8 Complete Annihilation

An army of 12000 men was currently marching through a massive plain. Most of the men were hired mercenaries and the whole army was broken down into small regiments of 2000 men for easier management.

The army was marching towards castle Burgen and multiple siege engines can be seen following it. It has already crossed the human-elven border and by now ransacked multiple villages for food.

Some of those villages have been human, while others weren't, but they gladly agreed to help out the army's effort. Well…as glad as one would be when met by a fully equipped army.

While most of the regiments were specialized in certain weapons a few of them were not. There were a lot of interesting looking groups, but a single one of them stole the entire spotlight.

Though it looked mostly the same compared to others, at the same time it didn't. Ten huge things were accompanying them. They were 3 meters high and the only way to describe them would be…steel walls.

They were fully covered in black colored metal which not a lot of people knew of. It was adamantite, one of the strongest magic metals there are. It's so strong in fact, that it could easily withstand a dragon's fire breath attack.

But just because of that resistance it is one of the hardest metals to forge. Usually dwarves are the ones who forge adamantite and make weapons out of it, because to melt adamantite at least a forge in the core of a volcano is required, but there are some cases of humans doing it. Though, if one had money and relations they could easily get a better alternative – lesmium.

As this incredibly dangerous group marched, other groups, who were the closest, gasped in fear. One of these walking walls held a live horse in its armpit. Some were surprised about the strength of this being, while others held onto their weapons and grinded their teeth while looking at this spectacle.

The huge walking wall slowly took off a pure black helmet and a horrific face was revealed. It had big yellow teeth that resembled tusks and its face looked like it belonged to an oversized deformed human. The face was covered in skin as thick as hide and its nose and eyes looked as if they were melted onto its face. It had small pointy ears which made it obvious – this is no human.

This being was a War Troll, a horrifying race of monsters raised by humans since infancy. They no longer fear outside light, like Trolls do, and are generally stronger than they used to be.

By monster rankings this monster belongs to the C rank, but depending on its equipment and armor it can go above even that.

As people started whispering amongst themselves, the War Troll slowly raised the horse and bit into it as if it was a sandwich. The horse was live at the time and shrieked in torment. The War Troll only glanced over it for a few seconds before biting the horse's head clean off. After a few more crunching sounds of it chewing the skull, the others backed away until the group was segregated from the army.

"What are you idiots doing!? Who in the hell allowed you to break formation! Get back there!" An angry shout came from behind.

A man riding a horse approached the Troll group. He was wearing full plate armor and looked like a real knight. Though, judging by his armor, which was almost completely covered in medals, he quite lacked modesty. It's as if he just wanted to rub them into everyone's faces and say: "I'm better than you."

His name was Lysander Rowe and he indeed was a knight.

The knight looked at the terrified men and loudly proclaimed. "Look! This beast is tamed and it's just a pet. No need to be wimps!" He then patted the War Troll's shoulder and after wiping his gauntlet with a cloth he looked at the men once again. When they, unwillingly, went back where they belonged, he nodded as if he did a great deed or something.

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While Henry watched the charade happen from further away he was thinking "What? Do you want a medal for it?" and tried to hold in his laughter.

"Stop slowing down, get moving." "When will we set up camp? My feet hurt and I'm starving…" One voice after another started complaining in Henry's group.

"Shut up wimps and get moving!" A deeper voice from behind shouted.

Henry looked behind him and saw the owner of the voice.

It was Arnold, the leader of Twelve Claws and his boss. He was riding a horse and was equipped in armor so new it still retained its shine. They started the march in the morning and the sun was already starting to set.

Henry looked into the horizon and watched the reddish skyline. His legs and feet hurt, he was hungry and overall exhausted, but he didn't complain. He considered all of this to be training. In a world filled with monsters, how will he live if he can't even do this?

He had no idea how far they have marched and in the end curiosity got the best of him.

"Say, leader, how far have we marched already?" Henry asked and looked at Arnold while trying to keep up his pace with everyone else.

Arnold looked at Henry and after a minute or so answered.

"Hmmm…I'd say about 30 kilometers? We've been marching the whole day after all."

Ahhh, what a pain. I'd rather not asked…it only made me feel more tired.

The army then marched a bit longer, until stopping right before the sun disappeared behind the horizon. Almost instantaneously everyone fell on the ground as if not caring whether they'll sleep in a tent or by a fire.

Henry, just like everyone else, dropped down on the hard ground and just enjoyed his rest. He was too tired to reorganize his equipment or even grab something to eat.

He just laid there before starting to slowly doze off. As he closed his eyes he unconsciously focused on his hearing. It was very relaxing just laying there, even on a hard surface, and enjoying the sound of wind and birds.

He fell asleep…

Or that's how it should have been.

"What's this annoying noise…?" he mumbled as he sat down and looked around. Hundreds upon hundreds of people surrounded him. Unlike a professional army, they were all equipped in different weapons and armor. Some people were starting fires while others built tents. There were also people just like him, who lazed around or talked to their comrades.

"Was I hearing things?"

Henry shrugged and didn't bother with it. He rested his head on a small rock and closed his eyes. But the noise came back soon after.

"What is…?...!!!"

With sudden realization hitting him, he hurriedly placed his ear by the ground. He closed his eyes and focused on his hearing.

He could hear something…it kind of resembled horses' hooves but was different at the same time… But the horses were sleeping…so what…

"It's an ambush!!!!!!!" "It's the enemy!" shouts one after another started going off in the distance.

Henry jumped onto his feet with his helmet ready in his hands.

"I can't fucking believe this, just let me rest already!" Henry shouted from a top of his lungs and prepared for whatever was coming.

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A chaos of a battlefield was taking place. Everywhere you looked people screamed and ran. Trampled bodies were littered around on the ground, while the unfortunate ones were turned into mincemeat.

The Elven Royal Sleipnir cavalry, only numbering 2000, was giving hell to its enemies. Humans struggled and died, while some managed to rally and put up a meager resistance.

Approximately 6000 humans stood in massive circle of people while extending rows upon rows of spears and other weapons, such as halberds.

The cavalry slowly rode around this massive human wall and after reorganizing, reissued their charge.

The elven cavalry, completely covered in shining mythril armor, slammed into the wall of flesh. Some of the elves fell off their Sleipnirs, others instantly died, but the meager resistance of humans ended with that.

People were stabbed, crushed and trampled by this overpowering military force. A small force of 2000 riders completely annihilated and broke the enemy army.

About a hundred flying horses were in the air hunting the remnants of the army and soon after the runners were quickly filled with arrows from the sky.

While those who, by some miracle, haven't died, were either putting up a resistance, running, or yielding, yet another group of people stood their ground atop a hill.

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Henry stood encircled by trembling and exhausted men. Most of them were archers, while the others were warriors or scouts. They numbered 1500 and surrounded themselves in a hastily made barricade, which consisted of dead bodies, stones, wood and anything else that was by hand at the time, atop a hill.

Henry belonged to the archery unit, since it was the safest position, and was stationed right in the middle. The men looked down from the top of a hill at their previously live comrades, but that wasn't the reason they were trembling.

The reason for that was the marching army of infantry coming closer towards them. They only numbered 500, but they were fully equipped with exceptional armor.

The sunlight barely spilled over the horizon and Henry was in such a grave situation at the moment that he wondered if this was his last time seeing it.

Henry squeezed his bow and nocked an arrow. Going down without a fight is not only idiotic, but the probability of survival drastically decreases too.

As the army slowly approached, Henry looked at his surroundings. The men lost their will to fight ages ago, but they knew their fate if they stopped now.

Henry planned on how to get out of this mess. If he ran, he would be quickly dealt with by the cavalry, and if he fought all he could see was death too. Staying also was not an option, because flying horses with riders on top of them roamed the sky.

If they wait they will soon die…

Henry racked his brain some more, but all he could see was death. A thought of surrendering came to his mind. The elves weren't humans so they might show mercy to those who surrender…but then again, mercy may mean instant death in some cases…

As the army slowly advanced up the hill a flash of movement caught Henry's gaze, ten massive dark objects were charging the enemy followed by a couple hundred men.

When the opposing parties clashed Henry could see elven warriors flying through the air or getting cut in pieces one after another.

"It's the Trolls!" "There's still a chance!" some men said loudly and the others instantly agreed to them.

For some stupid reason, the men around him, with newly found vigor, started undoing the barricade and bolting towards the enemy.

Henry had no choice but to follow them.

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A massive black figure swung its two handed sword and sliced a man in two. It was soon after followed by another three same looking figures wielding different weapons.

An Elf, with the name of Ingram, stood in front of such a huge figure. He was born in his small village, and after working and training dutifully for 20 years was finally assigned as a Royal Guard. He loved his country and wanted to somehow contribute to its future.

A huge battleaxe swept at him, but he narrowly dodged it and slashed at his opponent with his enchanted blade. This blade was his family's heirloom and was passed from one generation to the next.

Ingram slashed and slashed, then he pierced and pierced… but anything he tried to do was futile, because his sword deflected off of the adamantite plate as if it was nothing.

Ingram's arms felt heavy…the strength of that armor was unimaginable. As he grasped his sword tighter he noticed a shadow behind him. He quickly turned around and raised his shield.

An enormous weight hit his arms and he fell to the ground. The mythril shield cracked after colliding with a massive human sized mace. Ingram felt his arms break and was barely keeping himself from screaming in pain.

He tried standing, then limping…just anything to keep on going, but with the last bash he will ever see in his life, his head was crushed along with his helmet and skull.

The War Troll let out a terrifying roar that echoed across the battlefield and chomped down on his victim. The taste of human flesh was like a drug to them and it was only allowed on the battlefield.

"M-Monster!" "N-nNnooo!!! Help me!!" Elves one after another fell and screamed, but, even after witnessing their companions get eaten, none of them tried to flee.

Twenty Elves stood in a line with massive shields, while another twenty extended long spears from behind. This massive mythril wall slowly advanced and tried to surround the War Trolls.

Instead, the War Trolls roared in unison and all of them charged into the wall. Spears broke, men and women screamed…resistance was futile.

It was at that moment when a massive fireball smashed into the Trolls. They screamed in anguish, but did not seem overly injured.

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Henry looked at the War Trolls who were surrounded in scorched earth.

"It's magic isn't it? It must be right?" he questioned himself when another giant fireball flew through the sky.

After one more, enormous explosion, a single War Troll fell to the ground, but it soon stood up once again.

The monsters covered in armor did not seem to be worried, only very annoyed. They growled and roared at the person that appeared next.

It was a stunning beauty atop a silver-white horse. She had silver hair that was slightly dyed orange due to the falling sun rays and wore a silver colored robe which was reinforced with white metal on the areas around her vital organs.

"Adamantite is it? I did not expect for humans to have access to that…" she mumbled beneath her nose and slowly raised her white staff, which was embedded with various expensive looking gems.

Henry slowly closed in towards the beauty, he wanted to see magic, and he wanted to learn it… He followed his newly found desire while narrowly avoiding enemies.

As he closed in close enough to hear the War Trolls grind their enormous teeth behind their helmets a sudden shudder went through his back.

"W-wha…this feeling…something bad is coming" he fell to the ground after experiencing the same feeling he felt when he was little. The feeling of disaster, unstoppable death, was in the air.

The beauty's staff slightly shined and then she pointed it at one of the War Trolls.

"[Ancestor's arrow]!" she said loudly.

Henry looked around as if he was waiting for the world to end when he noticed the War Trolls. All of them trembled and looked around frantically.

"What happened?"

Did he not see it because he's not from this world? Did he by chance miss the amazing magic that he sought so much to see?

With a sudden thud his line of thought stopped as he saw a War Troll's body laying limply on the ground. Its armor was perfectly fine, apart from it being covered in blood and other unknown fluids.

"Umu, that's effective, is it not?" the beauty said with a calm smile on her face, yet you could feel a hint of pride in her voice. Then, without waiting any longer, she proclaimed with unexpected loudness. "Well then, fall back my brethren! It's time I annihilate this evil!"

The elven warriors quickly stopped what they were doing and fell back. In a matter of seconds only the beauty, completely surrounded by humans and other beings such as War Trolls, was left.

As Henry contemplated on her words, the mysterious beauty once again raised her staff.

"Attack!" "Get her!" "Kill her!!" the men shouted desperately and ran towards her, but it was too late.

The mage's staff started to shine even more brightly than before and then she said the 'magic word'.

"This is the end for you, [Windstorm]!"

The clouds suddenly dispersed and opened a dark blue sky. The grass fluttered and the hell on earth went loose.

A massive storm appeared out of nowhere and invisible blades started cutting one person after another, Henry too was not an exception.

Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Cut.

All he could feel was pain and misery, all he could hear was screams of dying men and roars of agony…All he could see was darkness…