” Dolaz said behind him Faeranduhl.

If he’s going to survive, Faeranduhl must learn the names of the people he must rely on. But he doubted what the half-elves’ leader said was a compliment. Two ghouls laid dead before him with their throats cut open. Sticky black liquid kept leaking and smudging the ashen sand.

“Not really,” Faeranduhl said, wiping sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. Iron and wood paddings clunked and felt heavy on his movements but they were required, they at least gave extra protection (minus the hindrance on his movements). “I could be better with a sw—”

Swords were forbidden. Unless he was one of the three great elves, Faeranduhl must not boast about his choice of arms. He instead wiped the black blood on his dagger with the cloth of his armor and turned to face the horde of ghouls.

“With what?” Dolaz said, loosening an arrow. He was decent on bow and arrows’ handling but somewhat hiding more of his capabilities. As though he was forced only to be there. Aside from his squared jaw, most half-elves got more of their elven counterparts: pointy ears, pointy eyes, golden to brown hair. He nocked another arrow, this time he conjured wind and imbued it to the arrow’s path, increasing the speed and killing the ghoul through its eyes. Not impressive; common to elves, but Faeranduhl doubted Dolaz he’s all bows and arrows.

“Nothing…” Faeranduhl trailed off with brows knotting in confusion. He then caught the skinny, now massively jacked, elf ramming the horde of ghouls in a straight line with his massively jacked shoulder. “Does he always do that?”

“Oh, you mean Peren?” Dolaz said, stopping beside Faeranduhl. “He does not. That’s why, given the chance, he just goes all out.”

Peren roared to the incoming horde. Two of the five runic symbols on his arms glowed blue and he started pommeling the ghouls like watermelons. Well, like a watermelon they were after their heads smashed, limbs torn, and bodies ripped to half.

A pair of half-elves stopped behind Faeranduhl and Dolaz. Both were female, and heaving out of breath. Their momentary stillness was followed by a whistle of wind when one of the elves came passing them. “Move!” he commanded.

“Move,” Dolaz mimicked the elf, and moved as they followed the elf soldier. Instead of a bow, the elf held a staff of wood intertwined with green wires of vine. At the tip, it glows white, releasing wind magic to aid his plight.

Faeranduhl looked confused once again looking at the staff the elf was holding. With his free hand, he rubbed the wooden necklace on his neck. He looked to his right and caught the image of Dolaz’s necklace. But his was made of silver and Faeranduhl could not see, or feel mana flow or disturbance from it.

“You okay, new bud?” Dolaz said, running together with the pair of half-elves to his side. He then pointed to the far right, giving instructions to the pair before they broke off the formation.

“The necklace,” Faeranduhl shouted over the screams of ghouls caused by the pair of half-elves after they conjured spears made of terra magic. The conjuration of spells gave Faeranduhl another furrowed brows. “They seemed to hide the magic.”

Faeranduhl, Dolaz, Peren, the pair of half-elves, and the sole elf were headed south of the city hall. Where they must raise a massive wall to stop the ghouls from entering the courtyard of the city hall. Others were assigned the same task, accompanied by elves as well, in different directions.

It was supposed to be an easy task. Conjure a massive wall. But with hundreds of the ghouls, the task was now troublesome. Even Elder Madras who was supporting them from the flying ghouls with his crystalline bow.

The mission gave Faeranduhl a feeling that he was doing the elves a favor. Like he and the team were given the most difficult yet important task that even most of the elves were not able to do. The thought gave Faeranduhl a feeling of proudness.

He almost smiled as he waited for Dolaz’s words.

Yet, none he received. Instead, there was a shake of disbelief and Dolaz continued to rush the battlefield. Leaving Faeranduhl alone.

The battlefield was dimmed dark and crimson. Occasional rays from the sun hit the island but it was seldom to happen that snowflakes were often seen instead. But snowflakes melted even before they hit the ground. Aside from the snowcaps of the mountain ranges lining the south of the island, Faeranduhl could not see any snow covering the ground but ashes and burnt woods.

Faeranduhl wondered what happened to the people of the island. He thought that the island was once a lively place for people living on it. Although Faeranduhl has yet to explore the island, he already expected to see many dead lying on the ground. And more ghouls. Ghouls were supposed to not exist in their region, or perhaps the whole of Earflgard after they were annihilated a long time, but he also considered the powers leaking from the Gate. He assumed that the ghouls came from it. And the thick condense of tainted mana lingering in the air. Not just the air around him, but the whole of the island.

Faeranduhl stood rubbing the rod-shaped wooden necklace. After seeing no flow, and sensing nothing the moment and after a spell was conjured, he assumed it was due to the wooden necklace Elder Calanye gave him. The necklace was supposed to ease the blight from entering his body. But he also assumed there’s more to it.

Faeranduhl shook his head, held the dagger tighter. He wanted to explore the outside, find goodness in the humans, and make his mother proud. All he needed to accomplish was to prepare and expect the unexpected. Or assume the unexpected? Or ‘will’ the unexpected?

Faeranduhl smiled, trying to remember the exact words her mother told him. She said silly things that were mostly told by his human partner (Faeranduhl’s father). Eventually, some of those were passed on to him. He looked up, seeing not the darkness and crimson sky but an imaginary face of his father. “Father guides me,” he murmured and released the wooden necklace and ran to Dolaz.

If he wanted to fulfill his dreams, elf, a human, either or neither. A few centuries were not enough. He needed more: experience, fighting, intrigues, and ghouls. More ghouls.

He appeared next to Dolaz. If he wanted more, he needed someone who had it already. He can’t expect to just walk to the elves, or the Elders, and ask them to take him under them. No. He knew that’s not going to happen. Although Dolaz was somewhat reserved, he at least had him. For now.

“Tell me what to do,” Faeranduhl said. After wearing the wooden necklace. He felt his mana was restricted, but not to the point of being useless. Faeranduhl thanked Elder Calanye in his head. If not for him, he might be overwhelmed by the blight and not be able to battle or even move.

“Assist Peren and make a path to the wall,” Dolaz said flatly, not looking at Faeranduhl. “Make sure you make it to the wall.”

Dolaz’s voice made Faeranduhl as though he was a burden to the group. He fainted once, but that was before.

Faeranduhl nodded instead. Of course, he needed to make it to the wall to conjure terra magic along with the others. And of course, without dying. It would be a shame for him to die if he just started his adventures.

Faeranduhl assessed himself. “Good,” he said. He got enough mana to make it to the wall while battling hordes of ghouls, while conjuring wind and terra magic along the way, all the while running non-stop, and upon reaching will conjure terra magic to raise a massive wall. Good indeed.

He was scared, but not enough to overcome his excitement.

He dashed from Dolaz after conjuring wind magic and imbued it to his feet.

Appearing next to Peren, the gigantic elf, and pushed the tip of his dagger deep down the surprised ghoul.

Peren growled and almost shattered Faeranduhl’s ears. He gave him a nod and continued to devastate the ghouls getting in his way.

Arrows swooshed to their sides as the Dolaz and the pair of half-elves supported them from behind.

Faeranduhl did not look back but continuously imbued his legs with wind magic. He was nimble even before the wind magic. Adding more to his legs, he almost blur as he approached the elf ahead of them.

The elf almost backhanded Faeranduhl as he appeared before him wrapped in black blood and scratches. The elf looked at the wind magic coiling on Faeranduhl’s legs then at the wooden necklace on his neck. The chill of his smirk ran down on Faeranduhl’s nerves. He did not even look at him before dashing, leaving Faeranduhl alone. Again.

As Faeranduhl raced to the southern wall. Fragmented buildings of stones, perhaps marble, too fuzzy for Faeranduhl to see, approached him. Another restriction the wooden necklace presented him was the incapacitation of his senses. Faeranduhl was trained to imbue his senses with mana, greatly enhancing them. But now that the wooden necklace was placed upon him, he felt like an entirely different person. Like a newly born: He could hear, yes. Move his limbs, yes. Utter a couple of gibberish words, yes. But seeing? It’s like Faeranduhl was back to how he started training his senses. Only he was efficient. An efficient few-days-old half-elf baby.

Flying ghoul fell beside him, struck with an arrow through its reddish eye. It squeaked like a bore before dying.

And Faeranduhl continued. Peren trailing, and smashing behind him. Dolaz and the half-elves faired the same.

Once near the wall, Faeranduhl pushed himself up with the aid of his wind magic. He hovered momentarily before falling closer to the elf over the stone wall.

The stone wall was a meter thick. Almost three or four meters high. It was made to separate the outside from the inside. Made to stop common thieves or pirates, or simply divides the town from the rich and poor. Faeranduhl wouldn’t know. But obviously not the ghouls. Ghouls could easily clamber up with their inhumane claws.

The elf pulled a small-sized mana stone and instantly emptied it of its energy, turning the white light on his staff to a bright brown. The elf was akin to an afraid man, afraid that Faeranduhl might steal his mana stones.

Still, he did not look at Faeranduhl.

He threw the empty mana stone, clanging on the stone wall. He raised his hand, holding the staff, and conjured terra magic, double the thickness than the stone wall. Battle robe flutters not from the wind, but the mana leaving his body. He also wore a rod-shaped silver necklace but was different from Dolaz. It was sleek, smooth, with symbols etched on the sides that Faeranduhl could not understand. Not the standard elven language, but old. Very old.

He conjured a wall so massive it stood towering over them with its shadow hovering on them. Twelve or fifteen meters high and covered almost half of the southern wall. The elf did not even look weakened or pale. Not even a sweat.

Contrastingly, Faeranduhl looked otherwise. Blood from bruises: face, arms, and legs. More bruises and he would look more of a ghoul not of the half-elves.

“Perhaps,” Faeranduhl said, arcing his lips. “Spare a bit of your light magic?”

The elf, for the first time, looked at Faeranduhl. Flat. Unemotional. Then disdain.

The elf snickered and jumped off the wall and ran back to the city hall.

“I thought I looked friendly,” Faeranduhl said, shaking his head.