Chapter 158: Attack On Eldryth

The moment King Theron vanished, Vamir wasted no time as the gravity of the situation demanded immediate action.

He swiftly made his way to the heart of the Elven capital, where the other High Elves were gathered.

Vamir recounted Theron’s brazen attack, the destruction of their barrier, and the human king’s chilling parting words.

They met the news with dread, as they new that somehow the news of the death had leaked. That made them believe that it was the humans responsible, but they decided not to address that yet.

Their first, most crucial step was to awaken Loryn from his closed cultivation, but his awakening brought a fresh wave of grim news.

"I have not succeeded. My control and will have sharpened, but I am yet to fully master my three elements. So far, I have completely mastered but a single element, and that, alas, does not make me a Sovereign."

A heavy silence descended upon the High Elves.

They had hoped Loryn would emerge as a full Sovereign, capable of directly challenging the human king. Now, that hope was dashed.

Loryn, sensing the despair, straightened his shoulders.

"Regardless, we will defend Eldryth with every fiber of our being. We will stand as an unbreachable wall against this human’s insolence. They will find no easy victory here."

His words, though a stark reminder of their peril, reignited a flicker of resolve within the High Elves.

Preparations began with a renewed, grim determination.



The first order of business was to inform the entire Kingdom. A somber announcement echoed through the Elven capital, carried by enchanted winds to every corner of Eldryth.

The news of the impending war and, more devastatingly, the confirmation of Queen Gaya’s demise struck the populace like a blow.

A collective gasp, followed by a wave of mournful silence, swept through the Elven people. Yet, there was no time for prolonged grief. The looming threat spurred them to action.

They allcollaborated, their discussions urgent and focused on forming an impenetrable defense against the human onslaught.

Loryn initially proposed an aggressive strategy: intercepting the human army outside their borders or taking the battle directly into the magical forest.

This, he reasoned, would reduce casualties within their cities.

However, Caelar countered, "While such a strike might indeed reduce casualties, it would sacrifice our home advantage. For certain, the human king will accompany his forces. To meet him in open battle, away from our prepared defenses, would be to play directly into his hands."

The others immediately recognized the wisdom in his words.

"We will be able to give them a good fight if they meet us here," Vamir asserted, his gaze sweeping over the strategic maps laid out before them. They had already meticulously assessed their forces.

Eldryth, though a small continent, possessed a unique advantage: every single Elf was blessed with a natural affinity for magic.

While the vast majority were 1-Star Mages, even that made them inherently stronger than average beings.

Furthermore, Eldryth boasted an unusually high concentration of high-ranking mages. There were about 15 8-Star Mages alone within their ranks!

With the news disseminated and the defensive plans solidified, a potent mix of confidence and dread permeated the Elven kingdom.

They awaited the inevitable day, their resolve tempered by the grim understanding of the conflict ahead.

The Elves, however, were not entirely in the dark. A network of highly skilled Elven scouts had been dispatched the moment King Theron had vanished from their barrier outpost.

These scouts continuously monitored the human army’s slow, relentless advance. They reported back with alarming regularity, relaying details of the sheer scale of the invading force, the composition of their ranks, and their precise trajectory.

And so, one day, the scouts returned once more to deliver the long-dreaded news: "They are here."

***

Within hours of the news, the Elven defenses sprang to life.

The moment the human army became visible on the horizon, the Elven planned response was immediate and overwhelming.

A deafening WHOOSH filled the air as thousands upon thousands of meticulously prepared spells and ranged attacks rained down upon the approaching human forces.

Spells ranging from the raw destructive power of 9-Star incantations to the focused blasts of 1-Star magic saturated the air.

Bolides of pure energy, shards of razor-sharp ice, bolts of crackling lightning, and gusts of gale-force winds converged into a cataclysmic barrage.

Under normal conditions, the sheer force of this coordinated assault would have utterly cleansed the entire gathered army, leaving nothing but scorched earth and vaporized bodies in its wake.

But this army was far from normal.

High above the advancing ranks, King Theron had long since abandoned his magnificent white steed.

He ascended into the sky, his form a dark silhouette against the burgeoning dawn.

As he closed his fist, his eyes began to glow with an infernal, fiery light, and he seemed to enter a meditative trance.

With a ripple of power, he instantly snuffed out the vast majority of the incoming spells, his focus primarily targeting the high-ranking incantations.

Within a mere second, roughly 80% of the spells simply winked out of existence, their power nullified before they could even reach their targets. The remaining 20% were handled by the rest of the human army – shields came into existence and counter-spells were hastily cast.

A few spells managed to breach the initial defenses, striking their targets with varying degrees of force.

No casualties were sustained, but four knights and a mage were visibly shaken, unable to continue in the fight after being struck by the lingering debris.

There was no time to assess the full extent of the damage. Even as the last of the Elven spells dissipated, the human army had already begun their charge, their own spells crackling to life.

Just as King Theron concluded his defensive maneuver, a sudden shift in the magical currents of the battlefield drew his attention.

He was about to unleash a massive retaliatory strike, when four distinct figures showed up in his vision.

They hovered effortlessly in the air, forming a loose circle around him. Their chiseled physiques, long, flowing hair, and grace immediately set them apart from the rest of the Elves below. These were the High Elves.



No words were exchanged between the five, and for a tense moment, no one took the initiative to attack.

Theron’s lips curled into a slow smile, a hint of surprise in his eyes as he recognized their ability to fly.

"You’re not Sovereigns... Interesting," he mused aloud.

Loryn, at the forefront of the Elven quartet, did not dignify Theron’s observation with a reply.

Instead, his voice, calm yet resonating with an unyielding authority, cut through the tension.

"This is your last chance, King Theron. We can settle this amicably. Abort this war, and return to your kingdom."

Theron spat below, not bothering with where it landed.

"Never! I’ll teach your puny race a lesson to be etched in the history books!"

The four High Elves exchanged grim glances. At Loryn’s declaration of, "Suit yourself," all hell broke loose.

Kilometers above the ground, a battle of unparalleled magnitude erupted.

The sheer force of the unfolding conflict illuminated the entire battlefield below, drawing the eyes of countless soldiers and mages, many of whom struggled to even comprehend the scale of the power being unleashed.

King Theron, initially, found himself on the defensive.

A relentless barrage of varying, intricately organized elemental attacks was hurled at him.

~WHIZZ! CRACKLE! WHOOSH!~

Bolts of lightning arced, torrents of water surged, gusts of wind tore at his form, and shards of ice fragmented the air around him.

He struggled, visibly, to contain the onslaught, his movements a blur of defensive maneuvers.

Yet, as quickly as he managed to dispel one wave, another would follow, a seamless, coordinated assault that spoke of teamwork among the High Elves.

From an outsider’s perspective, it appeared as though Theron was genuinely struggling, perhaps even being overwhelmed.

But in truth, he was merely assessing, probing their defenses, and gauging their collective power.

Just like his opponents, he knew this would not be a simple skirmish. They were starting controlled, each side carefully deploying their initial strategies.

After many minutes of deftly dodging a thunderous bolt of lightning, nullifying a swirling vortex of wind with a flick of his wrist, and evaporating a volley of ice shards with a burst of heat, Theron finally decided to up his game.

The clouds above them seemed reflect heat as brilliant and searing aura of flames enveloped his entire body.

With newfound aggression, he began to relentlessly attack and push the High Elves back.

The tables had turned. Now, it was they who were forced into a desperate defensive.

The fight prolonged, an aerial ballet of immense power. Occasionally, Theron would revert to his normal appearance, the fiery aura subsiding, but the intensity of the struggle remained balanced.

Neither side seemed to be gaining a decisive upper hand anytime soon. Yet, this apparent balance belied the sheer power involved.

The battle, which had initially commenced directly over the Elven boundary, had, through the sheer force of their exchanged attacks, pushed them deeper and deeper into the magical forest.

Explosions of raw elemental energy illuminated the trees below, and the ground trembled with each concussive blast.

The High Elves fought with incredible organization, pulling off complex, synchronized spells that allowed them to keep pace with the Sovereign.

Loryn spearheaded their offensive and eimultaneously, he was largely responsible for the overall defense, casting elemental shields and barriers to deflect Theron’s relentless assaults.

Meanwhile, far below, Duke Miralith and Duke Thalren, who were originally intended to assist King Theron against the Elves, found themselves spectators to a fight far beyond their comprehension.

Their expressions were a mixture of awe and disbelief as they witnessed the sheer magnitude of the High Elves’ power.

The aerial combat was simply too high of a level for them to partake in.

And it wasn’t as if they were having an easy time either.

The two 9-Star Dukes were currently facing off against a group of ten powerful 8-Star Elven mages, and they were barely keeping up.

Thalren brought up a massive earth shield, the ground groaning as it rose to block a powerful wave of pure flame.

~CRACK!~



"They’re only 8-Star," he grunted. "how are they so strong?"

The battlefield below the titans was a maelstrom of chaos.

Spells erupted in blinding flashes of light, and the cries of battle filled the air.

After almost an hour of relentless fighting, a subtle shift began to emerge.

It could be observed that the Elves, through their coordinated efforts and sheer numerical advantage in the lower ranks, were slowly, but surely, gaining an upper hand against the human army.

King Thalren noticed this grim reality as his flame shield was once again shattered by a barrage of Elven ice shards.

"It’s time I change things."

***

While Eldryth was engaged in a full-scale battle, a small, group had halted before an invisible barrier nestled deep within the magical forest.

This group, consisting of just twenty individuals, all possessed the distinctive pointy ears and beauty that easily marked them as Elves, though their faces were currently etched with a grim determination.

One of them, a lithe female Elf with eyes the color of emeralds, looked at the others.

"This is it. Let’s destroy the barrier."