1 Run you Fools!

The day was growing darker as on a flat plane of grass two armies stood on either side of the land. The ground was littered with craters, weapons and bodies of the fallen. The smell of blood and decayed flesh was all around.

Fires raged in the background from the last battle, giving the only light to the soldiers with the clouds blocking the light of the stars.

The battle had been waging on for days with no end to the bloodshed in sight. The warriors on both sides stood glaring at the other in anger, blaming all of the other side for this war. And as the two sides started to get jittery from the long wait a horn was blown, signaling the start of the next battle, and the men gave a heartfelt cry at the enemy as they charged.

Behind the two armies archers took positions and fired at the command of their officers. The arrows having left the bows all gave a whistle as they sped through the air heading toward the opposing foot soldiers. The very sky was blotted out from the number of arrows.

The ground shook harder as the two armies, one of men and the other of demons, clashed. Both sides fought with a ferocity of animals, and while the demons side had the advantage of numbers, the army of man just fought harder with tooth and nail.

Blood and limbs flew in all directions as blade meet claw in the epic clash of forces. The soldier's eyes blood red in partial madness from this constant danger and death.

As the two forces of man and demon clashed a storm raged on from above with lightning striking some demon soldiers, as if the goddess of storms, Tempest herself was helping in the battle. But even with the storm raging on the fighting only paused for a second until it continued as explosions riddled the field of death with unholy flames.

The army full of demons had many different types spread across the battlefield. With some in robes gathering mana and hellish flames, and larger demons wielding clubs. Even smaller skinny ones with large wings on their back taking flight.

The army of men had its own types, with some in full plate while others looked like simple farmers given swords. It was an army hastily put together in only a small amount of time, there was little to no known coordination in the ranks and only a few commanding officers.

It can only be called a miracle of the gods that this army has stood in the way of this demon horde for all this time. Although much of the human armies survival can be attested to the tactical genius of the commander of the army and his fellow officers.

The one in charge of this ragtag army was currently standing at the back of his men, watching the battle with calculating blue eyes. The commander was standing atop a hill in the back, and although he may not seem to be able to contribute much to this battle in the back he was a master level mage.

It should be known that the world of Astalan is a supernatural one with gods, monsters, and other magical beasts. To survive this harsh and unforgiving world the sentient humanoid races of this planet discovered a way to control the magical energies of this world which they named mana and these practitioners of the magical energy became known as mages.

Mages are rare with only one mage out of a thousand people since only a select few has what is necessary to control mana. But with mana the mages can control, and they can harness the eight elements of the world around them like fire and earth as they please.

With the title of mage comes with it different ranks and power levels. The rank of master is a high one, being the apex of what a normal mortal can achieve. Even with having one master mage on the side of a war can greatly change the outcome of a battle, and currently on the side of the human army sits one such being.

The hood on the robe was currently pulled back so his face was visible. He was an old man with a hint of mischief and humor in his eyes that currently was not there. His face was worn out with age with long white silver hair tied back with a band, while a short unshaven beard graced his face. He wielded in his left hand a black wooden staff and wore a gray robe.

Right now the old man had a look of deep concentration as he focused on the enemy mages and was coming up with a plan to deal with them. Although the other side has mages, there's are low level and can only produce a simple fire ball.

That is unless they combine their power in to one spell The old man thought, but it takes considerable skill and guess work to get it right so he waved that thought off.

But as the old mage was thinking this a ball of fire the size of a boulder flew from a group of enemy mages. It traveled through the air landing on a group of soldiers. The fireball went off with a loud bang sending a blast and shockwave through the ranks, throwing soldiers in every direction.

He was shocked speechless at the sight as a few men were rolling around on the ground still on fire from the enemy spell. There screams shook him out of his revere and he quickly conjured some water over the men to put them out.

It was one of many oversized fireballs getting thrown at them. Though occasionally a blade of wind or a spear of stone would appear from the old mage and hit them, causing them to detonate early before they could reach the rest of the ranks, but still chaos from the two armies clashing was everywhere.

Where even the sky was not safe from the battle with small child sized figures flying around while they rained down arrows.

Luckily the master mage sent a gust of wind to knock the arrows off course and into the demons ranks. The deflected arrows sailed through the air, traveling even faster from before doing devastation to the demons, killing or wounding many.

One of those flying figures saw this and in anger at its fallen brethren it flew at the commander in rage. As It got closer and closer to him though he could make it out.

It was a Flyer demon, a follower of the dark god, luckily it was only a low level demon so all the mage did was lift up his staff and send a simple blast of wind at it. He was more occupied with blocking the enemy spells than taking care of a simple demon.

Though with that simple wave of his staff the air mana had obeyed his order and became a compressed ball of air the size of a fist. After it finished forming it shot out at the demon like a cannonball.

All this had happened in mere seconds which goes to show the amount of skill and power a master wields.

The ball of air hit the demon, and as it connected the air was released all at once, the air blast sent the demon sprawling through the air landing on the ground.

Still it struggled after its rough landing and it started to get up until a group of soldiers broke off from the army and surrounded it, stabbing it with spears before it entered its last breath.

Just as the mage stopped another fireball from reaching the men with another wind blade, cutting it in half before it detonated midair, a horn blew in the distance signaling the enemy into a retreat. Though not before they took out a few of the humans in the mad dash back.

After the horn blew and the group returned from killing the flyer a soldier from the scouting party he had sent out before the last battle ran up to him after returning from the enemy lines and saluted.

"Master Merrick!" The scout said breathing hard, tired from the last few hours of fighting, weakening but from what the old mage or Merrick could see from the light in his eyes he was still strong in spirit. He kneels in front of Merrick with his head down.

"Sir! it seems the demon's plan is to pull back and regroup for one last attack by overwhelming us with numbers. They will send everyone as they are no longer worried about a trap, and are planning to use there most recent reinforcements as well." the soldier says all at once, winded from all the running and speaking.

"It also appears their commander is personally going to the front lines for this last attack, although we have no information on who the commander is."

He takes a deep breath and with a little fear and trepidation he adds.

"We will not last much longer if this continues, what are your orders sir!"

The scout looks up finally after a long wait of silence, looking at the man that has been their savior and hero by keeping them all alive throughout this battle. Merrick had a look of deep concentration etched into his face, his robe billowing in the wind and his black shadowy staff flouting by his side waiting for its master's call.

While on the outside the soldiers can see nothing but a wise old mage planning an ingenious plan that would save them all. On the inside though Master Merrick was freaking out!

Still he looked through all his knowledge of cool speeches from movies that would help him in this situation. He was trying to give hope and inspiration to these men, but really he just wanted to look cool and tried to think up something wise to say.

If he had said these things out loud there would have been a lot of confusion on to what the word movie means since the term is alien to these natural inhabitants of Astalan.

They have no concept of the word because movies don't exist on Astalan, plus movies are from another world, but so is Merrick.

The old man finally sighs and opens his wise looking sea blue eyes, and looked at the scout and the rest of the army that is waiting with bated breath for his orders until finally he speaks.

"Men I will not lie we are in a hopeless situation and as we speak the demons are gearing up for one final attack on us."

The mages voice is deep and with those words the guards, farmers, and craftsmen turned soldiers looked down dejected finally starting to feel the effects of battling for so long. It seemed the mages words had the opposite effect then what Merrick planned.

"But!" the old mage hurriedly continues seeing the situation quickly get out of hand with only a few words. "we are not fighting that army to win the battle, but to make sure our loved ones can have a future!"

The aura of hopelessness that once clung to the soldiers seems to be dissipating with the mages words. With that sight Merrick continues with a steadier voice, a voice filled with power.

The old man starts walking toward the front of the line calling his staff to his hand he uses it as a walking stick looking ever the wise wizard as the men part a path for him and the commander continues.

"The demons want destruction and chaos, they want to utterly destroy the whole human race. So for every life we save this day is a blow to them and a victory for us, and I don't expect you to die for me." his voice rises as he gets closer to the front of the army and pauses once he makes it, once there he looks back out at them straightening his back.

He is about to continue the rousing speech when he realizes he overlooked the obvious fact that at the front of the army and on an open flat plane on ground level only the front row can see and hear him. The soldiers behind the front row are shuffling around trying to get a look and straining their ears to hear.

Before when he was in the front he was on top of a hill he could be seen and heard. In the heat of the moment he overlooked this fact and wanted to look cool so he started walking to the front.

He starts mumbling with his face flushed in embarrassment. If the men where closer they would have heard the mage say in a quiet voice.

"The movies make it out very differently, thank the gods that at least I've watched Braveheart before all this happened, wish I had a horse though." with a voice a lot like a teenager going through puberty than the deep and wise old voice they heard not a second ago.

He coughs into his hand before the earth around him shifts and rise's into a platform at his mental command so that the army can see him, and a light flashes around his mouth where a glowing circle appears.

He coughs once more as if to clear his throat when the sound is transferred to the ears of everyone with the help of sound magic. At this everyone stands at attention in front of the mage waiting for the rest of his speech.

"As I was saying I don't expect you to die for me, NO! I expect you to fight! Fight for your friends, sisters, brothers, fathers and mothers. I expect you to fight for your ancestors, gods and all that have lead you to become who you are today! Fight so you can repay back all those years. Those creatures" he says pointing out at the demon army.

"out there want to take everything you helped create and destroy it, burn it to the ground while they dance on your ashes and murder your loved ones!"

The soldiers start pounding there weapons in tandem in rage with hope and righteousness growing in their eyes.

The mage raises his own now glowing staff into the air and continues "This day you can forget about prophecies, or chosen ones, and all that Junk because you are not just side characters or cannon fodder! You are not merely soldiers because this day, this glorious day…" he takes a deep breath, almost feeling the tension in the air.

"YOU ARE HEROES!"

Although they did not get the side character thing they understood the rest and with that everyone raised a battle cry so fierce that the ground shook and the very air trembled in trepidation for what's to happen next. But over the field and into the enemy camp a figure in the biggest tent heard it.

"WHAT IS THAT RACKET!" A voice boomed out of the tent which was once quiet with only the sound of a loud snore.

By now the owner of the tent had woken up from the roar of the opposing army, and the tent belongs to none other than the commander of the demon army.

A red giant of a demon, with a crown of black horns coming from his forehead, with giant leathery wings, and a tail that looked like it belonged on a dragon and not a demon.

In all a body that looked like it was sculpted from volcanic rock by a mad man.

The commander was Ragumoth the Demon General of the Abyss, he was a berserker in fighting and in every other sense of the word who only relies on brute strength and overwhelming magical might.

Right now Ragumoth's now flaming eyes were trained on a quivering shape that wanted to be anywhere else but here. "SPEAK SLAVE!" the demon commander yelled at the small form slamming down his fist into the throne of bones he was just resting on.

"I-It a-appears th-that the enemy is gearing up for battle yy-your great unholyness!" the slave spoke in the corner of the tent in a scared choppy voice, groveling down low not daring to look up.

The slave looked like nothing more than bones with skin on it, malnourished and with plenty of bruises and old wounds obviously brought about by the demon whether in a fit of rage or just because he was bored.

The giant commander snorted at the slave no longer angry just annoyed, this was how things usually were around Ragumoth whose mood can change from calm to angry in a second.

This is quite scary considering he is fifteen feet tall, and with enough strength to kill you with a snap of his fingers. That's not even accounting for when he uses magic to strengthen himself.

The commander gets up from his chair while grabbing a sword that was resting on its side that looked between a crossing of a sword and a chainsaw. Ragumoth looks down at it giving a predatory smile and says in a dark and chilling voice

"Although we were supposed to wait for the army to be prepared I will just go ahead on my own and destroy that puny thing they call an army, you can join me when your ready."

The commander says this to another form on the other side of the tent in much better armor than the rest. The figure looks like a death knight covered head to toe in full black armor, with two charcoal red eyes peering at Ragumoth from the visor.

The armored figure salutes Ragumoth, who as he walks out with the giant sword is waving back, exiting the tent. The hustle of the demon camp soon stops as he walks out.

The whole camp is quiet not daring to make a noise in fear of the giant demon, but Ragumoth ignores the army and looks at the direction of the opposing army. With an evil grin and madness in his eyes he jumps.

The spot where Ragumoth lifted off of has a giant crater created from his strength, and a boom sounds out which sweeps away any nearby demons and tents.

At the same time Merrick is just finishing up his speech. "And they may take our lives but..." the mage stopped speaking and looks up in the sky with a scared look seeming to sensing something.

Feeling the evil power and speed of the object scares Merrick almost witless, but still at the last second Merrick tries to call upon as much power as he could before...

BOOM!

A massive shock wave more powerful than any other came about just as the object came crashing down sending up a mini mushroom cloud. Dust flew in all directions blinding all the men who were in shock from the surprise attack.

An eerie demonic laugh could be heard from the cloud scaring all the men. Suddenly a clap could be heard, sending a shockwave that caused all the dust to scatter in all directions until all was clear.

When everyone could see again the front row of the army gasped as just a foot from where they stood was a giant crater filled with lava.

What was even more surprising though was the giant blue cracked energy shield that seemed to have protected them. Like a cracked window, it was on the verge of breaking down.

At the front of it stood Merrick who looked like he took the full blast with no protection, as his robe was burnt all over, and he appeared to be extremely weak from summoning the shield.

At the center of the lava crater stood the demon commander of the dark army, The Demon of the Abyss Ragumoth, who had just clapped away the dust. He looked at the army in a mad and hungry way when a voice broke through the fear the demon was causing.

"RUN YOU FOOLS!"

Merrick said this with energy crackly wildly around his body and collecting in his palms. When the red giant saw this he only laughed mockingly at the mages attempt to scare him and ignored the puny conjurer.

The demon started licking its lips in the direction of the soldiers when a thunderbolt struck him in the face. The demon was caught off guard and was pushed back a step.

He was shocked that someone dared to attack him and could only open his eyes after clearing them. His face and body though was undamaged, without a scratch on him. Ragumoth glared at the mage in anger for trying to injure him.

In the demon's way was Merrick or secretly known only to himself as Alex Fowler and Alex could only think of one thing at this moment as the army retreated behind him.

How the hell did it all turn out this way.