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Season 3

The Elf ambassador sent to negotiate the terms of surrender had been gone for over five hours. The soldiers and knights dug trenches together arm to arm. Their classes united together under the high powerage of the Crown. A soldier's smile cut through a face of grease as he mounted a rotating gun. The carpenters began the installation of makeshift bomb shelters for high command. This line of fire had been placed on the main highway out of town, while the large siege machines stood stationary all along the outskirts of the city. They all waited on the deadline of the twin moons at midnight to signal action.

Edward gently followed a path set for him in the trench tapping in nails with the side of his crystal hooked hand. The nails quickly sunk into the wooden beams reinforcing along the trench. The smell of composting socks, soiled underwear and fresh dug soil was overwhelming. A group of knights played poker in a dugout while soldiers waited in line with bowls to be filled from a steaming cauldron. Above the operation more reinforcements dropped in on ropes from hovering drop-ships.

“Sir, a ransom letter for your mother has arrived,” said the royal messenger approaching.

“And the return address?” he said, rising in his father's gleaming uniform.

“12345 Killin Wood is listed,” replied the messenger, saluting green.

“Very well, I know this area as being a parcel of our Empire timber preserve,” said Edward, hooking the letter from his five fingers, and ripping it to pieces with a slashing motion.

The runner scampered away, with his hands covering the rear in fear.

“I’ve been teased for a conquest for so long that I can’t take this constant setbacks, strategizing, and delays much longer before I snap like a spring,” he cried, as he started pacing.

Edward stomped along, and stamped down his foot on a bug. “It’s good trying to keep my subjects safe, but the reality is whether they are related by blood or not, everyone is equal in my eyes except me. In this ever increasing land of cheap lives, where fresh bodies are birthed for my empire with every tide we must advance for crystal pride,” he finished inspecting his attached impaling device.

General Cap ran to his leader giving the blue salute at his feet.

“Sir the Elves have accepted the sale of their city, and their airships are departing as we speak without a fight,” said the general, handing the King the keys to the city.

“On my order then,” said Edward.

The fleeing ships began dotted the skyline above the tall buildings, as more and more filled the air. The first in line to make a break for it was flying directly overhead. The magma crystals powering them crackled while sparks rained onto the trenches below. Some soldiers covered their heads with shields while their king outstretched his arms and his mouth formed a wide grin.

“Now!” he commanded.

The guns began to fire, and the Elven ships began to fall in flames. A soldier cranked an anti air gun as the others around him refilled the ammo bin. A transport crashed into another blowing up in mid air. A loud whistling sound as one smashed into the big gun blowing debris in every direction with a massive explosion in the desert sands.

“That was close,” laughed Edward.

“The fools thought that currency has the same value to me as it does to them. They miscalculated as my drive is nothing but the pure and noble human desire to conquer, dominate, and only then can a government be set up to make what remains free,” he finished, as the Knights hauled a hard case to his feet.

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Edward opened the case, and unboxed a legendary royal rocket launcher. It had a stylized dragon painted, rainbow charms, and chains wrapped around the tube for aesthetic reasons. He aimed for the Elf ship escaping while Cap slid a rocket down the end.

“Let's see how they like the heat,” Edward said, launching a seeking missile.

It flew across the sky dodging other projectiles flung from the empire all around. The fleeing ship was gaining speed but not as fast as the missile slowly gaining ground on the target like a flying shark. It was lit up by the moons overhead.

“Boom!”

The missile hit and everything aboard was engulfed into an inferno. King Edward laughed. He dropped his rocket and motioned for his nearest men to climb aboard with him onto the royal car. Cap was among the knights who clung to the roof rack.

“To the city as fast as you can, for now comes my favorite thing after killing, and that is destroying pretentious art,” commanded Edward to his chauffeur.

The gang of lackeys onboard gave their best laughs. The vehicle accelerated, smashing a barrel of schlock all over the windshield.The Elf city grew closer after the windshield wipers cleared the liquid intoxicate. The magma turbo flamed propelling the car forward at maximum overdrive. A ramp was dead ahead launching them high into the air. The last Elf transport just happened to be straggling out of the city, and flying far too low. The wheels of the car slammed down on top of the airship. Cap undid a grenade with his mouth and dropped it aboard.

The car revved, running over an Elven scout who had used the aircrafts roof access to investigate the commotion. An explosion rocked behind the car that came crashing to the ground. The fully intact vehicle was barrel rolling through the air. A burst of a jet corrected course and they crashed and landed back onto its wheels at a stop.

“Good thing I have all my cars outfitted with anti key scratching materials for sticky situations like that. Now where do you think we will find the museum?” asked Edward after catching his breath.

“Knowing the Elves there will be art for us to destroy on every corner,” laughed a knight in the back seat.

“I don’t care about the lesser stuff, I need to personally oversee the destruction of art that they have given the most awards to,” said Emperor Edward Eying hook.

They drove around slowly looking for museums, learned academies, scholarly societies, or other high art institutions to burn to the ground. Finally the large pyramid at the very heart of the city came into view. Painted on the side facing them was a mural dedicated to the art of advertising. It showed the polished bodies of the most beautiful Elf enhanced with products engineered by head corporate Elf themself.

“Oh maybe I will loot a new skincare regime for myself” Cap loudly clapped with glee from the roof.

“You will leave the darkest eyeliner for the best looking,” scolded Edward as the vehicle came to a stop.

"What about the nail polish?" Cap inquired.

"That we can share as I don't need much with only one hand," replied their Emperor quickly waltzing up the steps to the pyramid.

The heavy door guarding the enterprise was also a triangle. It was already unlocked and opened above their heads. A Knight covered his eyes in pain, as others looked away. Inside the pyramid everything was crystal bouncing and amplifying the outside light. Cap slammed the door behind them and the beams of light calmed enough for human eyes to see without pain.

Edward continued past the front desk into an atrium that stretched all the way to the top point. A fountain of golden liquid trickled down from the mouth of a giant crystal Elf in a business suit.

"Ah ha now this is their most prized art of the founding father of all modern Elf," said Edward looking up.

"Now we will need the finest artist of demolition to do his work" laughed a knight.

"That's me" announced Cap running forward with his trusted satchel of things that go boom.

The others broke apart lesser art all around. The king had walked into the next room where a library of the finest books on business, advertising and self help ever written on the entire planet were being stored.

"Well well it's going to be hard work to burn all this art" he said, stabbing the nearest book and leaving its corpse on the floor.

Edward returned to the lobby as Cap was wiring plastic explosives to the feet of the founding Elf CEO.

"When you're ready to start blowing, commence with it!" cried Edward.

“It’s my specialty,” said Cap, grinning.

They walked leisurely to the exit. Cap ran in the opposite direction with a detonator in his hand. He pulled the trigger somewhere unseen. The statue's base exploded, amputating the legs. The rest of the giant wobbled as the fountain sprayed the walls coming undone. In a matter of seconds it came crashing down into the center of the atrium shattering windows or sticking things in sharp crystal shrapnel kicking up a fog of dust. Most of the party was reduced to fits of coughing except for Edward. His throat and lungs had already been hardened from a lot of previous crystal exposure. It might as well have been confetti signaling victory.