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Chapter 9: One-Strike Kill
🕑 Added 2025-10-20 03:18:31 +0000 UTCLast month, Dorian celebrated his one hundred and seventh birthday.
For humans, a century would mean having one foot in the grave, but for elves, one hundred and seven was just reaching adulthood, a prime age worth striving through.
To get rich, Dorian had cultivated deep expertise in the banditry field for years, independently building a dynamic technical team with flat management and granular refinement.
He constantly iterated professional robbery, trafficking, and kidnapping techniques, repeatedly empowering users.
Within Blackwater Town's jurisdiction, relying on differentiated competitive advantages, he rapidly completed brand mindshare domination and built a notorious reputation.
However, drow elves were a race that followed matriarchal society. Drow females selected mates like choosing livestock to raise, and males were expected to submit.
As a male drow elf, Dorian not only couldn't inherit any power, property, or titles, but from birth, he'd been burdened with heavy child-rearing debt.
Every winter, Dorian had to deliver large amounts of gold coins to the "Matron" of the drow family. Otherwise, he would be expelled from the clan and hunted by drow assassins who would sacrifice his heart to the great spider goddess Lolth.
Conversely, as long as Dorian worked diligently and paid off two hundred years of child-rearing debt to the family, he could become a reserve consort for the Matron, thereafter enjoying fine clothes and good food without worry.
Some consorts, after the Matron bore a daughter, could even rise to prominence through their daughter's status, soaring to the heavens in one leap.
This was Dorian's 31st year paying his child-rearing debt. He'd originally thought this would be a lucky year. He'd latched onto a big shot from Roan City, making a fortune selling quality slaves, and even mastered a combat technique, moving closer to becoming a professional.
However, today, all this beauty was mercilessly destroyed, like tears vanishing in rain.
Dorian, along with the gray dwarf Steelton and the tiefling Ferrak, after several hours of trekking, finally reached Howling Cave.
At this moment, the three villains had donned black face masks and were wrapped in black cloaks.
Dorian wore chainmail, Steelton wore leather armor, while Ferrak wore no armor at all, just an utterly ordinary set of black cloth clothes.
"Where'd your leather armor and leg guards go?" Dorian's gaze fell on Ferrak's patched cloth outfit as he asked.
"Leather armor's useless. Its protection is too weak. Better to keep the body light and nimble, easier to dodge attacks." Ferrak answered naturally.
"You got scammed by a woman again?" Dorian's face darkened. "You actually sold your leather armor and gave the money to a whore?"
"No, she's different..." Ferrak coughed, defending himself.
"She's a good girl, just driven by circumstances, led astray."
"To have you this smitten, what race is she? A succubus?" Steelton interjected from the side.
"Not a succubus, she's..." Ferrak's face immediately flushed red. Before his words were finished,
Above the forest, a slender figure completely hidden in shadow, muscular and powerful arms had already drawn a longbow to full moon. The bowstring was silently pulled to its limit.
"Silver bow, never misses. The wicked fall — the wolf loses its head." The ranger recited silently in his heart.
The instant the bowstring released, three arrows emanating cold light shot out almost simultaneously from the darkness in a triangular formation, directly targeting the heads of Dorian's trio.
"Swoosh swoosh swoosh—"
Ferrak's head was pierced by the cold arrow. The tiefling fell flat on the ground, killed on the spot.
"Enemy attack!!"
Steelton roared like rolling thunder, violently swinging his arm shield to deflect the two incoming arrows.
However, the next moment, an invisible ripple spread from the center point between Steelton and Dorian, like a transparent sphere, trapping the two of them inside.
Within this transparent sphere, Steelton discovered with horror that he couldn't make any sound!
Simultaneously, on the ground around Steelton's body, four azure ghostly lights lit up from east, south, west, and north. Four chains shot out from within the ghostly lights, firmly binding Steelton's body!
In almost an instant, Steelton's body surface was covered by ghostly light. The entire person became like an ice sculpture, completely frozen in place, unable to move.
Second-circle spell: Silence!
Second-circle spell: Hold Person!
Watching the scene before him, Dorian instantly realized he'd walked into an ambush.
"Damn it!"
Dorian's gaze didn't linger on the gray dwarf for even a second. He whipped his head around and sprinted madly toward the depths of the jungle. In his eyes, Steelton was already a dead man.
Abandon wealth to preserve life, sacrifice the rook to save the king. This saying was every criminal's survival creed.
Combined with the inherently ruthless nature of drow elves, in an instant, Dorian classified Steelton as non-recyclable garbage.
Using Steelton as a meat shield, Dorian plunged into the depths of the Misty Forest. Even after running several kilometers at full speed, he didn't dare slow down.
Because while escaping, Dorian had dodged too slowly and his arm was grazed by an arrow, leaving blood on the ground.
Blood Trace, a second-circle spell, also every sheriff's favorite. Used on a living creature's blood, it highlighted the target in one's vision, enabling tracking for up to 6 hours.
After casting Blood Trace, a sheriff became equivalent to a rabid hound, relentlessly biting at the fugitive's heels.
Dorian relied on his familiarity with the terrain, sneaking into magical beast lairs multiple times, throwing spiny bulbs to lure monsters, using this to shake off the sheriff's tracking. He barely survived numerous close calls, finally reaching his destination.
The ancient ruin portal that only Dorian knew about.
"As long as I can get there..."
Climbing the nine-level ancient ruin, Dorian looked up breathlessly, only to see standing before the purple portal a terrifying figure in tattered clothes, holding a great axe, covered in blood.
The person slowly raised their head. The icy killing intent revealed in their eyes made Dorian's heart constrict, his scalp tingle, as if being stared down by a magical beast at the top of the food chain.
Was this still that ignorant pig ready for slaughter from before?
Dorian's throat moved, swallowing saliva with difficulty.
...
"Dorian?" Orum gripped the great axe with both hands, slowly walking toward Dorian.
"You're not looking too good. Anemic?"
"We have no grudge between us. Let me go, and all the gold coins in this pouch are yours." Dorian watched Orum continuously approaching. His legs seemed rooted to the spot, frozen in place. He extended his undamaged right hand and removed the pouch from his waist.
The pouch was bulging. Dorian untied the cord and casually tossed it forward. The pouch landed on the ground, spilling out a large pile of gleaming gold coins, at least several dozen.
According to the prices of this era, the gold coins in this pouch alone would be enough for an ordinary family to live comfortably for the rest of their lives.
Orum only glanced at the pouch once before withdrawing his gaze, once again staring straight at Dorian.
He smiled. "If I kill you, isn't this money mine anyway?"
"Why drive someone to the edge?" Dorian sighed deeply, gripping the sword hilt at his waist.
The instant the distance between the two compressed to 2 meters, Dorian moved.
Dorian's figure suddenly blurred, his speed so fast it left only an afterimage in one's vision.
In this instant, in Dorian's eyes, the entire world became slow motion. It wasn't that the world truly slowed down, but that he'd become faster.
From Orum's perspective, Dorian merely stepped forward once, and a brilliant flash of a quick sword suddenly appeared, as if there was no process of drawing the sword. The next instant, intense pain came from between his brows!
One sword piercing through the skull.
Combat Technique: Thrust!
This was Dorian's killing blow. This lightning-fast sword strike couldn't be dodged by anyone except true professionals.
Dorian even had absolute confidence that if he struck one hundred times, he could kill Orum one hundred times!
