Book 5: Chapter 34: Battle of Elves

Facing the onslaught of snake vines, Qingming arched her willow-leaf eyebrows. She pressed her toe against a thick vine, executed a backflip mid-air, and dodged the attack.

Upon landing, the vines before her had fully grown, each nearly as thick as an adult’s arm. They tangled together, forming a dense wall that completely blocked the once-spacious cave entrance.

Her expression darkened as she turned to observe the young man guzzling nutrient fluid.

“With your strength, you can’t create matter from nothing. This wood-element spell relies on plant seeds! Did you predict my interference?” Qingming’s tone was cold and detached.

Qin Lun’s face paled. The Hill Giant cave entrance stood six meters high and four meters wide. To seal such an expanse, he had exhausted all seven Snake Vine Giant Creeper seeds, draining his Energy Points.

“Oh, just a small trick. Keeps outsiders from stealing the Main Quest reward if you stay put. But if you follow me in…” He smiled brightly, tossing an empty Silvermycin bottle. “It becomes your cage.”

Qingming’s initial favorable impression of the courteous elf vanished. His grin now grated on her nerves.

She shook her longbow, her voice icy. “Let’s see your confidence in trapping me.”

“I admit you’re stronger. As fellow Elves, our forest terrain advantage cancels out. Your bow outranges my handguns if you stay outside.” Qin Lun chuckled regretfully. “A pity…”

“A pity? Even at this distance, your guns’ higher fire rate guarantees nothing.” She glanced mockingly at the growling Cerberus near Qin Lun. “Or is this fifth-tier Inferno Hound your trump card?”

Qin Lun smirked but wasted no more words. He lunged forward and fired. Bang!

Qingming tilted her head. The bullet grazed past her cheek, severing a few purple hairs. His aggression chilled her—he saw through her plan.

During their earlier fight, she’d used two bow skills: Rapid Shot and Armor-Piercing Arrow, a Mana-draining Apostle Skill.

Rapid Shot strained her arms, requiring breaks every ten arrows. Armor-Piercing Arrow cost such heavy Mana she could fire only five before waiting minutes for recovery.

She always saved the final Arrow as backup. Yet Qin Lun’s sudden assault on the Hill Giant had lured her into firing her fifth Arrow—the Fine Iron Long Arrow piercing its eye.

The vine-wall trap proved Qin Lun anticipated everything. She’d stalled conversation hoping to wait out her cooldown. Now his attack showed he knew her limits.

Dread washed over Qingming. Stalking him for days revealed nothing. Even their “chance” battle became his trap—exploiting her urge to claim damage points to time her cooldowns.

And this cave? Prepared from the start. A tomb for the Hill Giant… and a cage for her.

The forest once favored her bow’s range. Here, his guns reigned.

Forcing an Elf archer to forfeit forest advantage? Unthinkable. Yet this seamless plan stripped her of every edge.

As a veteran tactician, she’d met cunning Apostles who calculated cooldowns in battle. But none like Qin Lun—a mind-reader who weaponized psychology and terrain.

Pray he’s a Lone Apostle… not with Hill’s team.

Qin Lun’s poise revealed no concern for allies, though another battlefield had shifted.

He watched Qingming, perplexed. Her gaze went vacant, face cycling through rage and despair. Distraction mid-fight?

His instincts flared. Halting, he signaled his Inferno Hound. Cerberus howled and charged.

Wind snapped Qingming alert. She quickly raised her bow, formed an odd gesture, and summoned ripples of power.

A vortex bloomed before Cerberus. Massive obsidian claws emerged, wrenching the portal wider as a clawed beast forced its way out.

Cerberus collided with the creature. Both crashed back, howling.

Qingming’s summon resembled a monstrous crab: pitch-black carapace, enormous claws, barbed walking legs, and eerie cyan eyes.

Qin Lun’s eyes lit with recognition. A Dark Crystal Rock Crab!

During his Devil’s Horn days, he’d sought robust combat summons. Demons were first choice, but the Wind Elemental Race also dealt in elemental allies—including Earth-element tanks like the Dark Crystal Rock Crab.

Both fifth-tier beings clashed: the Inferno Hound excelled in attack; the crystal crab ruled defense.

Relief eased Qingming’s tension. But turning to her foe, she found him gone—a rush of wind overhead.

Her gaze snapped upward. Qin Lun plummeted feet-first, arms shielding his face.

Qingming’s eyes flashed cold. She drew her bowstring empty. With a sharp twang, a crescent-shaped Wind Blade launched at him.

Her aim was swift—a loose draw for speed rather than power.

Near point-blank range, Qin Lun grinned. Spinning like a top, he swept Angel’s Praise. The blade shimmered, deflecting the ethereal wind edge.

Simultaneously, from an impossible angle, Demon’s Song fired. Bang!

Qingming’s wrist flicked. The bowstring faced outward, its dragon-tendon fiber blazing with light. Ting! The bullet struck metallic resonance off the taut cord.

Expression stone-cold, she gripped her bow like a crescent-sword—string as blade, bowstave as handle—slashing toward his spine.

You think me helpless close-range?

Qin Lun seemed to sense it. Twisting, his left-hand Demon’s Song parried her bow-blade.

His right-hand Angel’s Praise fired backward from his armpit. Bang!

What followed was a deadly shadow-dance. Over seconds, they mirrored fiery Gypsy steps—bullets and blade-edges grazing vital spots.

Within three feet, shimmering arcs and afterimages wove together like a God of Death reaping souls.