When Michael heard the echo in the distance, he was surprised. Soon, many figures riding winged beasts appeared on the horizon. These beasts resembled giant butterflies. Having no idea what was happening in the world, Michael remained on the hilltop, waiting for the figures to come to him. While they were flying toward him, Michael accessed the system storage and took out the cultivation device. After a long thought, Michael named these devices Olympus. He wore the olympus around his wrist and willed the system to use the refined arch energy crystals in the storage. Olympus warmed up slightly as the black device tightened around his wrist. Soon, Michael felt a surge of energy within his body. These refined arch energy crystals boosted his cultivation power to the Core Formation level. In a world without energy, a Core Formation warrior would be a god. Eventually, the giant butterflies descended down to the hilltop, revealing their riders. To Michael's surprise, those who rode the butterflies looked similar to the elves but had brownish skin and pointier ears. Furthermore, they looked primitive. The men wore a piece of a dress made of various leaves around their wrists, covering their manhood, while the women wore leaves covering their breasts and womanhood. Still, the dress made of leaves barely covered them. Even the bows and arrows they had looked ancient and primal.

As soon as the wood elves saw Michael, they screamed and raised their hands to the sky. Their eyes were filled with disbelief and shock. They quickly jumped to the mountaintop from the mount and knelt before Michael. Michael saw them knocking their heads against the ground like they were asking for forgiveness.

"This isn't the welcome I expected," Sarba whispered. Michael shared the same thought. The wood elves bent their knees and went on with the ground. They didn't even dare to look him in the eyes. He turned his gaze to the elder elf, who wore some kind of hat with feathers and held a staff. With a hunch back and a staff to hold his body straight, the old elf looked like a typical village elder who was wise and old.

"Dark Lord," The old elf's voice stuttered. It was not because of his old age but because of the respect and fear he had toward the Dark Lord. The old man trembled even to raise his head before Michael.

At that moment, almost thirty wood elves and their mountains knelt before Michael, waiting for him to speak. Since Michael was caught off guard by the god thing in another world, it took him a few moments to find his next words. Never in a million years did Michael think he would find an entirely new world with elves who worship him as their god.

"Alright. Everyone, stand up," Michael ordered them. The village elder and the other wood elves almost immediately rose to their feet as though they were programmed to obey every one of his commands. Tears gushed out of the village elder's eyes. Even some of the male wood elves sobbed with joy and delight. But deep within their eyes, Michael saw the desperation for help.

Some of the elves had deep scars and wounds still covered with green paste. Those marks were perfectly straight, like a sword cut or a spear slash. Michael knew without a doubt that these elves were fighting someone. Judging by their weapons and clothes, anyone with a sword and better armor could slaughter these elves. So unless the elves were fighting unarmed goblins, they had no chance of winning the fight.

The old elf tried to remain straight with the help of his staff.

"I knew you would answer our prayers, Dark Lord," the old elf said, sobbing uncontrollably. Tears gushed out of the old elf's eyes.

Michael pretty much had no idea what was happening. But he took a deep breath and decided to deal with the wood elves, who seemed to worship him with every fiber of their bodies. Even the members of his dark army didn't look as loyal and faithful as these wood elves.

Suddenly, Michael heard a thunderous scream in the distance. Suddenly, a red smoke rose to the sky through the forest. The place where the red smoke was coming from was the same place these elves came from.

"What is that?" asked Michael, moving his gaze to the red smoke in the distance.

"Call for help, Dark Lord," the old elf answered. Intense fear glistened in his old eyes.

"We should try helping them. These elves seem desperate," Ayag whispered in Michael's ears. Among the three heads, Ayag was the least merciful one. But even she felt pity for the elves and wanted to help them. Michael was not going to ignore them when they seemed to worship him as a god. They were like the dark army, only more loyal and faithful.

"Then I should answer the call for help," Michael slowly ascended into the air as the elves gasped in shock. Their faces went pale. The village elder looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"Lead the way," said Michael, hovering in the air. It took a few moments for the elves to snap back to reality. Then, they climbed onto their mounts and flew toward the red smoke. On their way, they stared at Michael with awe and disbelief. Their expressions were beyond words. On the other hand, Michael was in love with this new world. Everywhere he turned, he saw lush forests with magical birds and sapphire blue trees that glowed like neon lights. The air smelled fresher than any other cultivation continent. Magical was the word that appeared in his mind when looking at the world.

The golden butterflies flew through the air like fancy kites. The butterfly with the elder on top flew relatively close to Michael, and eventually, a cozy village built on top of the trees appeared in Michael's sight. Michael was in awe, wondering how these elves managed to build a village around the trees above the ground. The tree houses he saw when he visited the dark elves were a far cry from this village. Through the giant blue trees, Michael vaguely saw a giant wooden pillar where the wood elves gathered around.

Little wood elves bounced up and down, waving their hands, seeing the butterflies in the air. The grownups, however, looked tense and clenched their hands together against their chests. They were praying for their god to return. Through the canopy, Michael descended to the ground. Countless wood elves gasped and cried out loud. Just like the village elder and the wood elves accompanied him, the villagers dropped to their knees immediately after seeing Michael.

"Our god has answered our prayers!"

"We are saved!'

"Dark Lord!"

The villagers shouted out loud. Looking at them, Michael couldn't help wondering how they quickly identified him as their god. But he soon got his answer when Sarba asked him to turn around.

"You should see this," Michael heard Sarba's startled voice. As he slowly turned around, he saw a wooden carving of a man in the tall wood pillar. Although the features were not precise, he resembled Michael. The two swords on his back and the hydra on his shoulder were dead give away. He turned his back on the wood elves and stared at the wood carving for a few minutes. The wood elves didn't dare to utter a word. As a result, silence returned to the place.

Strangely, the carving's eyes were radiating a dim light. When he looked closer into the eyes, Michael noticed a rune in each eye. It was so tiny that an average human or a wood elf wouldn't notice. Finally, Michael turned around to greet the wood elves and hear why they called for help.

"You," Michael's gaze swept across the wood elves and landed on the village elder.

The village elder raised his head to look Michael in the eyes.

"Stand up," said Michael.

"What's your name?" Michael asked the elder.

"Kirat, Dark Lord," the village elder answered with the utmost respect and reverence toward Michael.

"Hmm," Michael nodded, flicking his wrist as the throne made of skulls and bones materialized behind Michael. He sat down and put one leg atop the other.

The wood elves were once again startled by a simple act such as this. To the wood elves who grew up without arch energy or cultivation, everything Michael did was nothing short of a miracle.

"Now tell me why you called for help," Michael asked Kirat.

"The demons, Dark Lord. We are failing in the fight against the demons,"

"Demons?" Michael and Vedora were stunned by Kirat's answer. They immediately thought of Azazel and his race. But Michael was skeptical about the demon thing. He never thought the wood elves named the Skyhall soldiers the demons. To be honest, the wood elves didn't even know there was a separate race called demons that existed in the universe.

"Are these demons here to punish us because of something we did or didn't do, Dark Lord? Are you punishing your children?" Michael almost coughed up blood after hearing the elder address themselves as the children. But he had to keep a straight face and go along with this. After all, god hood did come up with some quirks like this. Besides, it didn't seem like a good idea for them to tell the wood elves the truth about the universe. Instead, Michael planned to be their beloved god. This way, Michael would have an entire population working for him, collecting everything he needs and being loyal to him in exchange for protection.

"How long have you been fighting these demons?" Surprisingly, Cain questioned the elder for some reason.

"Since two years ago, Lord Cain,"

The elder surprised Michael by addressing Cain using his realm name. Moreover, he came to this world two years ago. It seemed like the demon attack and his appearance had some kind of connection.

"How do they know our name?" Ayag whispered into Michael's ears.

"And demons? Are they really fighting the demons?" asked Sarba.

Suddenly, Michael sensed someone rushing toward them in his Environment scanning. When he looked over the crowd of wood elves, he saw a wood-elven woman land on the wood platform using a rope lift mechanism.

"We have to save Tazkin," the woman said before collapsing down.

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