Chapter 1240: An Old Friend

Of course, both Draco and the elves surrounding the squad did not care about how the 1000th squad reacted to Draco's sudden behavior. A bunch of fellows whose lives were on the chopping board, who would bother to care what they thought?

After all, from the onset, Draco never intended to help this squad. He was here to role-play, not reveal his grand talents, so teammates dying dramatically while he roared to the sky in sorrow was the norm, right?

And die they would.

You see, it was one thing for this squads to hit other depots and areas but fail, where the elves would only symbolically take a life or two among the members that they didn't like. However, the squad, for whatever reason, dared to actually target a nursery and school area!

Killing the young of another was one of the greatest taboos that incited hatred, and it was a miracle that they hadn't been cut down by the elves already. Actually, it wasn't a miracle, but a ploy, because they wanted to squad to head deep enough that escape would be impossible.

Draco was privy to the whole plan but did not share it. Rather he was amused by the ongoing spiritual debate among the elves, loud enough that even the trees and flowers nearby began swaying erratically.

Unsurprisingly, the already tense squad seemed to notice this as Kalion spoke deeply. "Stick together. We are probably surrounded already, a battle could begin at any time."

The elves immediately went silent at that, ashamed that their behavior had alerted the enemy and significantly reduced their chances of success due to a loss of the element of surprise.

Draco was surprised by this, but he was forgetting that even if the squad did not have sensory methods to detect the elves, they still had their experience from previous battles as well as information gathered at the encampment from other surviving squads.

Hmm, things will be interesting then.

Eventually, Lia returned to the squad by appearing suddenly beside Kalion, who was not startled as he was used to her antics. She immediately began sharing what she found, which made Kalion's eyes flicker as he relayed it to the squad through a special communication method.

"Stay on guard, we have a tough battle ahead. The elves have put up a strong guard around the Hearth of Growth, meaning that sneaking in is practically impossible. We have to attack head-on, which poses a significant risk."

The squad tensed a bit more, but were also slightly relaxed. What they feared the least was a head-on fight, as they were warriors of the WMP! The only thing about the elves that was troubling was their ambush tactics, that was all.

Soon enough, the squad came upon their first trap which was set by the elves.

"ARRGH!"

A scream sounded from Makar, whose leg was mauled by a greatly camouflaged spike trap, causing him to drop his saber and try to free himself. Immediately, Byron and the others stepped back, because they knew that the elves often made secondary traps meant to catch those who came to assist.

"I've got you!" Clove stated as she clapped her hands, making Makar teleport to her side.

This released him from the trap and also revealed the terrible state of his leg, enough that Draco knew that were this not a world of fantasy, the fellow would have to get it amputated for sure. Luckily, the squad had a healer here, and Darlia placed a hand over Makar's leg that glowed with a gentle violet light.

As the healing was going on, Draco walked over to the trap and peered inside. It was a simple trap with spikes that would activate once pressure was placed on the entrance, causing the target to slip inside and use their own weight to impale whatever part fell within.

Draco tsked, because he could see the problem. Unlike the viets on Earth who had to manually dig the holes and sharpen the stakes, which required time, manpower, and expertise, the elves could simply communicate with the forest and use magic to achieve this instantly.

Given the way the squad was treading cautiously this entire time, it was entirely likely that this trap was formed on the spot, the moment Makar began to press his foot down. Also, looking at the nature of the trap, it was meant to wound, harass, and waste time, and Draco could guess why since the elves were moving away and returning to the nursery area.

They were going to regroup and give this squad a very nice surprise up ahead!

Eventually, Makar got back to his feet after 15 minutes, his leg mostly fine and lightly bandaged. The team seemed to have realized that they were being purposefully delayed since the traps they countered were often more brutal than this.

Because of that, they could only interrupt the healing and push forward much faster, crossing the final 500 meters to the Hearth of Growth's boundary in 5 minutes. It even took so long because despite rushing, they still had to be cautious of more traps on the way.

When they arrived at the thick green walls of the nursery which was a mixture of thickened vines, natural shrubbery, and wall creepers, the squad was inevitably forced to stop, because they realized that they were viciously surrounded.

Elven warriors appeared on all sides, on top of branches, on the crowns of trees, crouched on the forest floor, or leaning against the bark. That wasn't even taking into account those from within the territory who were aiming outward with their bows already nocked and pulled.

The faces of the 1000th squad became grim.

"…We've been outplayed." Kalion muttered, which almost elicited a clap from Draco.

"What's the strategy then?" Mirakil quietly asked Kalion while gripping his two shortswords, his body tense.

"Kill and run. There is no winning this fight with our current configuration." Kalion stated honestly, which made the squad grimace.

The area became silent as both sides were ready to unleash death at the drop of a hat. Just as the tension rose to its peak and was about to erupt, a snide and slightly annoying voice spoke up.

"Gefum, gefum, greetings fellow friends of the long-eared clan. My name is Draco of the big dick clan, and I am here to grant your species the blessing of my ephemeral white juice."

Draco immediately stood out and said loudly, not at all pressured that all the weapons turned to point at him. At this range, even The Flash would be turned into a porcupine, especially since the elves possessed the surestrike ability with their arrows.

The tense squad was dumbfounded by the sudden change, wondering what this newbie was up to. Did he have some sort of plan to defuse the tension and let them escape with their lives unscathed?

"Sigh, would you believe it if I told you that I didn't plan for this? How can I, Draco the Great, a father and patriarch, tolerate the plan of harming young children just for war? Simply inconceivable!" Draco lamented openly.

Draco glanced at his squad whose faces began to darken as they seemed to understand what he was doing.

"I wanted to roleplay as a footsoldier for a bit longer, but it seems that the fates do not wish for me to do so. As such, I shall stop holding back." Draco revealed simply, showing a sincere smile.

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However, this smile preluded a big change in the fate of so many things. The Hearth of Growth, the Forest of Truth, the 1000th Squad, the Elves, the Wizard Realm, and especially, the War Maniac Pavilion!

"Muramasa Style: Life Severing Sword."

Suddenly, a deep voice resounded from both beside everyone and seemingly from afar, which caused the scene to seem very jarring and disingenuous. However, the reality was that a wave of sword light that was as thick as a sea swept over everyone in the area silent, not harming anything visibly.

Silence echoed loudly in this clearing before the Hearth of Growth, the once lively area full of life becoming an area of death.

Within this area, the bodies of everyone remained frozen on the spot, not having registered the change. The squad still wore ugly looks, the elves were still dumbfounded and unsure if they should drop their weapons and the shrubbery shuddered as the comforting breeze blew.

Yet in the next moment, all of this was proven to be a false reality as the bodies slowly turned to ash and disappeared into the wind, rendering a lively forest clearing into a zone of wilted death. The trees and plants remained standing, but their green-colored vibrancy was replaced by a dull grey hue as everything withered slightly.

The only thing still alive was Draco, who gripped a portion of the dark sword wave in between his two fingers, squeezing it slightly in order to crush it into nothingness as he turned to face where the slash came from.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

A familiar sound of footsteps echoed from the shadows of the trees in front of Draco, as a figure he had identified by the voice emerged from the depths slowly, coming to stand less than a hundred meters away from him.

The figure before him was a 6-foot-tall well built male who was muscular without being bulky, his fair-colored skin only shown from the tips of his fingers. The rest of his body was covered up, with an inner vest made of demon dragon scales while his main clothing was a pitch-black hakama that was tight fitting.

His arms and legs were wrapped with red bandages that tightened his sandals and also focused his black open-finger gloves. From his neck upward was a dark black ninja mask that covered up to his nose, only allowing one to get a glimpse of his eyes, since his head was covered with a dark-grey samurai hat.

More than the attire, there were two things that made the person stand out in Draco's eyes, the familiarity washing over him deeply.

The first was the famous sword by his waist, one that could cut through anything and everything.

The second was those pair of bright red eyes akin to a vampire's which showed intensity in their gaze upon him.

All of this culminated into a single word, a name that Draco had not uttered for years, a name he had almost forgotten.

"Shuro."

A crack seemed to occur as the mention of the name dispelled the remnant sword slash, causing light to return to the area and the trees to slowly recover despite the punishment they were dealt earlier.

However, the death of all living things from that slash was unrecoverable.

"Well, I didn't expect to see an old friend after so long. Why didn't you tell me you were paying a visit? Do you have new goods for me to buy?" Draco greeted genially, wearing a soft smile on his face.

Shuro lifted his head and glanced at the towering aura of blackness that erupted from Draco's body that threatened to consume the entire realm in his fury, then at the fellow's demeanor that hinted not a single ounce of anger, and sighed deeply.

"It was a mistake to come here, to leave the safety of the realm we hail from. There are many powerful beings that cannot stand your continued existence, wanting you dead at all costs. I am just the hand chosen to bring about that end." Shuro spoke in a deep East-Asian accent, lowering his head so as to conceal his eyes, allowing Draco only to see the brim of his hat.

"Oh? Can you elaborate then? A lot of time has passed, so I've forgotten those who hate me. Why don't you do me a pre-humous favor and enlighten me?" Draco asked with a look of interest.

Shuro was silent for a while and then spoke slowly. "That is acceptable. I too wish to share some things with you before we end things here, for it would cause me worry to end your life without you knowing why I am here."

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