Taming the Dark Lord - Chapter 20

Chapter 20 – I Was Wrong (1)

Turning to his back, he saw a man narrowing the distance between them. Judging from his attire, he was a Bishop. He squinted, gently rubbing his drooping eyes with the back of his hand as he sneered. “Dark elf? How dare you sneak inside this sanctuary?!”

T/N: Bishop – A Saint that has graduated.

The bishop was furious, not even bothering to take his wand out as he drew out a soft light from his open palms, and rushed towards the dark elf.

“There’s a new magic in the works that I have yet to test out. Just my luck, I can test it out on you today. How unfortunate for you.” The bishop smiled maddeningly. The sight of elves dying was a sight to behold, and at this point, he lost count of the numbers of the dark elves he killed in both dungeons and laboratories. He never gets tired of seeing them be obliterated.

The light the bishop casted contrasted greatly with the evening night, so dazzling it’s almost blinding. The elf hissed, and looked up at him with disdain in his eyes. He readied himself.

‘Dirty and annoying scum.’

The night belongs to the elves, even with the flashing light, the darkness still overpowered the brightness, swallowing it whole as ferocious tentacles jumped out from the shadows. They snapped their mouths open, widening it as red, gooey mucus dripped out from their caverns.

The bishop opened his eyes in horror. He hastily turned back to escape, but he only managed to take a few, short steps before the tentacles reached his legs. His limbs were pulled abruptly underneath him, making him drop down to his stomach. He desperately tried to claw his way out when the tentacles slithered on his body, and bit his flesh.

The tentacles let out a satisfied hiss as they swallowed the Bishop whole. They retreated back to the shadows.

“Spit it out. All of it.” The dark elf reprimanded, and kicked the tentacles with the toe of his foot.

The tentacles were stubborn, not wanting to do what they were ordered to. They looked at the elf, and when they saw how dead serious he was, they opened their mouths complainingly as they spat the Bishop’s remains.

“What are you doing?”

In an instant, the tentacles fidgeted in panic as they hid under him and hurried towards the darkness.

It was Amelia. She was on her pajamas, and she had a crescent-shaped machete on one hand as she flicked the branches out of her way. She frowned at the dark elf.

“Didn’t I tell you that you shouldn’t come out? You can’t just come out whenever you want to.” Amelia said.

The elf turned sharply at Amelia. He was seething like a cat that was stepped on its tail. “Do you plan to keep me in the basement forever?” He retorted.

“Who said anything about keeping you there forever?” Amelia raised her eyebrow, and continued. “Isn’t the door always opened and unlocked? You can’t let others see you.”

“Sounds like imprisonment to me.” The elf scorned.

She was reminded yet again of the elf’s lost memories. Since the elf was locked up in the basement, he probably thought that it’s no different from being jailed inside a cell, since both of it entailed having no access from the outside.

Amelia only did it for the elf’s own good, but she knew that she had been too preoccupied with her own problems lately that she didn’t consider what the elf must’ve felt.

Guilt washed over her. If she were in the elf’s position, she would’ve lashed out the same way the elf did. “It was for your own safety. The sanctuary is heavily guarded so there’s a high chance that you would get caught. You can’t go out like this. I’ll take you outside when I have the chance, okay?”

The elf was dressed in rags covered with bloodstains on its seams. His feet were bare, standing tall and thin before her and Amelia thought that it was a pitiful sight.

He’s like a lost cub that was full of scars. Even with his sharp fangs, Amelia knew that he wouldn’t be able to outrun the patrols once they had him in their hands. He would be killed instantly right there and then.

‘If the news from the patrol team proves that he is not the murderer, I must send him back to the border.’ Amelia promised herself that she would do this.

The dark elf saw the underlying pity in Amelia’s gaze. “Do you think I’m weak? He asked, the space around them shaking slightly from the magnitude of his voice.

He was livid, beyond furious to be thought as a weakling. He held his hand up earlier, and left her safe and unharmed. And now she’s thinking that he is weak