The first elf turned to flee, followed by a second, then a third, until soon, panic spread through their ranks, and they all began to scatter.
Oliver, watching from his concealed position, noted the elf in heavy armor, still pinned to the ground by his iron arrow, struggling futilely. He had been unable to move since the shot, a powerful reminder of Oliver's skill.
Yet the other elves nearby hesitated, their eyes filled with distrust. Even the village chief, who had initially responded to his teacher's call, couldn't be expected to trust a human who had appeared so suddenly and briefly.
If they managed to escape now, Oliver would lose control of the situation entirely. He couldn't survey the dense foliage to see how many had fled or where they might regroup.
'Let them wait,' he thought, deciding to hold his ground for now. If he kept them there, it would prevent the leader from using them as leverage against him.
"There's no rush," he muttered, unaware that news of his exploits had already spread among the elves, though fortunately, they hadn't yet considered using it to threaten him.
Perhaps his luck was at work in ways he couldn't fully grasp.
---
Meanwhile, a group of elves sprinted through the trees, their hearts racing.
"What's going on? Why is it so quiet now?" one elf asked, quickening his pace as he sensed the urgency around him. The shadows ahead suggested reinforcements were nearing.
"I don't know, but that armor is thick. He shouldn't have been defeated so easily," replied another elf beside him.
"True, but if it's that human, known for his powerful archery, that armor might not hold up," the first elf countered.
"But this is our advantage! With so many of us, he can't possibly take us all down at once," said the second, his confidence unwavering.
"Right," came the curt reply, as the elf quickened his steps, eager to join the fray.
---
After setting his traps, Oliver wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling the tension in the air. Unlike the elves, who primarily used cold weapons, he preferred explosive traps, powerful and effective, covering for his current lack of magical abilities.
He had only faced a handful of enemies so far, and they had just scattered, but he knew that would soon change. The remaining elves, skeptical about their leader's fate, would likely regroup and come after him.
'Almost ready,' he thought, glancing into the forest as he quickly dismantled the iron bow he had assembled earlier.
---
Just outside the dense shadows, the remaining elves cautiously emerged into the open grassland. They paused, their eyes falling on the lone axe lying on the ground, the one thrown earlier but never retrieved.
"It seems the reports were accurate," the front elf declared, his voice steady but cautious. He took careful steps forward, his attention focused on the axe. "The enemy is indeed formidable, but he can only target a limited number of us at once. We need to stick together. As long as we remain united, we won't fall one by one."
A soft 'tsk' broke the stillness, echoing from somewhere in the shadows. The elf, ignoring the sound, continued toward the axe, hoping to glean some information. The others followed closely behind, their curiosity piqued.
All of this unfolded before Oliver, who crouched silently in the bushes, ready to assess his next move.
Oliver had remained unseen for a long time, keeping a low profile and never drawing attention to his skills in front of other elves. So how had they gotten hold of his information so easily?
What he didn't know was that his own teacher had casually revealed his talents, all to make the situation more convincing. The village chief, half-asleep one night, mumbled something about "someone inheriting my archery skills" a tidbit that had now found its way to these elves.
If Oliver knew, he'd be furious.
As the elf approached the axe, Oliver observed the formation. Undoubtedly, the magicians in the group had already deployed elemental shields, rendering attacks from a certain range ineffective. But Oliver's teacher had taught him well. Even if an explosion couldn't completely break a shield, it could cause enough interference to weaken it. A shield impacted from multiple angles, especially one cast manually, wouldn't stand up to sustained attacks.
While arrows lacking significant magical power couldn't penetrate these shields, other methods were fair game. And Oliver had those up his sleeve.
The elves he had just faced earlier had similar protections, but the moment their high-defense armor was pierced, their will to fight crumbled. For a long-lived race, even seasoned elves feared death.
Now, in the distance, Oliver's trap lay in wait; a thin silver thread tied between two blades of wild grass, ready to be triggered by the slightest movement or even a passing breeze. The elves ahead had no idea what he'd done. The air was still tense with uncertainty, neither side sure who held the advantage.
There was also the matter of the unconscious grandson, the one who'd overheard the village chief's secrets. He'd been knocked out at the start, and Oliver was prepared to take him down if he showed any signs of waking. After all, as a healer, the elf would likely suffer no lasting injuries.
Just as Oliver positioned himself to step on the thread and activate his trap, a shout rang out from the other side.
"Wait! Something's wrong!"
The other elves turned to look at the speaker, their faces puzzled. "What do you mean, what's the problem?"
"I'm not sure, but it feels like... there's something ahead that could trigger an attack." His words were hesitant, but they immediately put the others on edge.
'Is it a blessing that allows him to sense the future?' Oliver thought, surprised. Such blessings were incredibly rare among elves, especially those not centered around healing. Historically, future-predicting abilities were even more uncommon.
However, the elf's vision wasn't detailed. If he truly understood the danger, he would've called for a retreat, but it was clear that he hadn't grasped the full scope of what lay ahead.
'If they don't trigger it themselves, can't I?' Oliver smirked.
Without hesitation, he crawled out from the bushes, raised his longbow, and aimed at the delicate silk thread. His fingers released, and the arrow flew straight toward the trap.
Some of the elves reacted, but under the false confidence of their magic shield, they didn't bother to dodge. They hadn't expected Oliver to be aiming for anything other than them.
Just as a few of them were about to laugh at his supposed poor aim, a deafening explosion ripped through the clearing. The initial blast wasn't particularly powerful on its own, but the chain reaction that followed was devastating.
One explosion after another erupted from the ground, sending flames and debris soaring into the air. The repeated impacts overwhelmed the magic shields, which had been hastily erected by only a few elves.
The smoke billowed, thick and choking, blinding those caught within it. As the explosions continued, the remaining magicians scrambled to summon new shields, but it was already too late.
The chaos was everywhere.