Lord blessed by the elves

Chapter 95 Violation
Dozens of miles away, in the wilderness near the Wild Dog Market, the rebel army and the noble alliance were engaged in a fierce battle with deafening shouts.

The sounds of clashing swords, battle cries, and the wails of the dying were originally the main melody of this land.

When the thick fog swept across the land without warning, like a giant gray-white curtain, everything changed.

The charging cavalrymen and their horses collapsed to the ground, while the infantrymen, who had raised their weapons to strike, froze in mid-air before collapsing like puppets with broken strings.

Archers slid out from behind their hiding places, and commanders fell from their warhorses... Whether they were ragged rebel soldiers or gleaming noble private soldiers, they all lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground in a very short time.

The sounds of fighting, shouting, and the clanging of metal... all faded and disappeared within a few breaths.

All that remained on the battlefield was a thick, impenetrable fog and bodies lying haphazardly in deep coma, as if death had paused this bloody conflict in an incredibly gentle yet absolutely domineering way.

Even the strongest knights on the battlefield, who had reached the Silver rank, were not spared.

They might have held on for a few more breaths than ordinary soldiers, trying to unleash their immense fighting spirit to resist the pervasive drowsiness, but the mysterious power contained within the mist far exceeded their comprehension.

The silvery-white battle aura flickered a few times like a candle in the wind before quickly dimming.

In the end, they could only collapse to the ground, their faces filled with shock and resentment, as their vision went black and they fell into an irresistible slumber, just like their soldiers.

The entire battlefield, and even the entire Hornaqi Mountains region, seemed to be under a spell of collective slumber, with only the pervasive, silently flowing gray-white mist dominating this land.

In Kruze's camp, he was the only "abnormal" one.

The Elf King's monocle was pressed tightly against his eye socket, and a cool sensation seeped into his brow, helping him resist the waves of drowsiness that surged in and tried to overwhelm his consciousness.

He could sense that the power contained within the mist was not a physical attack, but rather a forced dormancy spell that directly affected the soul or spirit.

He tried to infuse his fighting spirit into his voice, emitting a deep roar, and even struck his shield with the hilt of his sword, producing a piercing noise, but none of these could awaken his sleeping companions.

Their breathing was steady, their faces rosy, as if they were simply in the sweetest of dreams, but Kruse knew that this was by no means natural sleep.

"We must find the source, or... hold out until the fog clears." Kruze thought grimly.

He dared not leave the camp, fearing he might get lost in the fog, or that something might attack his defenseless companions and brother while he was away.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, focusing his senses as a bronze knight to the extreme, while simultaneously activating the power of the Elf King's monocle.

The lenses warmed slightly, and his field of vision began to change.

To the naked eye, the thick fog is just a grayish-white expanse, but with the help of the lenses, he could vaguely see countless extremely fine, spider-web-like pale gray energy streams flowing through the fog. These energy streams were continuously penetrating into the mouths and noses of the sleepers, and even seeping into their bodies through their skin.

He himself was enveloped in a thin, yet undeniably real, pale golden halo—a protective force spontaneously generated by his monocle, isolating him from the gray energy flows. Time ticked by, the camp was deathly silent, the mountains were deathly silent, and the world seemed to consist only of his conscious soul.

Kruze stood with his sword drawn, guarding Rezael and the three lion cubs who were also asleep, like a statue. He watched the swirling fog around him warily, waiting for the unknown to happen, or... for something hidden in the fog to reveal itself.

This eerie silence was more unsettling than any battlefield where swords clashed.

Just as Kruze was fully on guard, expecting some terrifying monster to burst out of the thick fog, the scene before him stunned him.

At the edge of the thick fog, a small, staggering figure struggled out.

It looked about the same size as the three cave lion cubs, and it walked with a limp, as if it might collapse at any moment.

By the light of the campfire and the fading mist, Kruze could see that its body was covered with crisscrossing wounds, its original fur now stained with blood, making it look particularly pitiful.

Kruse did not let his guard down because of the opponent's small size.

Anything that appears behind this eerie fog is suspicious.

He gripped the Tang sword tightly, his muscles tense, his eyes blazing, fixed on the small figure, not daring to step forward rashly.

The little creature moved forward a few more steps with difficulty, seemingly having exhausted its last bit of strength. It let out a barely audible whimper, then its limbs went limp, and it collapsed to the ground, no longer moving.

The moment it fell, Kruze keenly sensed that the thick, seemingly alive fog around him was beginning to thin and dissipate at a visible speed! As if gently brushed away by an invisible hand, moonlight and starlight once again bathed the earth, and the outline of the camp became clear.

What sent chills down Kruze's spine even further was that, as the fog dissipated, the camp seemed to have been put on a restart!
The Knight of Wink, who had been sleeping against the fence, stirred groggily, then shook his head as if he had only taken a nap, straightened up again, and continued to perform his night watch duties. His face showed no sign of distress, as if the forced deep sleep he had just experienced had never happened.

The other patrolling militiamen also "woke up" one after another. They nodded to each other, checked their weapons, and continued their previous patrol route. No one talked about the strange slumber they had just experienced, and no one even showed a hint of confusion.

It seemed that in the entire world, only he, Kruze, was the only one who remembered that terrifying silence and forced slumber!

This eerie sense of incongruity made the hairs on his body stand on end, and a chill ran from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.

All these anomalies seemed to point to that little thing that suddenly appeared and then suddenly collapsed.

Kruse took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and slowly walked towards the small figure who was slumped on the ground, his life hanging in the balance.

He remained vigilant, his Tang sword held horizontally in front of him, until he was completely standing in front of the little thing.

When he finally saw the little creature by the brightening campfire and moonlight, even with Kruse's composure and extensive knowledge, his eyes widened in shock and disbelief, and he almost blurted out.

　Thank you to all the brothers who voted for me with monthly tickets at the beginning of the month! Double monthly tickets! Your strong support has slightly increased the book's popularity and added many more to my collection. Thank you so much! I, Old Gu, shamelessly ask to continue reading. A good book needs the support of readers like "Today is Full of Hope" and "Forgetful of Dust." Your occasional comments and guidance have benefited me greatly.
　　
　
(End of this chapter)