The Princess' Harem -
Chapter 120: The Elysia’s Battle (5)
Chapter 120: The Elysia’s Battle (5)
The chaos that swept through Arin’s legions was absolute. A sprawling army, accustomed to steamrolling its enemies with sheer weight of numbers, found itself in a nightmare.
From the east and west, the Elves moved like liquid silver and green shadows, striking with impossible speed. Their arrows flew in silent, deadly volleys, each one finding its mark, often glowing with a faint, destructive magic that bypassed heavy armor.
Elven blades, long and slender, dances with a terrifying grace, cutting down Arin’s soldiers before they could even react. The Elves’ agility was mesmerizing.
They flowed through the battlefield, weaving around the slower, heavier movements of the human soldiers. They darted between swings of greatswords, sidestepped charges, and reappeared behind enemy lines, sowing panic and death.
The magical beasts were even more terrifying. The giant stags charged with bone-shattering force, their antlers skewering multiple men at once.
The massive, furred creatures - forest guardians awakened by the elves - ripped through formations with claws and teeth, their roars deafening, their presence radiating ancient, untamed furry.
The treants, slow but unstoppable, brought down their heavy, root-like limbs with crushing force, pulverizing siege engines and enemy groups alike. Elven mages, their faces serene even in the midst of battle, conjured thorny vines from the ground to snare and impale, or unleased blasts of pure, concussive force that sent whole companies flying.
Arin’s commanders screamed orders, attempting to pivot their forces, but the sheer scale of the flanking attacks, combined with the psychological shock of battling magical creatures and elusive elves, crippled their efforts.
Formations dissolved into desperate skirmishes. Supply lines, already strained by the siege, were now severed by agile elven raiding parties. The overwhelming advantage of numbers began to crumble under the relentless, precise assault.
On the walls of Elysia, Viana watched the spectacle with a mix of awe and a grim satisfaction. The despair that had choked her just moments before began to recede, replaced by a surge of desperate hope.
She saw Eryndor leading the charge on the eastern flank, his figure radiating a powerful, green aura. His command was fluid, his movements effortless, even in the thick of the brutal fighting.
Joel, his sword still in hand, stood beside her, his breath ragged. "They move like spirits," he whispered, his eyes wide as he watched the elven warriors. "We’ve never seen anything like it."
Reyes, though still a formidable fighter, could only nod, his own grim face reflecting a similar amazement. The mercenaries, led by Daniel, seemed to be thriving in the chaotic melee, their pragmatic approach perfectly suited to exploiting the confusion sown by the Elves.
They moved into the breaches, pushing Arin’s now-disorganized soldiers back, consolidating Elysia’s hold on the walls.
Marion, venturing to the battlement edge, observed the elven magic with a fascinated, almost clinical eye. "Their control over the natural world," she murmured, more to herself than to Viana. "It’s... incredible. A profound understanding of essence beyond anything I’ve ever encountered."
Arden, slumped against a parapet, watched the battle unfold, a small, weak smile touching his lips. He wasn’t thinking of ledgers, or financial damage caused by this war, but of simple survival.
This, he realized, was their chance. A chance they hadn’t dared to dream of.
As the day progressed, the initial shock wore off, and Arin’s vast army, though reeling, began to reorganize. They were too numerous to simply break and flee.
Arin himself, a formidable figure of brute force, bellowed orders, directing his elite shock troops to form defensive lines against the elven incursions. He started pulling forces away from the direct assault on Elysia’s walls, sending them to meet the new threats.
The sounds of battle changed. The relentless battering on the gates lessened, but the plains around Elysia became a massive, sprawling battleground.
Roars of magical beasts mingled with the clang of steel, the hiss of elven arrows, and the thunder of human charges. The Elves, though outnumbered by Arin’s entire force, fought with a calculated ferocity, avoiding direct confrontations where possible, relying on their speed, archery, and magic to whittle down Arin’s legions.
By nightfall, Arin’s army was no longer besieging Elysia’s capital with full force. Instead, they were fighting for their very survival against the relentless, unconventional tactics of the Elven host.
The glow of countless fires in the distance marked the sprawling, confused lines of Arin’s army, now stretched thin, trying to contain the elven attacks from two flanks.
Viana stood on the battlements, the wind whipping her hair. The capital was safe for now, the immediate threat of breach averted.
But the war was far from over. This was a new, complex battle, waged not just at the walls, but across the entire plains surrounding Elysia. The Elves had bought them time, a chance.
But Arin’s army, vast and still powerful, remained a deadly threat. And the full weight of the Elven commitment, and their true motivations, were still unknown.
***
As the first stars pricked through the smoke-laden sky, a soft, ethereal glow appeared beside Viana in the battlements. Eryndor materialized, his presence as quiet as the rustle of leaves, yet radiating immense power.
His elven armor was unmarked, his long silver hair untouched by the grime of battle, a stark contrast to Viana’s own weary, dust-covered form.
"Princess Viana," Eryndor said, his voice a low, melodic tone that cut through the distant clamor of battle. His eyes, ancient and wise, held a glint of the fury he had unleashed.
Viana turned to him, her relief warring with her pressing questions. "Eryndor. I... owes you a debt beyond measure. You saved us. But... why? Why join a human war, and bring the ancient guardians of the forest with you? Your people rarely interfere with the affairs of men."
She gestured towards the plains, where the magical beasts continued their terrifying work.
Eryndor’s gaze hardened, focusing on the distant, struggling lines of Arin’s forces. A cold, quiet anger settled on his features, transforming his beauty into something formidable.
"Our reasons are many, Princess. But primarily, it is a debt we pay. Not to Elysia directly, but to the land itself. To the life essence that was corrupted. We wish to pay back to the blight."
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