The Elven Evolution: Starting With 1 Million SSSR Skills-Chapter 97: [] Broken Chains

Lord Galanhad was in his office. The windows were tightly shut, creating a dark environment, absent of light.

But it was only for a few seconds, as suddenly, his mana flared.

The steamy white mana flooded the entirety of the room, crashing against the walls and seeking space to expand, but he kept it together.

Galanhad was floating from the ground, cross-legged as he focused on gathering mana.

He remained like this for hours, then hours turned to days.

His pale blonde hair was soaked with sweat, making it clump to his skin, and his golden eyes were weary.

Cracks began to form on his walls, his mana no longer wishing to be contained, but Galanhad kept it in place, disciplining the flow.

After about a week, the mana finally began to settle down, and Galanhad’s foot gracefully touched the ground.

When he opened his eyes, now that his mana was low, there was a swirling dark energy dancing around him like a serpent.

Galanhad smiled wide.

"Hello there... my friend."

He brought his finger to the tip of the energy, and then he tapped it.

The moment he did, he felt a jolt run through his spine, but did not show any outward reaction.

He was used to this.

He was used to the thrill.

And he loved it...

The dark mana flooded his body like water through an open dam. In less than five seconds, everything was gone.

Drakili’s golden eyes turned an eerie black, red slit pupils pulsing within them.

He took in a deep breath, and then it vanished, his eyes and demeanour returning to normal.

"Phew!" He sighed, then clapped his hands. "It’s time to eat!"

Galanhad picked up his robes and exited his office, walking into the large hallway of his palace.

As he was walking, a man joined him. He had short, messy blonde hair, crimson eyes, and a vibrant aura.

"Lord Galanhad."

Galanhad barely spared the man a glance. "General Haland, how might I help you?"

"There is something you need to see," he said curtly.

"Hmm? Is it that important?" Lord Galanhad rubbed his belly, a small frown on his face.

"It is, my lord."

"Argh." Galanhad rolled his eyes. "Alright, let’s go... but I swear, if it is nothing, I’ll have you boiled and stewed today."

Unlike most elves who would shake at the mere mention of the lord’s name, Haland just sighed as he led them to the room.

Galanhad stepped into the place and frowned, looking around.

There was a human maid there, a slave he had acquired a few years ago. This woman was in charge of cleaning up his personal belongings.

"So? What is it?"

The woman kept her gaze down. "M-my lord, tis’ the s-second shelf...."

"Huh? What are you talking abou—" Galanhad froze when he saw what she meant.

There were two gourds on the shelf, each one filled with water and bathed with runic symbols etched in blood.

These gourds were the link between his slaves and him.

One was for his favourite toy, Sabrina, while the other was for his wyvern, a gift from the chancellor!

But now, those gourds had shattered to pieces. His connection with his slaves had been severed.

"What the fuck did you do?!"

Lord Galanhad’s mood did a three-sixty.

"M-MY LORD, I DIDN’T!" She panicked. "This was how I..."

Squish!

Before she could finish speaking, Galanhad’s hand cut through her head, popping out the other side.

The woman’s hands fell limply just before her body slipped down from his hand and crumpled on the floor.

Haland just glanced at her and sighed. "Did you have to do that? I kind of liked that one."

"This is no time to discuss who you like to whore around with, brother," Galanhad hissed.

He had sent the wyvern because he felt it was more efficient to let it wreak havoc on the village rather than send mercenaries again.

That way, if the matter was brought before the international court, they could claim the wyvern was a natural disaster.

How then did things end up like this?!

The broken gourd meant one of two things. His slaves had either been killed in battle or somehow set free.

The slave collar was made of admanitium. There was nothing those laggards could even do to scratch its surface.

The wyvern, on the other hand, was bound with strong dark magic.

Galanhad felt his blood boil.

’They must have been killed... but how??’

Was the spy right when he said their lord had awakened a divine ascension?

’No... even if he awakened a divine ascension, he would need ten years at least to match Sabrina.’

She might have been a disgusting halfbreed, but she still had a tainted version of high elven blood running through her veins.

’Sabrina must have found a way to kill herself and my pet!’ Galanhad concluded.

He knew just how much the imbecile was enticed by the very notion of dying, like a moth to the flame...

"I miscalculated," Galanhad said out loud, regretting his decision.

Not only had he lost a gift from the queen, he had also lost a well-sharpened tool, all because of those wood elves.

"What are your orders? Should we send some more mercs?" Haland asked lazily while scratching his ear.

Then a dark smile appeared on his lips as his hand graced his katana. "Or should I go there myself?"

Galanhad shook his head. "We can’t. We need all our forces here for now."

Haland frowned. "Why?"

His brother stared at him, the look in his eyes serious. "We have a visitor... a man who has sworn to slay all twelve titans."

He paused and wiped the blood on the wall.

"His name is Adonis, the celestial knight."

Outside the region, a man riding a white horse stopped some distance away from the large gates of the region.

He was wearing a pure golden helmet. His white armour was gleaming like a beacon, and he had a greatsword strapped to his back.

Out of his helmet spilled locks of pure white hair that fell past his shoulders.

"Stop!" A bandit barked as they raised their swords, a feral look in their eyes.

These bandits were criminals who would wait for traveling high elves to pass so that they could rob them blind.

But today, they landed on something even more valuable.

"That helmet of yers, do my eyes deceive me, or is that gold?" He jeered.

The other bandits cackled, while others licked their lips.

The man jumped down, his armour clanging as he did.

Step!

"Come on, be a good boy and strip for us!"

The man grabbed the hilt of his sword and raised it, not bothering to unsheathe the blade.

"What do you think you—"

There was a white flash, accompanied by a wave of dust.

When the dust cleared, it revealed the floor littered with the corpses of mercenaries. Every single one of them was killed by a single slash.

Blood fell from the sky like rain as he strapped the sword to his back.

"Was that really necessary, Adonis?" A voice came from the side.

Adonis turned in the direction of the voice to see a woman nestled in the shadows.

She was in pure black leather armour, and her short sword was already drawn.

Adonis frowned. "There is no mercy in my heart for scum..."