I Became My Elf King Character In A Game-Like World
Chapter 108: Capture?!

Chapter 108: Capture?!

The mountain trembled as the Dragon Ghost’s voice roared from deep underground, echoing through the valley like a storm. "Elf King, this is my home now!" it bellowed. "Take your people and leave, or face a dragon’s fury!"

Renjiro stood firm at the base of the Eternal Tree, his eyes sharp and unyielding. He crossed his arms, his voice ringing with authority.

"Dragon Ghost, you’re the one trespassing on my land!" he shouted back. "Get out of my gold mine peacefully, and I might let you keep your miserable existence!"

A furious roar answered, so loud it made the elves cover their ears. "Arrogant Elf King!" the ghost snarled, its voice dripping with rage.

The ground shook violently, rocks tumbling down the slopes as the ghost’s power surged. Cracks split the earth, and the air grew heavy with a cold, deathly chill.

But the Eternal Tree responded. Its bare branches glowed with radiant green light, bright as a summer forest.

A warm wave of energy pulsed outward, washing over the mountain and calming the tremors instantly. The shaking stopped, and the cracks in the ground began to close.

The Dragon Ghost’s voice howled again, thick with hatred. "I despise the power of life!" it screamed.

A deep rumble grew louder underground, like a beast stirring in its sleep. The Eternal Tree glowed brighter, its trunk shimmering with a jade-like brilliance.

Its branches shook wildly, as if fighting an invisible enemy. The air buzzed with tension, life and death clashing in a silent battle.

Renjiro’s eyes narrowed. He reached out to the system in his mind. "System, what’s going on?" he asked.

The system’s voice was calm and clear.

[The Eternal Tree is battling the Dragon Ghost. The Tree uses life magic; the ghost uses death magic. The stronger one will win.]

Renjiro frowned. "Hold on, the Eternal Tree is just Tenth-circle, right?"

[Correct. Peak Tenth-circle, like the Ancient Treants. But the Dragon Ghost is mid-Eleventh-circle.]

"So the Tree’s going to lose?" Renjiro asked, his voice tight.

[Not necessarily. The Eternal Tree draws power from the mountain. And I’ve purified the land—no death magic remains for the ghost to feed on.]

Before Renjiro could respond, a thunderous boom shook the mountain again.

The lush forest around the Eternal Tree began to wilt—flowers drooped, trees sagged, and grass turned brown as the Tree pulled their life force to fuel its fight.

The woodland spirits flickered weakly, their glow dimming.

Renjiro’s jaw tightened. He strategized silently, his mind racing. If the Tree failed, he’d have to force the ghost out himself.

But it was hiding underground, out of reach of his Ghost Sheep skill, which needed a clear target. He clenched his fists, waiting for the ghost to show itself so he could end it.

Elaria rushed to his side, her hair whipping in the wind. "Your Majesty, what’s happening?" she asked, her voice urgent.

Renjiro waved her off, his eyes fixed on the ground. "Not now, Elaria. I’m handling it."

He needed the ghost to surface. Suddenly, he remembered Varn and Nina, who were supposed to be tracking the creature. Where were they? As if on cue, a deafening roar echoed—not from below, but from above.

The elves looked up, gasping. A massive Bone Dragon swooped down, its bony wings rattling. Varn and Nina rode atop it, clinging to its spine.

Varn’s tattered robes flapped wildly, and Nina gripped his arm, her face pale but determined. The dragon landed with a thud, kicking up clouds of dust.

Varn’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—the vibrant forest, the glowing Eternal Tree, the tense elves. "What in the Netherworld happened here?" he muttered, his voice hoarse with shock.

Renjiro didn’t have time for explanations. "Varn, that doesn’t matter now," he snapped. "The Dragon Ghost is under us, hiding in the ground. Flush it out! Don’t let its death magic ruin my land!"

Varn’s face lit up, though he tried to hide his excitement. "Yes, Your Majesty!" he said eagerly. "Varn will take care of it!"

He raised his bone staff, its tip glowing with grey energy. With a sharp thrust, he sent a wave of death magic into the ground.

A piercing scream erupted from below, raw and pained. "Damn Necromancer!" the Dragon Ghost roared. "You dare disturb the great Dragon Ghost?!"

Varn grinned, his old face creasing. "Still fighting, little spirit?" he taunted.

He turned to the Bone Dragon, his voice sharp. "This ghost is mid-Eleventh circle—tougher than I thought. Lend me your strength!"

The Bone Dragon, tilted its skull, its empty eye sockets glinting. "Oh? Begging for help now, old man?" it rumbled, its voice dry with amusement.

"Shut it and do it!" Varn snapped.

Bone Dragon chuckled, a hollow sound, and opened its jaws. A stream of icy death energy poured out, flowing into Varn like a river of frost.

Varn staggered, his body trembling under the surge of power, but he stayed upright, his staff glowing brighter. The grey energy pulsed stronger, crackling like lightning.

Varn’s grin widened. "Dragon Ghost!" he shouted. "No more hiding! Come out!"

He slammed his staff into the ground, unleashing a massive surge of death magic. The earth shook violently, cracks splitting wide.

A deafening scream tore through the air as the Dragon Ghost was yanked from its hiding place.

The ground erupted, and a massive, translucent dragon—over a hundred meters long—rose into the sky.

Its scales shimmered faintly, and its eyes burned with ghostly fire. Grey chains, glowing with Varn’s magic, wrapped around its body, binding it to the necromancer’s staff.

The elves gasped, stepping back. The unicorns’ holy shield flared brighter, and the golems raised their fists, ready to fight.

Elaria gripped her staff, her face pale but determined.

Renjiro stood tall, his eyes locked on the writhing ghost, a faint smile on his lips. The battle was far from over, but now, at least, the enemy was in the open.

....

The sky glowed faintly with the light of the Eternal Tree, its jade brilliance casting long shadows across the mountain.

High above, the Dragon Ghost thrashed in mid-air, its massive, translucent body—easily a hundred meters long—writhing against the glowing grey chains that bound it.

Its scales shimmered like mist, and its fiery eyes glared down at the elves below. Renjiro stared up, his mouth slightly open, stunned by its size. It dwarfed even the Bone Dragon, who hovered nearby.

"Are all adult dragons this huge?" Renjiro asked, his voice tinged with awe.

Bone Dragon tilted its bony skull, its empty eye sockets glinting. "Your Majesty, I’m an adult dragon," it rumbled, sounding almost offended. "When I died, I was peak Tenth-circle. This ghost is just puffing itself up to scare Varn or fight his magic."

Before Renjiro could respond, one of his Giant Golems stepped forward, its stone body creaking. Its voice was deep and proud.

"Your Majesty, dragons like that are nothing but flying lizards compared to us Golems at Tenth or Eleventh-circle. We’d snap its wings and crush its neck like twigs."

Renjiro nodded, feeling a bit more confident, but Bone Dragon’s skull snapped toward the golem, its jaws clacking. "Flying lizard?" it growled. "Want a taste of my bone-chilling breath, you pile of rocks?"

The golem didn’t flinch, its glowing eyes steady. "Go ahead and try," it said calmly.

The other golems shifted, their massive fists raised, ready to brawl. Their stone faces showed no fear—emotionless, as always.

Bone Dragon opened its jaws, a faint icy glow building in its throat, but it glanced at Renjiro and paused. With a loud snort, it turned away, muttering under its breath.

High above, the Dragon Ghost roared, its voice shaking the air. It twisted and thrashed, trying to break free from Varn’s grey chains.

The more it struggled, the smaller it got, its massive form shrinking bit by bit, like mist burning away in the sun.

Varn stood below, gripping his bone staff tightly, sweat beading on his wrinkled forehead. The effort was draining him, but his voice stayed strong.

"Dragon Ghost, stop fighting!" he shouted. "Lord Varn is near peak Eleventh-circle. Keeping you trapped is easy!"

The ghost’s eyes blazed with fury. "Damn you, Necromancer!" it screamed. "The great me will never bow to you!"

Varn’s lips curled into a calm smile. "You’re mistaken," he said smoothly. "I don’t want to control you."

The ghost paused, confused. "Then why did you trap me?!" it demanded.

Varn’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with ambition. "Because I want to absorb you."

The Dragon Ghost froze, its fiery eyes widening in fear. It understood now—Varn wasn’t just any necromancer. "You bold Necromancer!" it roared. "You’re trying to become a legendary Lich—one of the most evil demigods on the continent!"

"That’s right," Varn said, his voice cold and certain. "You’re the last piece I need."

He raised his staff higher, pouring more death magic into the chains. The grey energy pulsed brighter, tightening around the ghost.

With a final, desperate scream, the Dragon Ghost shrank faster, its massive form collapsing until it was no bigger than a hand.

Varn reached out, snatching it from the air, and stuffed it into a small, dark bottle etched with runes.

The bottle glowed faintly, designed to trap high-level spirits and block their death energy. He sealed it with a click and slipped it into his storage ring, then let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging with relief.

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