Even after having slain about fifty of the bandits, there were still more and more coming after each minute that passed. The reinforcements came out of the forest as if waiting to be the next victim of the sword-saint.

  Graftel was as if a butcher slaughtering anyone in sight. His hands, his sword, and his entire armour was covered in blood, yet there were no signs of exasperation or worry. He was just slaughtering, but it was still troublesome if the enemy reinforcements never stopped. Even a lion could fall against a million insects.

  Suddenly a rain of arrows came out of no-where, and pierced through a horde of enemies that was advancing towards Graf. At first, he was alarmed as he thought that there might be more hidden bandit archers in the forest, but after observing that the target of the arrows were only the bandits, he understood who had arrived.

  “Sorry for the wait. I rushed as soon as we were done.” Sarial arrived on the battlefield.

  His scouts remained in various spots hidden in the forest —shooting down any enemies who stepped outside the forest. Even though these were only half of the total scouts, their precision was out of the world. Each arrow killed a bandit without straying from its target.

  “What happened to your party?” Graftel looked relieved upon seeing him.

  “We won. There are no more enemies left that came towards the caravan.”

  Graftel sighed with relief without noticing a sullen ,and sorrowful expression on his comrade's face.

  “You can rest now commander. I and my men will take care of the rest,” Sarial offered.

  “No need. I have longed for a battle for sometime now. I want to indulge in this blood-shed some more.”

  Graftel wore a sinister expression on his face which scared his enemies as they were drawing near. Some even ran back with their tails between their legs. The sword-saint was too much for these small flies to handle. They ought to have given up a long time ago, but these weak honor-less fools thought they had a chance.

  However, the situation had changed. Now that Sarial, and his men had arrived as well — the bandits did not even have the advantage of numbers left. They were left at the mercy of the elves who were oozing with blood-lust.

  Farelen was still in a stalemate. He slashed and slashed, but his small opponent always escaped narrowly.

  As for the beastman, he was also quite frustrated. His slashes and cuts were landing, but were doing little to no damage to the monstrous skin of his enemy.

  The beast-man was fast, light, and silent on his feet whilst the giant, Farelen's, single swing made even the ground tremble.

  Again the beast-man leaped towards his opponent. This time, however, he harnessed the abilities of his own race.

  With natural agility, he leaped high, gaining enough height to look as if he was soaring in the sky. Soon, he launched himself, mid-air, towards his opponent — gaining incredible speed, with machetes held right infront as if a the horns of a bull. This skill could have taken down any great fighter, but the one who stood infront of him rubbed shoulders with the strongest of men alive.

  Farelen swung his great-axe with such force that a slash went straight towards his enemy cutting straight through air itself.

  Of-course, it was non-lethal yet this small action prevented his opponent from following the right trajectory, making him fall to the ground right infront of his opponent. Seeing this great opportunity, the giant did not waste a single second, and swung his axe once more—

  Just at the moment of impact, the intended was able to deflect this move whilst having sacrificed one his blade. The beast had escaped away, whilst the place where his opponent had brought down the mighty axe had a crater.

  The result remained the same, both of them had not made any progress again. This duel could have gone for days, but then suddenly a command came:

  “Farelen, stop wasting time, and finish this fool already. We have still a lot of things to do,” Graftel ordered him while stilling slashing down any bandits that he could sight.

  Upon hearing the orders of his captain, he threw down his axe. Now unarmed, he taunted his enemy by a hand gesture — signalling him to strike which greatly infuriated the beast-man.

  The beast-man vaulted towards him like a hungry wolf. This time the strike finally connected, and one of the machete went right through Farelen’s hand, however, it was stuck there. It was all according to the plan of the giant. He then proceeded to grab the little beast with his other hand by the neck, and lifted him off the ground effortlessly.

  The beast struggled, of-course, trying to do all sorts of tricks to get rid of the strong grip, but he just could not manage that. The last thing that he saw was the grin of his opponent who did not even show an ounce of pain on his face while having a literal blade stuck in his other hand.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  That was the end of their duel. Farelen came out victorious. He threw away the lifeless body of his opponent, and rushed to help his commander but—

  There were no more bandits left. The one that had ran away were being chased, and killed by the scouts brought by Sarial. All of the remaining party returned towards their injured marksman who was out of danger for now.

  After getting the sword out of Farelen's hand, Graftel casted a basic healing spell once more, stopping the bleeding for now.

  They finally sat down. Farelen had not shown it, but he was exhausted after the fight. It was partly his own fault for wasting so much time playing with his enemy.

  “Sarial, give me the details of all that has occurred over the other side. How many of our men are alive?”

  Graftel did not waste any time in inquiring all the details, especially now that they were finally free to talk.

  Sarial reported that almost quarter of their men had died while quarter of them were left severally injured, but they would survive thanks to the students of Iquaral. Then, while looking down, he reported the death of their party’s commander, Fitz, as if it was his shortcoming that had caused it.

  “Oh, so he died. How did he go in the end?” Graftel asked with a heavy heart, but he did not show the sorrow on his face.

  Fitz was like a younger brother to him. He had lost many great friends in his lif, but Fitz was different. He had fought in many battles alongside him. He was younger than Graftel, and most importantly he was a student of his.

  Graftel had great plans for his fallen comrade, none the less, he knew that this was the path he had chosen. Men taking the lives of other should make up their minds that they could get killed in the process as well. A warrior has more than his life to lose thus he should always remain prepared to bear them.

  “He died while having taken down his opponent as well,” Sarial replied with a proud yet gloomy face.

  Graftel smiled at this response. Fitz lived and died like a warrior, and that was the most honorable way for an elf or any warrior to die.

  After all was said and done, they inspected the area once more to look for anymore of the remaining bandits.

  Graf ordered for Sarial, and his men to remain near the cliff for the next few days in-case anymore of the scoundrels tried to settle here or rebuild their base.

  As for his party, whatever of it remained, they went back to the village. They had been victorious, but the losses had been far too great to celebrate. Every single one of them knew that they had to deal with deaths in their profession, but it was still difficult to lose someone so dear with whom they had shared so many moments....

  Whilst the battles were being fought on multiple fronts, the village remained peaceful.

  Landel had tried several times to go help out his fellow men, but was everytime stopped by Harwin and Alisa who had been instructed by the chief to keep an eye on his grandson.

  A day had passed, and no news came back from either parties and that greatly worried everyone in the village. However, the chief did not let reinforcements leave as he trusted in the judgement of the chief-commander.

  It was in the evening that one of the scouts arrived in the village. He had been sent by Sarial before he had decided to leave to help Graftel’s party.

  The scout went straight to report to the chief. Harwin and Landel were present there as well.

  “I have been sent by captain Sarial to report to you that under the leadership of commander Fitz, we have successfully managed to defeat the bandits on one front.”

  Everyone’s face lit up upon hearing the news, but the bad news was yet to come:

  “Unfortunately, commander Fitz died while dueling against the scoundrel leader of the bandits. He fought with bravery and protected his men from the evil demon that was ravaging our men. It was a great battle. He took down the enemy before passing on himself.”

  A sudden gloom spread throughout the room, but the chief still steeled his nerves and questioned:

  “Anything else? How many men have died from our side and how many are injured?”

  “Quarter of the men have died while quarter were severally injured, but thanks to the chief-mage’s students they have not died. The rest have sustained injuries but are able to move around just fine. Almost all of the bandits have been killed while some have been captured as well. Only commander Fitz died in the leadership while all the other captains have not been injured at all.”

  “Right, then we better prepare for their arrival. Is there any news about Graftel’s party yet?” Lief inquired.

  “No, captain Sarial sent me straight to the village to report while he made his way to the chief-commander’s location himself.”

  “That will be all then. You should go ahead and rest now. Landel, go inform Iquaral about the injured younglings that will be arriving soon. It will be better for him to prepare anything necessary for their treatment beforehand,” The chief commanded.

  “It is quite sad to lose that boy, Fitz. He was second only to Graftel when it came to leadership. He was even named his successor by the man himself in-case of retirement from the position. The lad was capable and level-headed, but none the less he died in the most noble way. We shall honour him, and remember him in our memories till the day we die,” The chief addressed the room.

  Harwin did not know how to react as they had won, but the losses were too many to celebrate. Landel stood beside him before leaving. He noticed his gloomy expression and said:

  “We live and we die, that is the most important thing that you must remember while fighting. The ones who are being hunted, killed, slain or murdered by you, innocent or guilty, have the equal right to attack you for a chance to live as well. Those men did not die for you, they died for the village — for their families. What you can do now is to uphold their deaths, and make the best out of it. If you can provide a stream of income for the villagers — a way for their families to have a proper sustenance, proper lives then those lives are not lost, but were sacrificed for a greater cause. The responsibility is great, but that is what you yourself accepted once you made your mind to help our village.”

  Landel spoke freely as there was no-one around to interrupt, so he was able to put his thoughts into words perfectly. These words gave abit of ease to the conflicted heart of Harwin.

  It was not till very late hours of the night that the party under Graf made their way back to the village. They had been scouting around the whole area before heading back, and also made sure no-one followed them so it took time to arrive.

  Graf reported to the chief’s house first. The mission was now officially successful, the battle of authority over the entire dominion of the great-forest had been won by the elves once again. Now all that was left, was for Harwin to help implement the second phase of the plan.