chapter 7

The elves walked through the forest with light, almost imperceptible steps, like shadows gliding among the trees. The silence was absolute, broken only by the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. Ahead, a solitary figure stood out, seated on a moss-covered rock, shrouded in shadows. It was an elf, but not an ordinary one. His eyes glowed intensely, and his posture exuded unquestionable authority.

Upon recognizing his presence, the archers slowed down, and their leader signaled for the others to kneel. They obeyed instantly, bending their knees in a gesture of absolute respect.

"Your Majesty, we are finished," said the leader, his voice laden with reverence and resolve.

I looked at them, analyzing their determined and attentive faces. Beside me, the spearman serving as my personal guard remained silent and vigilant. A wave of power coursed through me as I confirmed the victory. The system had already notified me: 20 additional points.

My gaze fell on the first archer I had summoned since arriving in this world. He lifted his head to meet my eyes, his expression resolute yet respectful.

"Your Majesty, the village is defenseless. Only women and children remain. We eliminated the first group of hunters and then the search party they sent. If we strike now, they'll be easy prey."

I nodded slowly, absorbing the information. The archer's words confirmed what I had already suspected. But what truly impressed me was their perception and autonomy. My troops were not mere pawns; they were intelligent, loyal, and strategic beings.

The decision was clear. I needed to reinforce my army before launching the final attack. I mentally opened the system, and the translucent blue screen appeared before me.

"Summon troops," I murmured.

I selected three new archers and five infantry soldiers. As before, they materialized before me, emerging from golden and green light. Their movements were synchronized, their armor pristine, and the aura of discipline was almost palpable. Now, my army consisted of twelve soldiers.

I rose from the rock, my gaze fixed in the direction of the village.

"Prepare yourselves. We attack now. They are defenseless."

The response was unanimous, almost a roar:

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

The sound of weapons being adjusted and armor clinking echoed through the forest. As the spearmen marched ahead and the archers formed the rear, my attention turned to the first archer I had summoned, walking beside me.

"What is your name, archer?" I asked without diverting my gaze from the path ahead.

He straightened at the sound of my voice, replying with a subtle bow:

"Lucas, Your Majesty."

I nodded, assessing him. There was something about him—a cunning that set him apart from the others.

"Lucas, what do you think we should do with that village?" I asked, testing his loyalty and insight.

He hesitated for a moment but responded firmly, choosing his words carefully:

"Eliminating them is our duty, Your Majesty. As elves, we must assert our strength to ensure our dominance."

I laughed, appreciating his response.

"Yes, Lucas, but we must not act rashly. We will capture some prisoners. We need information about these lands."

Lucas smiled slightly, a gleam in his eyes indicating his immediate understanding of the plan.

"A wise strategy, Your Majesty. I will assign some men to handle this."

"Good," I replied. "I trust you with this task."

He bowed again before returning to his position.

As we advanced through the forest, the tension in the air grew. The sounds around us seemed more distant, as if nature itself had fallen silent in the face of what was about to happen. This would not just be a victory; it would be a warning to the world.

Lucas would lead the capture group, while the remaining soldiers handled the destruction. The women and children of the village would be the first witnesses to a power this continent had never seen before. The era of the elves had begun.

A few meters from the village, I stopped and analyzed the site. It was a cluster of humble huts, with thatched roofs and worn wooden fences. A river wound along the edge of the village, and small plumes of smoke rose from the chimneys. It was a poor, forgotten place, and at that moment, vulnerable. The men had left with the search party, leaving only women, children, and the elderly at the mercy of my army.

I raised my hand, and all the elves prepared themselves. The metallic sound of weapons being adjusted echoed around me. I looked at Lucas, who awaited my order, and with a slight nod, I spoke:

"Kill them all. Show no mercy."

Lucas was the first to move forward, followed by the other soldiers. They didn't run. They marched calmly, with the confidence of predators who already knew the outcome of the hunt. But then, one of the soldiers raised his spear and let out a war cry that echoed through the forest, reaching the village like thunder. The elves shouted in unison, and the village descended into chaos.

The villagers, caught off guard, emerged from their huts to see what was happening. A woman holding a child was the first to see them. Her eyes widened at the sight of the pointy-eared figures, clad in gleaming armor, their weapons shining in the daylight.

"Who... who are they?!" she screamed, but her question was cut short as an arrow pierced her chest. The child fell from her arms, crying desperately, as the woman collapsed to the ground, blood staining the dry earth.

Chaos spread quickly. Women ran back to their huts, clutching their children, trying to hide. Some called out for the men of the village, but there was no one to save them.

A group of children ran toward the river, trying to escape, but two archers, hidden among the trees, fired precise arrows. A blonde-haired girl stumbled and fell, screaming for her brothers as an arrow embedded itself in her back. The once-clear river began to run red.

Inside one hut, an elderly woman tried to protect two grandchildren. She barred the door with an improvised latch, her hands trembling as the children cried. But the sound of firm footsteps on the porch signaled that it was too late. The door was kicked in with a single blow, and two soldiers entered. One of them, without a word, stepped forward and drove his spear into the woman's chest. She fell, knocking over a shelf, while the grandchildren screamed.

"Please! No!" one of the boys cried, clutching his younger brother. But the other soldier smirked coldly before delivering a swift blow with his short sword, silencing the plea for help.

The massacre unfolded mercilessly, each death amplifying the terror. By the end, the village was reduced to ashes, its inhabitants silenced. The era of the elves had truly begun.