The two commanders came face to face, tension filled the air. Archers, who had become one with the forest, had the enemy marked incase of an unexpected development.

  The elfin commander, Graftel, stood there with a great force behind his back while the enemy commander, Shultz, had only few men left beside him — many had been killed while rest deserted — yet the back of this man did not turn towards his opponent. Commander Shultz might have been arrogant and egoistic, but he was no coward.

  None spoke for a while but then the silence was finally broken by the elfin commander:

  “Shultz, I have much respect for you as my senior and comrade. You are one of the few who were enlisted before the ministers came in power. I do not approve of you still being part of that broken shell of the royal army, but it might be a for a reason that I am not aware of, so I give you the option to retreat with your men. I promise a safe passage for anyone still stanidng.”

  Graftel had pity in his eyes which further angered the proud Shultz.

  “I will never make a deal with a traitor. You are a stain on the royal army, and I shall deliver justice in the memory of the late Commander Artredies. I always knew that your selection as his successor would cause great disorder and chaos. You and that beast were always so full of yourselves. Truly a disgrace!” He vented all his anger in the spur of the moment.

  “What royal army? The ones who are left in it are just dogs that were tamed by those scoundrel minister, their job is to bark and bite when commanded and they even fail to do such simple tasks. The honourable ones, your friends or your comrades, have all resigned from their positions so I must presume that you also one of those dogs? If that is the case, then I shall put you down so you may not stoop down the name of the great Artredies any further.”

  Graftel was furious, his gaze was enough to scare the last of the men. Most of the enemies were taken a back by the immense pressure this individual was releasing. He was immensely strong yet the pride of Shultz did not allow his resolve to falter.

  The human commander readied himself. He wielded trusty sword and shield, awaiting for an attack.

  However, Graftel did not attack. The sword-saint simply pointed his massive great-sword towards his already agitated enemy which made his opponent charge towards him. A mistake one would expect from a rookie.

  Shultz attacked Graftel who stood still; he slashed with great power, but these were easily deflected by the mighty elf. Sparks flew off each time the swords of the two clashed. This continued for a while, Graftel had not countered even once whilst his opponent had almost depleted most of stamina.

  Now, Shultz was even trying to create distance to catch a breath. Graftel upon seeing that his old comrade — now turned enemy — was exhausted, did not waste a moment.

  He for the first time in the entirety of the battle took a stance and then launched himself towards his opponent, covering several yards in the blink of an eye—

  In the end, the body and the head of his opponent laid separated on the battlefield, separated from eachother in such a way that there was not even the slightest of blood spillage. It was as if the body had yet to notice that it had lost its most vital part.

  This was only the glimpse of the power of Graftel who had yet to fight with full strength.

  The great royal army officer laid dead on the battlefield. Now even if Shultz was a mediocre leader, he was still much better and experienced than the rest of the royal force which meant that this was a huge blow for the humans.

  After this event, reinforcements had also died out. The remaining town guards closed the gates of the town, taking refuge inside it without pushing for another attack. They waited for more reinforcements to arrive which were most definitely not coming. Their own numbers were far too low to even consider launching another assault, the bodies of their fallen comrades filled almost the entirety of the forest grounds.

  Hundreds had fell victim against a small force. This was no battle, rather, it was a massacre. The powerful warriors under Graftel were far too much to be handled by the inexperienced peasants sent by the local lord, or even the royal army for that matter. The lord of the town now could only wait and pray for a miracle.

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  After a week of no new assaults from the enemy’s side, Graftel finally decided to take the offensive — a rare thing for him to do.

  They smuggled themselves in the town. Hiding their identities in the darkness of dusk, they made their way right towards the manor of the local lord. In the morrow, it was discovered that the elves had assassinated the lord with his entire family including women and children.

  It is to be made clear that Graftel was no hero at this point in his life. His heart was filled with rage and vengeance. Indeed, he had killed without mercy and only cared about protecting his own people, a polar opposite to his master Artredies.

  Graftel ordered for the heads of the lord and his family to be displayed in the town square. Further more, he ordered for setting the whole town ablaze which was an extremely out-of-character action for the sword-saint, but it proved to be necessary later on.

  This command was carried out by burning the storage compound in the middle of the town which contained barrels upon barrels of an oil like substance — highly combustible. These was stored there to burn the forest at stake, of course, the opportunity never arrived to do so. It was ironic, to say the least.

  Before burning the town, civilians and even soldiers who had laid arms were escorted out. In the end, this catastrophic event was blamed on the ministers who were already infamous for betraying their people for the slightest of benefits.

  The word quickly spread which resulted in waves of terror being sent across the whole continent. Now even the ones supporting the royal capital became reluctant to further help them in their atrocities against the wood-elves. More-over, now the general public was also in support of Graftel which could have resulted in a total rebellion in the royal capital.

  Graftel by this plan had not only eliminated the threat to the southern great-forest but also painted himself and his race as the true victims in the eyes of almost the entire continent. The powerful feared him whilst the weak saw him as a symbol of hope.

  As for Yhorm, the old friend of Graftel, he had established a mercenary group. The members consisted of many of his old comrades who were mainly beast-men, but he had also purchased a few slaves who he had noticed to be too powerful to be left alone. Interestingly there were some demons as well — namely two brothers. The slaves were quickly won over by Yhorm who harnessed the show of strength and charisma to inspire loyalty.

  Yhorm was the leader of a mercenary group, someone who was supposed to work for money, but in truth, he worked to protect the great forests. He would often ambush any royal forces, who were marching towards the elfin settlements.

  The storm-sword was helping his old friend in way he could. He also spread news about the victories of Graftel as much as possible, describing his narratives to the local public to win them over to the other side. It worked quite easily as the public was already desperate and hated their rulers. This resulted in many more rebillions in the states of the empire.

  It was not as if everyone had been charmed away by the wood-elves. There was a group among the beastmen who were bought over by the ministers. It was a tribe which was ferocious and blood thirsty against anything or anyone. They had little to no sense and were only after fulfilling their carnal desires, the opportunity for which they were provided plenty by their new benefactors.

  These beast men ravaged two great-forests and its inhabitants, killing without mercy and not even leaving children alive. They also took the elfin women as slaves, but of course, karma bites back.

  One day, as they were returning back after committing their atrocities, they saw a small group charging towards them. Leading the group was a giant man wielding a great-axe. It was the mighty Farelen, who had been sent over by Graftel under the command to wipe the enemies from the face of this earth.

  The beastmen’s leader was arrogant, ruthless and proud. However, he was killed by Farelen in single-combat without even the usage of his weapon. Infact, at the start of the fight, the giant had casually thrown away his battle-axe.

  Farelen dodged the slashes from his furious opponent, and he even managed to catch the weapon his enemy with bare hands — breaking it in the process.

  The beast's head was torn off his body by the mighty elf whose eyes were filled with blood. Farelen and his group annihilated the entire tribe of these primal beastmen in a single day, not using guerrilla tactics, but facing them head-on in an open plain. The name was spread across the continent: “The Elfin Giant".

  The defeats that the ministers suffered were small at first but now all of their tactics had failed, and they were left with no able commander in their force. Most importantly, their own towns and cities were on the brink of rebellion; the soldiers in their personal army were nothing more than armed civilians with little to no experience to deal with an internal failure much less an external one.

  The royal war-council consisted of incompetent men who were shared blood with the ministers or had won favours by flattering their way up. In-comparison, the force they were facing was that of the mighty sword-saint, who was currently deemed to be the strongest man in the continent besides Yhorm.

  Infact, Graftel was rumored to have even defeated an army of a thousand men all on his own. This was the elf trained by the strongest man in the world, Artredies, so naturally he was to accomplish great feats achieved by none of the others.

  The war continued for another decade. Well it was not a war though, just armies or mercenary groups being sent to the Great-forests, only to be totally decimated by their opponents.

  Just as Silfordan was on the brink of collapse, a single man rose from amongst the ministers. This man and his lineage would bring back the glory of the mighty empire once and for all.

  The main story line will start from tomorrow.