Love Letter From The Future-Chapter 345: Bread and Dagger (43)

Metal danced with metal.

With each spark that flew, blood and screams joined the symphony. The spurting blood gradually stained the cold snowfield a deep red.

The elven soldiers couldn’t put up any resistance against me.

Even if they somehow deflected my first strike, they usually fell to the follow-up attack. In fact, many couldn’t even exchange a single blow with me.

It was because of the poor quality of their weapons.

Some elves lost their lives when their swords were completely cut through. As there were plenty of soldiers wielding equipment made of wood rather than metal.

Their gear was closer to that of a militia than a formal army representing their race.

Even calling them an ‘army’ felt like a stretch since they looked more like a group of bandits.

Still, seemingly using equipment looted from humans, there were a few relatively skilled elves who stepped up to block my path.

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But even they could only delay me by a few seconds.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

My sword hammered against an elf’s blade in rapid succession. It only took three exchanges, but with each strike, the elf visibly staggered.

The outcome was obvious.

Finding an opening, I pierced the elf’s heart with a swift thrust.

As I withdrew my blade, a gush of blood spewed forth. The elf tried to resist, clutching at my blade to the bitter end, but its flesh was far too frail against my aura.

I must have killed over a dozen by now.

It was a better result than I’d expected. If I could achieve this much on my own, the hundreds of elven raiders would be dealt with in no time.

More importantly, my companions had begun to actively join the fray.

“O’Light, engulf!”

Crackle—white electric currents began to surge.

As they began to flood the area, the elves screamed and convulsed. The elf mages belatedly tried to counter, but Senior Elsie was among the top-tier mages.

Taking advantage of the moment they were paralyzed, Yuren and I swept through the battlefield.

The elves with contracted muscles were, ironically, trickier to cut through, their rigid stiffness making them harder to cleave. Of course, even that posed no obstacle for experts like Yuren and me.

Meanwhile, the princess was also making a steady contribution.

“O stars, O light, paths of truth emerging from beyond hazy dreams... become a torrential downpour and strike the world. Banquet of Stars!”

Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she managed to complete the incantation somehow.

The impact it brought was immense.

Like candles being lit, blue mana orbs began to align in the sky. Their numbers grew one by one, until there were dozens in total.

Some elves sensed something was amiss, but it was already too late by then.

The light bombs rained down like a torrential storm.

Each time one of them exploded, a deafening boom erupted,the ground overturned and a few nearby elves screamed and collapsed.

Among them, there were those who even had one or two limbs torn off.

I could see the Princess in the distance, her face pale as a sheet. She was staggering, almost retching.

It must have been because the horrific scene she created was too much for her to bear.

And it was understandable.

It wasn’t just snow and dirt that scattered.

Flesh, blood, dismembered limbs without owners, and heads that glared at me as if cursing me to their very last moment.

Is this hell?

For a moment, I recalled Venetta’s forceful argument—her maddened voice proclaiming that life was a prison and death the only liberation.

I could sympathize a little.

Just a very little, though.

Gritting my teeth, I plunged deeper into the elf’s formation, aiming to entirely break their front line.

That’s when I noticed a shift in the atmosphere.

The moment I took a step forward, I felt the elves retreat in perfect unison.

Before long, the area around me became empty. The soldiers who were supposed to hold the line had stepped back, leaving me no choice but to halt.

No, actually, there was another reason I stopped.

A few figures were approaching with peculiar strides.

Though they were clearly walking, no footprints were left in the snow-covered ground.

Their footwork was very unusual, one that I’d never seen, even at the academy. I stood there blankly, facing three or four elves coming my way.

Before I knew it, Yuren had caught up to me.

He seemed to sense the same unease I did.

He briefly paused, observing the elven swordsmen’s gait with an intrigued gaze.

“What do you think? Any idea what’s going on?”

“Not exactly sure, but I think I’ve heard about this. Back when we were in full-scale war with the elves, there were those who could roll over puddles without leaving a ripple.”

Even hearing it casually, it didn’t sound like an ordinary feat.

Hah, I let out a half-hearted laugh.

“Sounds like they’ll be a bit of a hassle to deal with?”

“Maybe if you were alone.”

Thump, Yuren gave me a light pat on the shoulder.

Then he flashed his trademark combative grin.

“Wanna see who can take down more?”

“Not a bad i-dea...!”

It was an unsettling remark, one that made light of life, but I deliberately chose not to call him out on it.

Doing so seemed like the only way to keep myself calm.

The moment I kicked off the ground, the world seemed to split apart. At the end of the frozen time, I was already standing in front of the elven swordfighter, my sword already drawn.

Come to think of it, the elven soldiers had mentioned something before.

They said to call in the ‘swordfighters.’

It seemed the elves had a special title, for those who wielded swords. They certainly had an unusual aura befitting to warrant such a unique title.

Even though they were right in front of me, it felt as if their very existence was blurred.

Like fog.

Like a streak of light, a silvery aura slashes through the air. My blade cut swiftly from the upper left to the lower right—a strike so fast that ordinary soldiers wouldn’t have even had time to react.

But the swordfighters were different.

One of them effortlessly slid back, as if gliding, and immediately countered with a thrust precisely aimed at my opening.

Of course, no matter how fast he was, his speed couldn’t compare to my reflexes.

I dodged it effortlessly and was about to deliver a fatal blow when—

A sudden, strange sense of unease registered in my senses.

It was a kind of intuition—a warning that went beyond sight.

At that moment, my body hesitated and shifted.

I went as far as abandoning the perfect opportunity to slit his throat, veering far off course to dodge the swordfighter’s thrust by a considerable margin.

His blade shouldn’t have even grazed me.

Yet with a swish, I felt the faint sensation of my clothes being nicked.

I let out an incredulous laugh.

There were two blades.

I couldn’t fathom the mechanism behind it. But to avoid giving him any more openings, I charged forward.

Once again, the blades came slashing toward me with sudden, ferocious speed.

Having over-rotated, I had unintentionally given the elf a chance to recover his stance. I intercepted one of his blades with my sword.

A barely perceptible blade shattered, only for a metal blade to come hurtling toward me immediately after.

But the elven swordfighter had overlooked one crucial fact: I too had another weapon.

The hand I’d deliberately kept free drew my hatchet like lightning.

Clang! Sparks flew as the elf’s sword was sent flying into the air, unable to withstand the sudden impact.

For the first time, the swordfighter, who had remained stoic all along, widened his eyes in surprise.

That was his final expression.

Thud! My hatchet came crashing down and split his skull.

I checked on the remaining swordfighters.

Yuren had claimed another head, leaving three left, two of them rushing towards me.

There was no need to directly engage with their peculiar swordsmanship.

Gritting my teeth, I hurled my hatchet.

Thunk!, the recoil sent ripples through the air. The rapidly flying hatchet hammered against the swords of the two elven swordfighters in succession.

Clang! Clang!

And as the spinning hatchet soared through the air, I felt grateful that my opponents were elves.

After all, they probably wouldn’t have heard the rumors about my dancing hatchet.

With a *thwack,*it  came crashing down and, like firewood, sliced through one of the elven swordfighter.

Startled by the display of my skill, the remaining one froze in shock, and I took the opportunity to throw my sword—a move I hadn’t used in a long time.

Tearing through the air, the blade rushed towards him.

The elven swordfighter, alarmed, managed to deflect it. His gaze lingered on it for a moment, wary that it might exhibit another bizarre trajectory mid-air.

But it was taboo to take your eyes off your opponent in a duel between skilled fighters.

Wham! My kick, delivered immediately after the tossed sword, struck him squarely on the  solar plexus.

He staggered back, coughing up blood. As he hunched over, I swept down and grabbed the hatchet embedded in the ground.

That marked the prelude to the final exchange.

As the swordfighter swung his blade wildly in desperation, I closed the distance by lunging forward. Being shorter than a sword, the hatchet gave me the advantage the closer I got

Just like now.

Thwack! An upward strike from my hatchet cleanly shattered the swordfighter’s jaw.

The silence that followed was brief.

He collapsed with a thud, and the series of battles came to an end.

Yuren was a few seconds late in finishing off his opponent.

He scratched his head irritably.

“Ah, using the hatchet is cheating...”

“If you’ve got a problem with it, why don’t you get one yourself?”

We were bantering, but I still didn’t feel good.

It was the first time I’d taken so many lives.

Not of monsters, but of sentient beings.

Honestly, I just wanted to drown myself in alcohol and pass out.

But there’s no time for grief on the battlefield.

I could feel new presences approaching—more elven swordfighters.

Just how many of them were there?

As I felt a throbbing headache coming on,

“Go on ahead.”

Yuren nonchalantly told me.

I glanced over at him. My friend let out a short chuckle.

“We made a bet, didn’t we? So while I keep these guys busy, as always, go take care of their strongest.”

I looked back.

A few soldiers were cautiously approaching Yuren and me. But behind them, Sir Alex led  the Yurdina soldiers in a relentless charge.

They’d be swept away by that overwhelming force before long.

All Yuren needed to do was hold out for a bit.

We had a chance.

Instead of replying, I gave a single nod. Yuren silently stood there, holding his sword.

It was now time to kick off the ground and dash forward.

Perhaps because I’d already dug my way deep into their ranks, there were no soldiers blocking my path.

Archers and mages tried to be a nuisance, but the battle was as good as over the  moment they allowed a swordsman to reach their rear lines.

It wasn’t long before I came face to face with an old man.

The elves were a race that remained eternally young.

They didn’t age until right before death.

So who is this old man?

Could he be a corpse on the verge of death?

With his hunched back and frail frame, he certainly looked the part. His joints were twisted from malnutrition.

He probably couldn’t even move without the cane he was leaning on

As I hesitated for a moment, the old man gave a gentle smile.

It was a cheerful grin.

“Welcome, young one... I was fully prepared, but I never anticipated a variable like this.”

“Bread for bread, dagger for dagger.”

At the proverb I threw out, the old man’s eyes grew curious.

He waited for my next words as if amused. Taking a deep breath, I pointed my sword at him.

“I’ve heard it’s an old elven saying... Looks like it’s my turn to return the dagger, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

At that moment, the old man tossed his cane to the ground.

The staff rolled away with a pitiful clatter. I looked at the elven elder with confusion.

Wasn’t he a mage?

“Bread for bread, dagger for dagger... It’s an old saying of ours. But consider it from a different perspective—consider how many daggers we’ve been forced to endure.”

That’s when I noticed something strange.

With a crack, the old man’s hunched back straightened.

Crunch, snap, crackle.

With each sound of bones realigning, his frame grew larger. The clothes that once seemed loose on him now looked uncomfortably tight.

And then, rip—they burst apart.

It was because his muscles continued to swell.

In no time, the once small and frail old man transformed into a muscular giant over two meters tall.

I’d seen something like this before.

As white fur began to grow over his body and his once lucid eyes turned blood-red with a feral gleam.

An involuntary curse slipped from my lips.

“Oh, for fuck’s sak...”

A demonic human.

I couldn’t help but recall memories from the orphanage.

Those were some seriously messed-up memories.

And today, it seemed another scar would be etched onto that wound.