“This is no longer a war, this is a massacre,” Princess Eowyn muttered fearfully as she gazed upon Nuckelavee, who was like a God that swung its spear to smash the Ancient Golem into broken pieces of stone.
The Elves forced themselves to not scream in fear as their Guardian was smashed in front of them. They then gazed at the Monstrosity that towered over them, who had now set its sights on new targets… namely the Elves.
“Stop him!” Princess Eowyn ordered. “Stop him at all costs!”
The two Blademaster that served as Princess Eowyn’s bodyguard glanced at each other before resolving themselves.
They summoned their weapons and armors before charging towards the Pseudo-Demigod that had just obliterated their Guardian. Although both knew that they were not its match, they just couldn’t possibly stand by and do nothing as members of their race were slaughtered without mercy.
“Die, Monster!” One of the Blademasters shouted as the sword in his hand glowed brightly. “Crescent Flash!”
A five-meter-long blade of light slashed down on the Devil that had its back turned on the Blademaster. The blade cut off Nuckelavee’s right arm from its body, which made the Elves that encircled it cheer.
However, what happened next immediately brought them despair.
The severed right arm that laid on the ground casually flew in the air and re-attached itself to Nuckelavee’s body. The Devil of the Sea then turned its head to look at the Blademaster with a teasing smile.
The Blademaster’s body became stiff and unmovable due to Knuckelavee’s devilish stare. Even though the Blademaster had the rank of a Saint, it was nothing compared to an existence that had fought against Demigods during the Era of the Gods.
With a simple thrust, Nuckelavee’s spear pierced through the Blademaster’s chest, killing him instantly. It then chuckled and threw the body to the side as if it just killed some random elf.
The Devil’s laughter had gripped the hearts of the Elves and made them feel despair. Some of them were even starting to think that this was all a dream. A terrible nightmare that they should wake up from, or else they would die in their sleep.
Drauum, who had once again reformed itself, smashed its body towards the monster whose evil knew no bounds.
The Ancient Golem called forth the power of the Earth to entrap Nuckelavee in an Earth Prison. The land answered Drauum’s call and rose up to wrap itself on the monster’s body. Soon, the Devil had been firmly trapped in a rock prison, forming a small mountain at the center of the battlefield.
Elandorr, and the Patriarch’s had just breathed a sigh of relief when a powerful explosion erupted in front of them. The Stone Mountain blew up like a volcano and sent rocks and dirt flying in every direction.
A moment later, Drauum was sent flying by a powerful blow that erupted from the tip of Nuckelavee’s spear.
Drauum didn’t know that it had stepped on a landmine when it decided to imprison the monster in a dome of soil and rocks.
Nuckelavee hated being imprisoned. Since the Demigods were unable to contain him, they decided to just ask the Gods for help to deal with him. The God of the Earth rose up to bind Nuckelavee with the Earth, but just like what happened to Drauum’s attempt, it ended in failure.
Only the Gods of the Sea managed to effectively entrap Nuckelavee in the depths of the ocean. However, even that entrapment only lasted for a few months. When Nuckelavee broke out of its watery prison, it became more enraged, and this time, it rampaged until the Giant Race was almost wiped out from the face of the world.
The Gods then knew that the Monster didn’t like to be bound and every attempt only made it stronger, and madder with rage. This was how Nuckelavee got the title “Devil of the Sea” because the moment it rose up from the ocean, it had completely become a Devil that no one in the world of Hestia dared to fight.
Nuckelavee’s eyes turned bloody red as it charged towards Drauum that had failed to stop it. With a thrust of its spear the Ancient Golem was once again destroyed. After destroying its target, it sweeped around him, slicing the bodies of the elves within thirty-meters around it in two.
“By the Goddess!” one of the Patriarch’s gasped as the Devil glared in their direction.
Elandorr and Shefal also felt the Devil’s stare and it filled their hearts with dread.
Right at that moment, A Winged Serpent riddled with bloody holes on its wings, and body, fell down from the sky.
Before the Elves could even react to this new development, A Golden Dragon and a Giant Deer, came crashing down from the sky as well.
One of the wings of the Golden Dragon was torn off, and the Giant Deer had lost one of its Antlers, leaving a bloody gash on its head.
Everything descended into silence as the Elves looked down on their fallen Guardians with pale expressions.
Suddenly, a soft sob was heard.
One of the teenage elves had finally lost her composure and cried. This was the spark that started everything. The Elven soldiers who were at the frontline of the war turned their backs on their enemies and started to run away in panic.
The women screamed in despair as mass hysteria spread across the Elven Ranks.
“Stop running!” Elandorr shouted. “Deserters will be killed on sight!”
His voice was loud, but none of those in front cared for his orders. In the face of existences that had even defeated their Guardians, what role did a mere cannon fodder have to play?
In a desperate attempt to restore order among their ranks, Elandorr nocked an arrow on his bow and shot one of the Deserters that ran away from its post. His arrow flew straight and true and embedded itself in the Elf’s head, killing him instantly.
However, that was a mistake.
A very big mistake.
Fifteen seconds hadn’t even passed since the Elf had fallen on the ground when it once again stood up. Its eyes that blazed in a bluish glow stared at Elandorr with the arrow still sticking at its forehead.
It then gave a guttural cry before charging at the nearest Elf, biting her neck with its teeth. Although this was not the first time they had seen this scene happen, the way the Elf died was different. They didn’t die from the enemy’s blade, but at the hand of their own Elven Commander.
The Vanguard then stared at Elandorr with undisguised fury. They had already lost their reasoning due to the madness that was happening around them, but seeing their own kind, killed by their Commander, and then turning into an undead made them feel that they were just disposable pawns that could be tossed away at any time.
While their minds were in a confused state, a soft voice that offered an olive branch reached their ears.
“Those who don’t want to die, I will give you a chance to live,” a Half-Elf whose red hair swayed in the breeze said with compassion. “Anyone who can bring Elandorr to me alive will be spared. Not only him, but the Patriarchs of the Elven Race as well.
“I promise on my handsome face that those who heed my order will not die today. This is a first come first serve basis. For every Patriarch that you capture, I am willing to spare twenty people. As for the Elven Commander, I am willing to spare fifty people.
“There are Six Patriarchs here, so that sums up to a hundred and twenty people. If you add Elandorr that would bring the total to a Hundred and Seventy. According to my rough estimate, there are still over two million elves remaining… among those two million, I will only spare a hundred and seventy.”
William chuckled like an innocent teenage boy that had just received a kiss from a beautiful girl. However, instead of spreading happiness, it spread despair to the entire Elven Race who was on the verge of a mental breakdown.
“Stop! We surrender!” Shafel shouted. “You won this war! We accept our defeat!”
William stopped laughing and stared at Shafel who was standing at a raised platform.
“So, what if I won?” William asked back in a teasing tone. “What of it?”
“There is no need for us to continue this bloodshed,” Shafel said in a respectful and polite manner. He also bowed his head in apology. “We are willing to heavily compensate you for our transgressions.”
If anyone from the Elven Council could see the domineering Elder of the Gilwen Clan, they would probably rub their eyes in disbelief.
Shafel had never bowed his head, and acted in a respectful manner except when he was in the presence of the King. Even the Head of the Elven Council, and Arwen’s father, Theoden, didn’t receive any polite words nor acts of respect from the proud Elder of the Gilwen Clan.
It just proved how dire their situation was.
William looked indifferently at the bowing old Elf as he raised his head arrogantly. “I believe that I mentioned earlier that I will not ask any of you to surrender.”
The Half-Elf paused as he let his words linger in the air for a few moments before continuing his speech.
“Meaning, I have no intention of accepting any form of negotiations or surrender,” William said coldly. “What I want to see… is for all of you to die.”
“You can’t do that!”
A familiar voice reached William’s ears. The Half-Elf turned his head to the side to look at the Elven Princess whose tears were falling down the side of her face.
“This is not something the son of the Saintess would do!” Princess Eowyn shouted. “This is not something that the son of our Hero would do!”
William chuckled for a brief moment before shaking his head. “Princess, do you think attacking the Kingdom of the Hero that saved your race is something that the Elves should do? Do you think it is something that those who owe our family a favor would do? I think not.”
The Half-Elf stared down at the entire Elven Race with disdain from on top of his Bone Dragon.
“You are the invaders, and oppressors. You conquered our lands due to your greed and arrogance. Did you even stop to think that those whom you conquered would one day rise up and point their weapons at you?
“Did you not even think of the possibility that they would rebel and conquer you back?”
“Did you ever think that a repeat of the Demon Race’s invasion would not ever happen again?” William shook his head. “If you think that way then all of you are fools. Now, enough talk. Those who want to live, you know what to do. Those who don’t want to live, you can just stand to the side and wait for your death.”
The Undead Legion encircled the Elven Army, leaving no room to escape. On William’s order, the countless skeletons, and undead soldiers stepped forward, in order to herd the Elves and make them compress against each other.
“Only a few will live. Are you one of those select few?”
William’s devilish words spread across the Elven Army as their willpower wavered. One by one they stared at Elandorr, as well as the Elven Patriarch’s who were standing at the raised platform at the center of the army.
No one wanted to die, if there was a way to live then why not take it?
