Chương 168: 168：The Blood Oath of Fealty

BOOM! The moment those words left his lips, Ilya felt an unprecedented, world-shattering shock! In that fleeting instant, she completely, flawlessly read the colossal, terrifying ambition buried deep within this man's heart. Unbelievable! It was absolutely unbelievable! Though Soren hadn't stated it outright, Ilya—an apex tactical commander—could hear the brazen, heaven-defying treason hidden perfectly between his lines!

"He... he never planned to pledge loyalty to the Silvermoon Kingdom in the first place!" Ilya's mind was violently trembling.

"The reason he came to the Misty Swamp, the reason he outright rejected a transfer to the wealthy rear echelons... it's because he plans to forge this absolute death-zone into an independent nation completely beyond the Kingdom's control!"

"He intends to crown himself King! He actually harbors the ambition to overthrow that colossal empire!" A dry swallow scraped down Ilya's throat. Even though she hated the rotting Silvermoon Kingdom to her very marrow, even though she wanted to butcher the nobles who had branded her face... she had only ever thought of running. Because the Silvermoon Kingdom was simply too massive. Tens of millions of citizens. A standing army of a million men.

In her eyes, just dodging their executioners and surviving in this rotting mud had drained every last drop of her strength. But the man standing before her? With a measly village of a few hundred souls, trapped in the most atrocious tactical position imaginable, he was actually using the threat of total annihilation as a betting chip to plot the conquest of the world!

"What kind of madman is this...? No. What kind of peerless conqueror is this?!" Ilya's heart hammered against her ribs. The flames of vengeance she had desperately suppressed for ten years, alongside the burning desire to carve out her own legacy, were violently, entirely awakened on this rainy night by Soren's brazen declaration. Meanwhile. Inside the treehouse, the Half-Elf elders were whispering frantically among themselves.

"Did you hear his calculation of the wind vectors earlier? That level of perception is something even we Half-Elves can barely dream of reaching..."

"And that [Windwhisper Bow]! That is a holy relic of the Elven Court! Without an incredibly pure, even Royal-tier Elven bloodline, it is physically impossible to even draw the string!" A one-eyed elder, staring at Soren's handsome profile, was shaking with pure excitement. He leaned in and whispered frantically to Ilya:"Leader! Look at his eyes! That is a high-tier [Eagle Eye]! Even ordinary pure-blood elves cannot master it! I suspect...

I suspect Lord Soren has the secret bloodline of Elven Royalty flowing through his veins!"

"To survive in human society, he has been using a human identity as a flawless cover!" Although this theory was completely absurd, in the minds of the Half-Elves, it was the absolute only logical explanation for a human possessing the [Eagle Eye] and the [Windwhisper Bow]. Through sheer collective headcanon, they had elevated Soren into a hidden Royal Half-Elf, a supreme existence sharing their secret bloodline, trapped inside a human shell!

Of course, out of profound reverence for his strength, and because questioning another's bloodline was a massive taboo, not a single Half-Elf dared to ask him outright. But this fabricated sense of bloodline kinship violently tipped their emotional scales directly in Soren's favor.

"Ilya." Blissfully unaware that these elves were currently rewriting his entire genealogy in their heads, Soren pressed his advantage. He pulled out the final trump card destined to obliterate Ilya's lingering doubts. He retrieved a three-shot repeating crossbow and placed it heavily onto the wooden table in front of her.

"Earlier, you said your people cannot trust the promises of humans. That you fear racial persecution."

"Then take a very close look at this repeating crossbow, and tell me who forged it." Ilya picked up the heavy repeating crossbow. Her eyes scanned the highly unique, interlocking gear mechanisms, and her face instantly warped in shock.

"This is Goblin engineering? This is a forging technique exclusive to their race!"

"Exactly!" Soren declared openly.

"This was forged by the Hobgoblin race—a species famously known for holding a bone-deep hatred toward humanity!"

"I can tell you plainly. In my Greywater Village, the Chief Engineer, the Quartermaster holding absolute control over the military-industrial lifeline of my entire army... is a Hobgoblin named Luger!"

"Not only did he lead his entire goblin tribe to join Greywater Village, but he has earned my absolute, unreserved trust and holds massive authority within my council!" Clatter. The wooden cup Ilya was holding slipped from her fingers, bouncing off the floorboards. Even the Hobgoblins! A race universally recognized as the most untamable, stubborn, and violently temperamental creatures on the continent! Yet, under this man's banner, they were treated as absolute equals and entrusted with immense power!

This meant that the utopia devoid of racial discrimination Soren had painted wasn't just empty political rhetoric. It was a cold, hard, already-existing reality! In that exact moment, the absolute final shred of hesitation within Ilya's heart evaporated into dust. First: The guarantee of survival, a sanctuary where their elders and children could live in peace. Second: The profound, shared resonance of both being abandoned pawns discarded by their nations. This book was originally published on Royal Road.

Check it out there for the real experience. Third: The chance to follow a supreme commander to slaughter orcs and wash away their humiliation in blood. Fourth: The intoxicating prospect that one day, backed by this invincible army, she could carve her way back into the Royal Capital and butcher the corrupt Silvermoon nobles who had branded her face! Fifth: The quiet, fanatical belief that Soren possessed pure elven royal blood.

These five consecutive, soul-piercing psychological strikes utterly and violently dismantled the psychological defenses of Ilya and every single Half-Elf present.

"This is a heaven-sent destiny capable of rewriting the entire fate of our race!" Ilya took a long, deep breath. Every ounce of her previous despair and confusion was instantly swept away, replaced by a mask of unbreakable resolve. Shing! Without a microsecond of hesitation, she drew the refined steel dagger from her waist. Under Soren's unblinking gaze, Ilya ruthlessly sliced the blade directly across her left palm! Crimson blood welled up and spilled over her fingers.

This was the absolute, most sacred ritual of the Half-Elves: The [Blood Oath of Fealty]! THUD! This peerless female commander, who had once led human armies to defend Ironmoon Fortress... This fiercely proud ranger, who hadn't bowed her head even when a red-hot branding iron seared her flesh... In this exact moment, dropped heavily to both knees directly in front of Soren!

"I! Ilya! Leader of the Half-Elf Rangers!" Ilya raised her blood-soaked left hand high, pressing her forehead firmly against the wooden floorboards. Her heart was a raging tempest. Her voice trembled slightly over the roaring storm outside, but every single syllable was forged of iron:"I swear upon my life, my blood, and my very soul!"

"From this night onward, I willingly lead my entire vanguard of one hundred and thirty Half-Elf warriors, alongside over a hundred elders and children of my tribe, to completely submit to Lord Soren!"

"Wherever your sword points, we shall march, even unto absolute death!" As Ilya's oath echoed... Inside the treehouse, and out in the torrential rain, the one hundred and thirty elite Half-Elves gripping their longbows didn't hesitate for a single second. Splash! Moving with terrifying, unified synchronization, one hundred and thirty Half-Elves dropped to their knees in the freezing mud!

They slammed their right hands over their hearts, unleashing a roar that violently shook the ancient forest:"FEALTY UNTO DEATH, LORD SOREN!"

"WE LIVE AND DIE TOGETHER!" Looking down at the kneeling supreme commander—a prodigy possessing the triple Talents of [Master Tactical Commander], [Eagle Eye Perception], and [Nature Magic Affinity]—and her phantom-like force of Half-Elf rangers... A wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy crashed through Soren's heart. From this exact moment forward, Greywater Village's ranged firepower would absolutely no longer be restricted to static trench warfare!

They now possessed a lethal, hyper-mobile strike force capable of executing guerrilla assassinations across the most complex terrains!

"GOOD!" Soren took a massive stride forward. Reaching down with both hands, he firmly hoisted Ilya to her feet. He didn't waste breath on empty, flowery speeches. In his army, immediate action was the absolute best response.

"ATTENTION ALL UNITS! PASS THE ORDER!" Soren spun around, issuing his very first—and undeniably the most morale-boosting—military directive to the Half-Elves:"BREAK CAMP IMMEDIATELY!"

"Carry your wounded! Wrap your children tightly! Throw away every last scrap of those rotting roots!"

"Tonight, we force-march through the storm!"

"Target: Greywater Village! We march to gorge yourselves on the piping-hot bread and roasted meat I have waiting for you!" The torrential rain poured from the heavens. Driven by the swirling moisture, the toxic miasma of the Misty Swamp scattered outward, making the wasteland look exceptionally eerie and lethal. Soren marched at the absolute vanguard of the massive procession. Rainwater cascaded off his broad, imposing shoulders. His steps were unshakable, flawlessly paving the way for the entire tribe.

Right behind him, gripping her longbow, Ilya led two hundred and thirty-seven Half-Elves. Supporting their elderly, their women, and carrying their children, they trudged heavily through pitch-black, knee-deep sludge. Even the absolute most elite regular armies in the world wouldn't dare force-march through the Misty Swamp in the dead of night. But Soren dared. Relying on his [Eagle Eye] to pierce the fog, Soren flawlessly navigated them away from submerged sinkholes.

He perfectly anticipated and bypassed the Two-Headed Swamp Crocodiles thrashing wildly beneath the mud due to the storm. Occasionally, a razor-sharp arrow would leave his bow with casual perfection, splitting a lethal venomous insect lurking on a dead branch perfectly in half. This god-like, high-tier application of Eagle Eye left Ilya and her elite rangers absolutely dazzled. With every passing mile, the profound reverence they held for their new Lord deepened.

"We're almost there." Soren's voice easily cut through the curtain of rain. Supporting one another, dragging bodies that were on the absolute verge of freezing solid, the Half-Elves trudged up a gentle slope. The moment they crested the ridge, the sight that unfolded before them caused this band of battle-hardened rangers to instantly tense every single nerve in their bodies.