The Elven Evolution: Starting With 1 Million SSSR Skills-Chapter 134: [] I Want Your Life

"At ease." The demonic merchant said to the guards, allowing them to finally relax.

They had been on edge from the moment Eliron stepped in, knowing that he could have ended their lives at any point.

After all, crushing a minor commander with such ease meant you were levels above them, to him, these guards would be no greater than fleas.

The demonic merchant knew that there was no hope if it came to a battle, and thankfully it had not come to that.

But if it had, then he would have immediately teleported away.

Over the years, his ability was the reason he had managed to live for this long without getting caught.

The merchant then turned around and left the room, moving into another room in the abandoned building, his most trusted guard following him in.

’I would have loved to do business with that wood elf...’ The merchant thought as he walked up to a mirror, staring at his image in it.

Blood was still dripping from the nasty wound on his shoulder, but the merchant seemed unbothered by it.

Regardless of his wishes, he had seen people like Eliron in the past, prodigies who defied the norm... individuals who shone so brightly that they attracted all sorts of trouble to themselves.

A boy of no more than eighteen had defeated a minor commander with ease, not only that, he was a wood elf, people who had been confined to the forests for decades.

There were so many red flags that she could cover the building with them and there would be more.

It was the makings of a heroic tale, one the demonic merchant wanted no part in.

Attention meant more eyes, more eyes meant trouble... and trouble was bad for business.

Although the business would have indeed been profitable, demonic merchants worked under secrecy, if he worked with him, he would undeniably bring trouble to him...

He was simply bad for business.

"And he had such good products...." He sighed.

His guard turned around, activating a device next to the door.

Immediately he did, the noise coming from the other side vanished, as the room was now soundproofed.

"Good products or not, Makoku, we could not possibly hope to refuse a deal with ’them...’" the guard said after he was done.

He walked up to him and placed a salve against the wound to soothe it.

"You have a point..."

Makoku had not even started business with him, and Eliron was already bringing all sorts of trouble to him...

If he had refused to sell him to the individuals who had visited him, then there was no telling to what extent they would go to see his ruin.

Especially considering that it was a high-ranking member of the faction who made the request...

Makoku sighed then adjusted his mask.

"Cancel any other meetings we have for today, that kid did a number on me, I can hardly move my arm..."

The guard bowed. "Yes my lord."

While watching his reflection in the mirror, his guard walked up to the door and pulled it open, but the moment he did, Makoku’s eyes widened.

"My lord?!" The guard screamed, drawing his sword.

"W-what the hell?!" Makoku exclaimed, unable to believe his eyes.

The merchant immediately sprinted out of the room, eyes wide as he stared at the gory scene in front of him.

The ground was caked in thick viscous blood, the smell of death lingering in the air like a miasma.

Lying on the floor were his elite guards, each of them slaughtered in a variety of creative ways.

One of the guards, the last one alive, was struggling underneath the boot of his assailant, tears rolling down his eyes.

All his limbs had already been hacked off, bathing the attacker in blood.

He lifted his naginata, just before plunging it into the guard’s head, splitting his skull apart.

"Ahh, it looks like I went a little too far..." a deep voice came as the man stepped off the body.

He had a great sword in his hand bathed with blood and gore, a bright smile on his face amidst the ghastly scene.

"These fools refused to tell me where you were despite my polite questioning, it’s only natural that I got angry right?"

"Balak." Makoku said coldly.

The mercenary leader and his group had indiscriminately slaughtered every single one of his people.

Although Makoku wanted to know why, and how he had even found this place, he knew that he would not be getting any answers from the brute.

Makoku immediately glanced at the guard next to him, his eyes sharp.

"Come!"

Without wasting a second, the guard dashed to him, clinging onto his shoulder.

Bright blue mana immediately flared around Makoku, consuming them whole as Makoku tried to activate his teleportation spell.

But suddenly—

Crack!

His spell suddenly fell apart, the mana around him shattering like glass.

’What is going on? Why can’t I gather my mana?’

"My lord?!" His guard called out, sounding panicked.

Makoku glanced up only to see a demonic eye glaring down at him.

’An artefact?’

The eye was wrapped up in multiple golden chains that jiggled softly, horrid runic markings encasing the entire body.

"Don’t tell me..."

"How do you like the gift our friends gave us?" Balak laughed as he walked towards him. "Handy isn’t it?"

The mercenaries chuckled, their gazes locked on the two of them.

Makoku took a step back, his gaze growing cold.

"Get away from my lord!" His guard barked, charging forward with his sword.

Swish!

Without any effort, Balak cleaved the man in two. The guard’s eyes widened just as life fled them, two dismembered parts falling to the floor to join the multitude of bodies.

"Hehehe, demonic blinking merchant they said." Balak mocked as he walked closer to Makoku.

"Take away the teleportation and what are you? What can you do without your best spell?!"

"Tch." Makoku hissed. "How about I show you, fucker?"

Makoku dug his hands into his robe, smoothly pulling out a hidden dagger. Then he charged at Balak, his eyes locked on his neck.

"That’s the spirit, entertain me!"

Swoosh!

Balak swung his massive sword, the blade pulling air from the sheer force of the strike.

Makoku saw the sword flash in his vision, seconds away from ripping his skull apart when he weaved away from the strike.

He pivoted, the muscles of his leg contracting as he sprang at Balak’s neck, slashing with desperation.

But the burly man drove his elbow into the inner part of his arm, knocking his hand back, then moving at breathtaking speed, he drove his knee into his gut.

Bang!

Makoku felt his insides cry out to him as spittle spewed out of his mouth.

Swish!

The sword came next, a horizontal swipe meant to cleave his head clean off.

Makoku recovered quickly, jumping back just as the sword sliced past, slicing off a pillar.

’I need to find a way to escape!’

Makoku was not a swordsman, without the ability to use his magic, it was only a matter of time before he was crushed!

His eyes darted from place to place, looking for a possible escape route, but the mercenaries sealed all of them off.

"Don’t be a wimp now, bring it on, demon!"

Balak charged at Makoku in a frenzy, mad with murderous intent.

Although he was missing an arm, he seemed even more fierce than he had previously been.

Makoku raised his dagger to defend, but this time the force of the blow sent the dagger flying out of his hand and digging into the wall.

"Shit!"

He raised his arms to block, just as a heavy kick exploded into his guard, sending him slamming into the opposite wall.

Blood dripped out of his mouth from behind the mask, falling down to the floor as Balak stepped up to him, his sword raised high.

"W-what do you w-want?" The blinking merchant managed to say, his heart racing in his chest.

"Ahh, nothing much... just your life..."

His eyes widened, the broadsword speedily approaching— the blade reflecting in his iris.

Swish!

The sword came down, sending blood gushing out in waves.