Chapter 165: Settle the scores

The carriage rattled slightly as it left the smooth, paved roads of the Duchy and moved onto a much steeper, more rugged path.

Inside the spacious cabin, the atmosphere was a mix of quiet composure and obvious disappointment.

Malrik sat comfortably across from Eliza, whose posture was as still and composed as ever. Beside her, Vexia sat with her arms crossed and a deep frown on her face.

Her excitement outside the treasury had completely evaporated the moment Malrik emerged and showed them what he had chosen.

Instead of an ancient spellbook or a rare magical ingredient, he had returned with a dilapidated, burnt piece of trash that looked as though it would crumble into dust at the slightest touch.

To a magic enthusiast like Vexia, it was a staggering disappointment.

Outside the cabin, the rest of the commanders had made themselves comfortable on the roof of the carriage. Ren, Zane, Jax, and Ronan sat atop it, enjoying the rushing wind, while Orren sat silently beside the driver up front.

The driver was a young man, roughly Malrik’s age, dressed in simple clothes and wearing a worn cap pulled low over his eyes.

It was Colin, the very same driver who had transported Malrik from the Duchy to the Blackthorn Barony during his Banner Bearer trial.

When Malrik had first stepped out of the estate and recognized him, he had made sure to ask how the young man was doing. Colin had been thrilled that a noble of Malrik’s stature actually remembered his name.

He proudly explained that, thanks to the generous reward Eliza had given him last time, he had been able to purchase this brand-new, luxurious carriage.

It was a massive upgrade. Drawn by four powerful, muscular horses instead of his old two, the new carriage was sturdier, significantly faster, and built to handle harsh terrain without sacrificing comfort.

They were heading in the exact same direction they had taken before, traveling along the route that bordered the Bloodmire Forest. However, this time, the journey was entirely different.

The carriage moved at a blistering pace, and for three straight hours, not a single Morveth dared to intercept them.

The forest was eerily quiet.

It seemed the beasts lurking in the tree line possessed enough primal instinct to sense the aura radiating from the vehicle.

None of them dared to approach it, let alone interrupt its path.

Finally, the carriage began to slow down, the horses coming to a smooth halt.

"We’ve arrived, my lord," Colin announced respectfully from the driver’s seat. "This is where we camped last time, just as you instructed."

The cabin door opened, and Malrik stepped down onto the dirt path. His movements were calm and unhurried, but the lingering neutrality on his face had vanished. In its place was a freezing, predatory glint that sharpened his eyes.

"Thank you, Colin," Malrik said smoothly.

He then turned his gaze to Eliza, who had stepped out behind him, and looked up at the six commanders who were already dropping down from the roof.

"Wait for me here," Malrik ordered firmly. "I will go in alone."

The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere shifted. Several brows furrowed, and clear signs of discontent spread through the warband.

Eliza’s jaw tightened slightly, though she maintained her silence.

Seeing their reluctance, Malrik offered a faint, confident smile.

"Do not worry. Just trust me. It won’t take long." He shifted his gaze to the stoic man standing near the front of the carriage. "Orren, you are in charge of everyone in my absence."

Orren remained silent for a long moment, his sharp eyes studying Malrik as he took in the young Baron’s steady posture and unwavering confidence.

"Yes, my lord," Orren finally replied, bowing his head slightly. "I trust you."

Without another word, Malrik turned away from the carriage. He stepped off the dirt path and crossed the tree line, his figure quickly swallowed by the dark depths of the Bloodmire Forest.

Malrik ventured deep into the Bloodmire Forest, his hands resting casually in his coat pockets. His confident strides betrayed not a hint of hesitation. It was as if he were taking a stroll through his estate’s gardens rather than navigating one of the most dangerous, monster-infested territories.

It took only a few seconds for the forest to sense the intruder’s presence. Morveth beasts began pouring out from between the suffocating trees and dense shadows, rushing toward him from every direction.

Their shapes and sizes varied grotesquely; some resembled slithering lizards, some were massive wild boars, and others possessed twisted, deformed limbs.

Yet they all shared one unmistakable trait, visible even from a distance. Their eyes glowed a fierce, glassy red, the mark of creatures that had lost their minds and devolved into frenzied beasts driven by nothing but instinct.

Malrik stopped in his tracks, sweeping a cold, emotionless gaze over the charging pack, and muttered in a low voice, "I don’t have time to play with you."

The moment those words left his lips, the air around him vibrated. Behind him, the forest floor suddenly lit up with a silent explosion of mana, tearing the fabric of reality to reveal dozens of complex summoning circles that glowed a dark, near-black green.

One after another, nightmarish creatures emerged from the circles and stepped onto the forest floor.

Massive black shadow wolves appeared, followed by giant spiders, and numerous other predatory creatures whose souls Malrik had harvested during his previous bloody journey to the Blackthorn Barony. Over two hundred spectral entities were now gathered in absolute silence, standing behind him like a sea of darkness ready to swallow anything that stood in its path.

Right beside Malrik, two significantly larger and denser circles formed.

From the first circle rose an enormous black wolf. Its jaws armed with terrifying fangs capable of crushing steel like brittle twigs.

From the second circle materialized a nightmarish hybrid creature: its lower half the body of a giant spider, and its upper half a human woman with cold, deadly features and glowing green eyes.

They stood in perfect formation, their glowing green eyes fixed on the Morveth ahead, awaiting a single command to tear their master’s enemies apart.

Malrik looked at the red pack that had suddenly halted, seemingly realizing that they were no longer the predators, but the prey.

"Annihilate them."

The word left Malrik’s lips quiet and calm, but to the souls standing behind him... it was an absolute command to open the gates of hell upon their master’s enemies.

Instantly, the army of souls erupted from their positions. The undead souls bypassed Malrik in successive waves of darkness, savagely descending upon any creature in their path.

The shadow wolves engaged like a black storm, tearing out throats and crushing the bones of the lizards before the latter could even comprehend what was happening.

On the other flank, the giant spiders wove their acidic, venomous webs with blinding speed, paralyzing the wild boars and twisted creatures, before sinking their fangs into their bodies to melt them alive.

As for Fenrir and the Spider Queen, they tore through the enemy ranks like two scythes harvesting wheat. Using fangs and claws, they left nothing in their wake but blood, severed limbs, and dissolving corpses.

By no measure was this a battle; it was simply a one-sided massacre.

All of the souls Malrik had currently summoned were at the Awakened Rank, at Level 49, just like him. Most possessed Rare Potential, while Fenrir and the Spider Queen possessed Epic Potential.

Faced with this overwhelming force, annihilating the feral Morveth pack took no more than a few minutes.

Meanwhile, Malrik stood calmly in his new armor, [Pride’s Burden], its dark leather wrapping around his body and lending him an imposing presence. In his right hand, he held his new spear, [Broken Yard]. Both were masterpieces forged by the rude dwarf, Grandmaster Bromur.

From the dense trees of the forest, a massive black snake lunged from Malrik’s left side, attempting to catch him off guard.

But Malrik had sensed its presence long before it moved. Thanks to the multiplied stats he had acquired from Lokris, he moved in the blink of an eye, plunging the gray blade of [Broken Yard] directly into the beast’s skull.

The spear pierced the snake’s skull in a fraction of a second, ending its frenzy as a few drops of blood splattered across Malrik’s face.

Malrik did not care. He calmly pulled his spear from the shattered skull, wiped the splattered blood from his face with the back of his hand, and lifted his gaze toward the dark depths from which these maddened beasts had poured out.

"Let us continue."

Malrik pressed deeper into the Bloodmire Forest, his expression cold and unreadable. Behind him, his army of souls followed in absolute silence, disappearing one by one into the dark depths of the forest.