From Slave to King: My Rebate System Built Me a Kingdom With Beauties!-Chapter 185: Saved Or...!
Byung managed to survive the attack not due to his own skills, reflexes, or the system’s enhancements—none of which mattered when facing what came next. The moment his hand released the elf’s throat and she stumbled back, her violet eyes flashed with cold fury. Her hand moved in an intricate gesture, fingers weaving patterns that left glowing trails in the air, and suddenly arrows materialized from nothing—shimmering constructs of pure arcane energy that hung suspended for a heartbeat before launching toward him with impossible speed.
The truth was Byung would never have survived those arrows with his own power. They were remotely controlled with magic, each one tracking his movements with unnatural precision, curving mid-flight to adjust trajectories as he tried to dodge. Which meant traditional evasion was out of the question entirely—these weren’t physical projectiles governed by momentum and physics, but magical constructs that followed intent and locked onto their target like heat-seeking missiles. And unfortunately for Byung, he was no match for an elf in magical combat. How does one even begin to defend themselves against magic when you have no access to it, no enchanted armor, nothing but flesh and bone against forces that bent reality itself?
The arrows closed in from multiple angles—left, right, above—forming a net of glowing death that would riddle him with holes in seconds. Byung’s mind raced through options and found none. Jump? The arrows would follow. Block with his sword? Magical energy would punch straight through steel. Run? He wasn’t fast enough to outpace thought-guided projectiles.
Then the ground opened up beneath him.
Not gradually, not with warning—just sudden absence where solid earth had been a moment before. Byung plummeted with a startled gasp, arms windmilling uselessly as gravity claimed him. The arrows streaked through empty air where he’d stood, slamming into trees with impacts that shattered bark and set wood smoldering with residual magic. But Byung was already falling into darkness, swallowed whole by the earth itself.
He landed hard into the hole after dropping perhaps fifteen feet, hitting packed dirt floor with a grunt that knocked wind from his lungs. Pain flared through his shoulder and hip where he’d impacted, but nothing felt broken. Byung rolled to his knees, gasping, hand instinctively reaching for his dagger as he tried to orient himself in near-total darkness broken only by faint light in the distance.
He noticed immediately he was in an underground tunnel—not a natural cave formation but something deliberately constructed. The walls were smooth, carved with precision that spoke of dwarven engineering, and covered with strange markings.
Byung looked up instinctively, expecting to see sky or at least the hole he’d fallen through. To his utmost surprise, the ground above was already covered up—sealed completely as if it had never opened. He was entombed.
Movement to his right made him spin, dagger raised defensively. Then he saw the dwarf—the one he’d been seeking, standing there with arms crossed and a smile on his dark face that revealed teeth too white against his dark skin. His red eyes glowed in the tunnel’s dim light, amused rather than concerned.
Byung wanted to question him immediately—demand explanations about what just happened, how the dwarf had known to open that escape route at precisely the right moment, why an elf was hunting him. But before words could form, the dwarf placed a finger on his lips in a universal gesture of silence, shaking his head firmly. The smile faded to something more serious, almost grim.
This must be why he remained hidden, Byung realized with sudden clarity. The dwarf had stayed out of sight, avoided all contact despite knowing Byung would be traveling, because he was aware that this would happen. The elves had sent lookouts—scouts or spies or whatever they called their observers—to track activity in this region. And the worst part was there was no reliable way to find them when they used invisibility magic and scent-masking enchantments. Traditional tracking methods were useless against arcane concealment.
This was why the dwarf remained underground and out of sight until circumstances forced him to intervene. Surfacing meant exposure to elven surveillance, and whatever the dwarf’s goals were, they required secrecy above all else.
After several tense moments of silence, ensuring no sounds of pursuit came from above, Byung whispered urgently: "What is an elf doing so far out from their territories? I thought they isolated themselves centuries ago."
The dwarf shrugged, the gesture dismissive, and turned to walk deeper into the tunnel without answering. There was no need to answer that question—either because he didn’t know, didn’t care, or considered it irrelevant to their immediate situation. But one thing was certain, obvious to both of them: fighting an elf meant certain death for anyone who lacked magical defenses or countermeasures.
Byung couldn’t fully comprehend the scope of their power yet, having only witnessed seconds of combat, but the casual way she’d conjured those tracking arrows told him everything he needed to know. Elves were on another level entirely, operating with capabilities that made orc strength and goblin cunning look like children’s toys. Which raised terrifying questions: what brought them here specifically? Was this elf hunting him because of what he was, what the system had made him? Or were elves always patrolling these borders, and he’d simply been unlucky enough to detect them?
Byung would have no way of knowing for certain. And the way she had spoken about him—"goblin who is not quite goblin"—suggested knowledge, recognition of his transformation. Like she had been looking specifically for anomalies, for things that didn’t fit natural patterns.
The dwarf gestured sharply for him to follow, and Byung did just that, falling into step behind the shorter figure. They moved through the tunnel system, and Byung noticed with growing confusion that the direction was the opposite of where he had just come from. They weren’t heading toward the black forest—they were going back, or perhaps sideways, into territory he didn’t recognize. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮
But they went deeper and deeper with each turn, descending through passages that angled steadily downward, the air growing cooler and carrying mineral scents of deep earth. Byung had no idea where he was anymore—his mental map useless in this three-dimensional maze of tunnels that twisted and branched like tree roots.
Then, as they rounded a corner into a wider chamber lit by more of glowing torches, Byung caught a scent that made him freeze mid-step. His nostrils flared, pulling in the air and analyzing it with disbelief that quickly turned to certainty.
It couldn’t be. But it was.
That smell—orc musk mixed with specific odour he’d encountered before, the unique signature of an individual he’d only met once but would never forget.
"Kraghul," Byung whispered, the name escaping his lips unbidden. His eyes darted around the chamber, searching shadows for the massive orc who should be close.
The dwarf’s smile widened into something that might have been satisfaction or twisted amusement. He gestured toward a passage leading off the main chamber, inviting Byung to see for himself what waited in the darkness ahead.
