A high elf rushed out from the camp, one of the last to join the ranks. He pushed his way to the front, offering hurried apologies as he squeezed past others. His presence drew uneasy stares from his fellow soldiers, yet he kept moving, determined. Eventually, he reached the group of eleven soldiers standing front and center in the line.
Elron stood firm, whispering, “Maris, what’s happening?”
“There’s been an enemy sighting. They’re repositioning us,” she replied.
A horn sounded, and the army began moving again. This time, however, they marched for only an hour before it became abundantly clear where they were heading. In the distance sat an enemy force, seemingly the same size as the one they had defeated once before. However, the exact makeup of the forces was still unclear, leaving a sense of unease in the air.
Elron’s squad relaxed for a brief moment, believing they would camp atop their own position. But the horn blared again, and new orders came down. They were instructed to abandon their defensive position and head for the encampment above them. Elron couldn’t believe the sheer foolishness, and neither could those around him. Their disbelief was written all over their faces.
Ascending a steep incline toward a well-rested and likely well-prepared enemy encampment felt like madness, but they had no choice. Elron summoned his shield spell, pouring as much mana as possible into it, and led the wedge formation up the hill. Then, faint whistling noises filled the air, followed by the cracking sound of rocks hitting shields and bodies. Cries of pain echoed around them as the enemy rained slung stones down from above. While many of the stones clattered harmlessly off the shields, others found their mark, smashing into faces and dropping soldiers instantly. Their bodies were left behind, trampled by those still marching, now reduced to mere casualties to be collected later.
The barrage of rocks eventually ceased as they neared, and the enemy revealed themselves—dog-like creatures, yet clearly not kobolds. These beings radiated intelligence and resolve, far more formidable than simple beasts. As the lines drew closer, Elron caught the scent of wet dog fur and saw the tips of their spears poking from behind crude wicker shields. At the last possible moment, the enemy charged downhill, meeting the elven line with fierce determination.
The force of the impact pushed the elven soldiers back several paces, turning the front line into a frenzy of chaos. Elron imbued his sword with sharp wind magic, slicing through any weapon that came too close. He chopped spearheads to pieces and smirked inwardly as some of the dog-men tried to fight him with little more than broken sticks. Still, he ignored the weaker foes and focused on those who posed a real threat.
This enemy was different—they were organized, disciplined. As Elron cut down their weapons and injured them, they seamlessly rotated out wounded or fatigued soldiers for fresh fighters. It was a far cry from the disorganized rabble he had faced before, and it left him frustrated.
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Elron’s frustration grew as he fought. Every dog-man he faced seemed to be his equal, dodging and parrying his attacks with relative ease. He feinted, slashed, even swung at enemies he wasn’t directly facing, but they dodged at the last possible moment, leaving him more aggravated.
Suddenly, a new horn blast cut through the battlefield, its high-pitched wail echoing over the shouts and howls. Half of the army broke away, rushing downhill to support thee cavalry, which had engaged another tribe of beastmen. Elron’s line was starting to falter. He could see his comrades struggling to maintain their ground.
He couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Balmer, it’s time for you to uphold your end of the deal!” Elron shouted, his voice filled with determination.
Without a word, the cursed sword in his hand grew to twice its size, erupting in vivid green flames. Elron stepped back, raised the massive blade high above his head, and bellowed, “Void Slash!”
A dark purple arc of energy manifested as the sword completed its downward swing, slicing through the wolf-like warrior standing directly in front of Elron, splitting him nearly in half. The warriors behind him were either missing limbs or layed dead. For a brief moment, the enemy line wavered, but the gap was quickly filled by more dog-men eager to fight.
Elron smiled, pleased by the challenge. He stomped the ground, casting thunderboom. Arcs of lightning shot out in a cone in front of him, knocking several enemies off balance. He wasted no time and hacked away at them, slashing relentlessly as they struggled to regain their footing and sense.
The battle was devolving into complete chaos. The tight formations were gone, replaced by scattered individual skirmishes. With the larger, more powerful version of his sword in hand, Elron swung in wide arcs, cleaving through any beastman who dared stand in his way. Those unlucky enough to block his attack were cut in half, while others scrambled to dodge the deadly blade.
As Elron continued to fight, he noticed something peculiar—the enemy had brought everyone to the battlefield, not just combatants. Whether they were combat classes or not, they fought, standing shoulder to shoulder with their more experienced warriors. It didn’t matter if they were strong; without combat class abilities or spells, they were no match for him. Elron grinned at the discovery.
With a roar, Elron mana-stepped into the air and unleashed a fireball into the enemy’s rear ranks. The explosion rocked the battlefield, and as he descended, a wave of dizziness hit him. He had overexerted himself with spells, and the mana exhaustion was taking its toll. His head spun, his vision blurred, but he gritted his teeth and kept swinging his sword.
By the time Elron found himself leaning on the hilt of his sword atop the hill, his body trembled with fatigue. His eyelids drooped, his vision barely clearing the fog of exhaustion, but around him, the elves were cheering. They had done it—against all odds, they had pushed their way to the top, defeating and capturing their enemies, winning a literal uphill battle.