Dark Warlock in the Apocalypse

"Grrrr!"

With a gurgle of blood and a last, rattling breath, the third leader collapsed to the ground. His eyes remained wide open in disbelief, as if he couldn't accept his own death. Ethan wiped the blood from his sword with a satisfied grin, clearly pleased with its performance.

"All done," Ethan said, stepping back from the lifeless body.

"Good work," Justin replied, giving a nod of approval. "Now, let's move on to the next task."

"What should we do with the dungeon rewards the first group had?" Ethan asked, glancing at the loot they had gathered.

Surprisingly, the only group that had any dungeon rewards among the attackers had been the first one. The other two groups carried nothing more than items from standard shops. Perhaps they had already lost their rewards to someone else, or maybe they never undertook any dungeon quests in the first place. It was a bit disappointing, but the ease of their victory made up for the lack of valuable loot.

"Anything useful?" Justin inquired.

"A staff for mages and a two-handed sword for warriors," Ethan replied, looking over the gear. "The staff boosts energy-based spells, and the sword is surprisingly light despite its size."

Justin considered the items for a moment. "Not bad," he thought, though neither seemed to have much use within their group. He already had a better staff, and Derek was the only one who wielded two-handed weapons, preferring his hammer, which suited his brute strength and style far better.

After a brief pause, Justin turned to Zachary. "Give the staff to Nina. She pulled her weight in this fight and deserves a reward."

"Understood. What about the sword?" Zachary asked.

"Distribute it to whoever performed well in this battle. If anyone wants it, let them have it," Justin replied. He saw no point in hoarding an item no one would use. Instead, he could use it to boost morale as a special reward.

Zachary nodded, already planning who might get it. "I'll hold onto it until after the test ends."

"Do that," Justin agreed. "Now that we've finished the distribution, let's get back to work."

With a final order, Justin directed the group to gather the bodies from the third skirmish. When they were done, they had accumulated a total of 51 corpses. It was a number that would have convinced anyone a small-scale military battle had taken place.

"Man, looking at all of them in one place... This is insane," Derek commented, glancing over the piles of bodies. "If they start rotting, the stench will be unbearable."

"That's why we'll finish before then," Justin replied calmly. They had about half a day left to gather the markers, and after three battles, their time was running even shorter. They wouldn't be around long enough to worry about the decay of the corpses.

Once the task was complete, Derek dusted his hands off and asked, "So, is that everything? Are we done?"

"Yeah, for now. We can rest here for a while," Justin said.

"Rest? In the middle of a pile of bodies? Isn't that going to be mentally exhausting?" Ethan asked, frowning slightly.

"It's not ideal, but we don't have time to worry about that," Justin replied, his voice practical and direct.

Nearby, Fafnir gave a low, irritated growl, clearly unimpressed with the complaints. It seemed as if the dragon was annoyed by how much noise they were making over something as trivial as a few dead bodies. After all, as a dark dragon, such sights likely didn't bother him at all. Justin chuckled as he reached out to pat Fafnir's head, appreciating his companion's indifference.

Just then, a sharp voice cut through the air. "My lord! More enemies are approaching!"

"…!" Justin and the others immediately jumped to their feet. Sure enough, another group was advancing on them from the distance. Judging by their numbers, it seemed like two groups had joined forces.

Justin grinned, gripping his staff. 'What perfect timing,' he thought. They had just finished their work, and now a new set of opponents arrived, likely thinking they had the upper hand. Little did they know.

"Everyone, prepare for battle!" Justin commanded.

Though he had no intention of launching an attack just yet, he wanted to make it clear that his group was ready for a fight. With the battlefield littered with corpses and their group showing no hesitation, how would the enemy react? Justin was eager to find out.

The tension in the air was thick as Victor looked down at the scene below. Bodies—so many bodies—were scattered across the blood-soaked ground. Some were relatively intact, but others were so mangled they were almost unrecognizable.

"Ugh…" one of his subordinates gagged at the sight, and Victor shook himself out of his daze. He had been staring at the carnage for too long. Glancing beside him, he noticed that Colin, the other leader who had accompanied him, was still frozen in place, staring at the scene in shock.

"Snap out of it," Victor growled, elbowing his fellow leader.

"…"

"I said, snap out of it."

"I heard you, moron. Just say what you need to say already," Colin snapped, clearly rattled.

Victor clenched his fists, annoyed by the disrespect, but quickly pushed the anger down. There was no point in fighting with Colin right now—especially when the other leader was clearly shaken. Victor cleared his throat and tried to speak more calmly.

"I think it's too dangerous for us to engage them right now. We should wait for more reinforcements."

"Go ahead and do that," Colin replied coldly.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"What?"

"I said, do whatever you want. I'm out of here."

"What? Hey!"

Victor reached out to grab Colin's shoulder, but the other man slapped his hand away and glared at him with wild eyes.

"Are you crazy? You still want to fight after seeing that pile of bodies? We'd be walking into a death trap!"

"But they must be tired! If we strike now, we could—"

"Tired? Look at them. They're coming toward us right now. Doesn't that look tired to you?" Colin hissed, pointing.

Victor's heart skipped a beat as he followed Colin's gaze. Sure enough, the group below was advancing slowly, but steadily, in their direction. There was nothing about their movements that suggested they were coming to surrender.

"They're not tired. They're ready to kill. Do whatever you want, but I'm leaving. Come on, guys!" Colin shouted, waving his followers to retreat.

Without waiting for a response, Colin turned and bolted, running as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. His followers rushed after him, eager to escape the blood-soaked field. Victor stood there, stunned, watching as his so-called ally abandoned him.

But there was no time to dwell on his failed alliance.

"Captain! They're getting closer!" one of Victor's men shouted, snapping him back to reality.

"What? Oh, uh… Right. Let's move!" Victor barked, finally gathering his wits.

By now, Justin's group was close enough that Victor could feel a wave of terror rising in his chest. The idea of joining that heap of corpses became all too real.

"Run! Retreat! We're leaving too!" Victor shouted.

"Yes, sir!"

His pioneers followed the order without hesitation. There were no protests, no complaints. After all, none of them had any personal vendetta against Justin. They had come out of petty jealousy, hoping to bring him down. But in the face of death, jealousy vanished like smoke.

'Damn it! He's even more dangerous than I thought. How does he kill people so easily? And why doesn't his group ever lose anyone?'

The more Victor thought about it, the more his spine tingled with fear. He couldn't believe he had even considered going up against someone like Justin.

'Yeah, there's no need to get targeted by someone like him. After all, there are still thirteen markers out there. If I gather just seven of them, I'll win,' Victor thought to himself. While Justin had a score equivalent to six markers, he didn't actually possess them. The thirteen markers were still scattered across the area—twice the amount of points Justin had. If Victor could gather just half of those, he was confident that the Dark Elf's city would be his.