[Successfully consumed Shielded-Spear Elf, Rank C & Soldier Grade]

  The blue panel flashed in front of my vision so casually, as if I had just completed some harmless daily task instead of murdering a trained soldier and devouring his soul.

  For a split second, I stared at it.

  Then I ran. No celebration or analysis.

  Ever since that soldier screamed at the top of his lungs, the entire base had erupted into motion. Boots pounded against the ground behind me. Orders were shouted. Metal clanged, especially those gold bells they made. It’s surprising how no one stole them since they looked quite valuable.

  The sound of pursuit did not fade. If I was to think that, then I would be a dumbass because the noises only multiplied.

  I darted between structures, cutting corners sharply, trying to avoid open lines of sight. My breathing was steady for now, but the situation was spiraling.

  How many are there?

  I glanced back once.

  Big mistake.

  The group was larger than I expected.

  Much larger.

  At first, it was five.

  Then eight.

  Then more.

  It was as if every few seconds another elf joined the chase, slipping into formation naturally, weapons already drawn. Their coordination was not sloppy. They were not panicking.

  They were organizing.

  From where I ran, I could identify the types clearly.

  Spearmen near the front.

  Swordmen flanking.

  Archers kept their distance behind them.

  It was not random. Definitely not fucking random. It was a formation.

  Why is this happening to me, I thought.

  “I’m fucked,” I muttered under my breath.

  Could I take them down?

  Probably.

  One by one.

  Maybe even two or three at once if I played it perfectly.

  But a dozen at the same time?

  With archers?

  With proper spacing?

  That was not bravery… In my world, I call that suicide dressed up as confidence.

  An arrow whizzed past my ear and embedded itself into a wooden post ahead of me.

  “Stop the human!”

  “Do not let him reach the inner tents!”

  Great.

  They were not just chasing blindly. They were protecting something.

  Which meant the big tent ahead was important.

  I slowed slightly as I approached it.

  The tent was larger than the others, reinforced at the base, guarded more heavily than surrounding structures. Even from a distance, I could tell it was not just storage.

  Command.

  Supplies.

  Or something worse.

  If that’s their center, dragging them there could either be genius or the dumbest shit I’ve ever done.

  I kept running until I was close enough to see the entrance clearly.

  Then I stopped.

  Not slowed.

  Stopped.

  I turned around and faced them.

  The soldiers slowed as well, surprised that I had chosen to confront instead of flee.

  The front line tightened formation.

  Spears angled forward.

  Swords raised.

  Archers positioned themselves carefully behind the melee line, drawing their bows halfway.

  One of the spear soldiers stepped forward slightly. “Drop your weapon and surrender. You are surrounded.”

  I laughed.

  Like… Actually laughed.

  “Do I look like I’m in the mood to surrender?”

  “You have killed one of our own,” another swordsman said coldly. “You will answer for it.”

  “Yeah?” I tilted my head slightly, gripping the branch tighter. “Blah, blah, blah. Fight me then”

  Some of the enemies’ eyes narrowed.

  I could feel their caution.

  They had seen what happened to the last soldier.

  They were not underestimating me anymore.

  Good.

  That meant hesitation. And hesitation meant openings.

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  But there were still too many of them.

  I shifted my weight subtly, calculating.

  Archers first?

  No.

  Too far back.

  If I charge recklessly, I eat three arrows before I even reach them.

  Spearmen first?

  Break their line?

  Maybe.

  But if I get pinned from both sides, I’m done.

  Think. Think, you idiot.

  Another soldier joined the back of the group, slightly out of breath.

  See?

  More.

  Always more.

  It felt endless.

  “This is your final warning,” the front spearman said, voice steady. “Surrender.”

  I smirked faintly.

  “You know what? I was thinking the same thing.”

  A few of them frowned in confusion.

  “Surrender,” I continued calmly, eyes scanning their formation, “and I might let a few of you walk away.”

  Silence.

  Then anger.

  One of the archers barked, “Arrogant human—”

  “Loose on my mark!” another ordered.

  My heart pounded once.

  Hard.

  This was it. No more running. No more hiding.

  If I did not thin them out fast, I would drown in numbers.

  Alright.

  Let’s see how much my so-called ‘training’ from killing those monsters paid off.

  I adjusted my stance.

  “Reanimate!” I shouted.

  The command tore out of my throat with urgency, desperation, and a slight hint of madness.

  Mana surged outward from me, not in an elegant wave but in a violent pulse that distorted the air around my feet. For a fraction of a second, the ground beneath the fallen corpses shimmered.

  Then they moved.

  The elf brute was the first to rise.

  Massive.

  Broad.

  His body jerked upright unnaturally, like a puppet yanked by invisible strings, before stabilizing into a steady stance. His eyes were empty now. No hesitation. No personality. Just obedience.

  Then came Greed.

  A human samurai.

  Calm posture.

  Controlled breathing.

  His blade materialized in his hand as if it had never left. He did not speak. He simply turned his head slightly, acknowledging me.

  The female elf samurai rose next.

  Her movements were smooth despite the death she had endured earlier. Her expression was blank but her stance was refined. Disciplined. Deadly.

  And finally—

  My newest summon.

  The Shielded-Spear Elf.

  He rose slower than the others, the shield dragging slightly before he adjusted his grip. The obsidian spear tip glinted faintly as he lifted it into position.

  Four.

  Four against over one or two dozens.

  I exhaled slowly.

  Alright… let’s see how this goes.

  Surprisingly, they did not need instructions.

  The moment they fully formed, they moved.

  Formation snapped into place instinctively.

  The elf brute stepped to the front, towering slightly over the others, shoulders squared and ready to smash through whatever stood in front of him.

  The Shielded-Spear Elf positioned himself beside the brute, shield angled outward, spear ready to thrust at anything that slipped past.

  Behind them stood Greed and the female elf samurai, blades angled low, waiting for openings. Executioners in reserve.

  The enemy soldiers hesitated for barely a second.

  Then they charged.

  “Forward!”

  “Kill them!”

  “Take down the human first!”

  They rushed in, abandoning their earlier formation in favor of overwhelming force. Spears jabbed wildly. Swordmen pushed aggressively. Archers shifted to reposition for clear shots.

  The good thing?

  They were no longer organized.

  The bad news?

  We were heavily outnumbered.

  Before I could shout a command or offer any strategic input, my mini army had already surged forward.

  The elf brute roared, not from emotion but from programmed aggression, and slammed directly into the front line. His massive arm swung horizontally, knocking two spearmen off their feet instantly.

  The Shielded-Spear Elf stepped in, shield bashing one soldier in the face before thrusting his obsidian spear through another’s thigh.

  Greed moved like water.

  One step forward.

  One clean slash.

  A soldier’s throat opened before he even realized he had been cut.

  The female elf samurai followed through with a swift horizontal strike, severing fingers from a swordsman who had attempted to block too late.

  [You have killed Rank D Spearman Elf.]

  [You have killed Rank D Swordman Elf.]

  The notifications popped rapidly in my vision.

  Right.

  [A/N: When a summon kills an enemy, it will say that the owner of the summon killed it and not the summon’s name who killed the enemy]

  This is insane.

  An arrow flew toward me and I ducked just in time, feeling it graze past my shoulder.

  “Focus on the summoner!” an elf shouted.

  Two swordsmen broke off from the main clash and rushed me directly.

  I did not retreat.

  I stepped forward.

  One of them swung horizontally at my neck.

  I leaned back barely enough for the blade to miss, then thrust the branch into his exposed ribs. The fungus reacted instantly, spreading along his armor gaps.

  He screamed.

  The second soldier tried to stab me from the side, but Greed intercepted smoothly, parrying the blade and slicing the elf across the abdomen in one clean motion.

  [You have killed Rank D Swordman Elf.]

  The battlefield was chaotic.

  The elf brute grabbed a soldier by the chest and hurled him backward into two archers, breaking their aim completely.

  The Shielded-Spear Elf moved defensively, blocking strikes meant for Greed and counter thrusting with mechanical precision.

  The female elf samurai stepped through openings like she could see the future, her blade flashing again and again.

  But there were still many.

  Too many.

  Another wave pushed forward.

  Spears thrust in unison this time, slightly more coordinated.

  The brute absorbed two hits, one piercing his shoulder, another grazing his side, but he did not falter. He grabbed one spear shaft and snapped it violently before headbutting its owner into unconsciousness.

  [You have killed Rank D Spearman Elf.]

  Sweat rolled down my temple.

  We’re holding… but barely.

  One of the archers managed to reposition properly and released.

  The arrow struck the Shielded-Spear Elf directly in the neck.

  He staggered slightly.

  Then continued fighting as if nothing happened.

  Right.

  They did not feel pain and they didn’t hesitate. They only obeyed my command.

  “Fall back! Regroup!” one of the enemy soldiers shouted desperately.

  But momentum had shifted.

  Greed stepped into the gap created by their retreat and cut down another elf in a diagonal strike so clean it almost looked effortless.

  [You have killed Rank D Archer Elf.]

  The female elf samurai pivoted and stabbed upward beneath a helmet, finishing another.

  The brute crushed a soldier’s skull against his knee.

  [You have killed Rank D Swordman Elf.]

  Bodies began to litter the ground.

  The remaining elves finally started to understand something terrifying.

  They were not fighting one human.

  They were fighting five.

  And the four beside me did not fear death.

  One of the younger soldiers faltered visibly.

  “This isn’t normal… what the hell are they?!”

  “They’re corpses!” another shouted.

  “Kill the summoner! Kill the summoner!”

  I tightened my grip on the branch, breathing harder now.

  Yeah… Come try.

  They surged again.

  And this time—

  I stepped forward with them.

  Because if they thought I was just standing behind my summons, they were about to learn exactly how wrong they were.

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