Chapter 77: The Dawn of Battle

The sun had barely begun its ascent when the forces gathered outside the walls of Velarys. A tense silence fell over the camp, broken only by the occasional clank of armor or whispered orders as soldiers, mages, and scouts took their positions. Elara stood at the heart of the encampment, surrounded by her closest allies, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the enemy awaited.

This was the moment they had been preparing for. The final confrontation with the Ancients.

"Scouts report movement along the western ridge," Marcus said as he approached, his face grim. "It looks like the Ancients are mobilizing."

Elara nodded, her hands tightening around the hilt of her sword. "Then it begins."

Garrick, standing beside her, glanced at the sky, the first light of dawn casting a golden hue over the battlefield. "The decoy force is in position. I'll lead them into the valley and draw the Ancients' forces out. Once they're divided, you'll have the opening you need."

Elara's gaze flickered to him, worry etched on her face. "Just be careful. We can't afford to lose you."

He gave her a reassuring smile, his usual confidence shining through. "I'll be fine. I've got a knack for survival, remember?"

Marcus interrupted, his tone serious. "The main force is ready to move as soon as Garrick draws them out. We'll have the advantage of terrain, but we'll need to strike fast."

Elara took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Then let's not waste any more time."

Garrick gave a final nod before turning and heading toward the front lines where his decoy force waited. Elara watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of what was to come. She had faith in him, but the danger was undeniable.

Turning to Marcus, she asked, "Are the mages prepared?"

Marcus nodded. "We've stationed them along the ridge. They'll rain fire on the enemy once they're caught in the pass. It should be enough to give us the upper hand."

"Good." Elara looked around, taking in the sight of their assembled forces—men and women from every corner of the kingdom, united in their fight against the Ancients. "This is it," she whispered to herself.

As the sun broke over the horizon, Garrick's decoy force moved into action. Elara watched from her vantage point as they marched toward the valley, a small but formidable group. They moved quickly, disappearing into the distance as they approached the narrow pass where the Ancients' forces waited.

Minutes passed, each one dragging on with agonizing slowness. Then, the ground began to tremble—a rumble in the distance as the Ancients' army stirred.

"They're taking the bait," Marcus said, his voice tight with anticipation. "It's working."

Elara's heart raced as the first of the Ancients' soldiers appeared, marching toward the decoy force with brutal precision. They were clad in dark, ancient armor, their faces obscured by helmets that gave them an almost otherworldly appearance. And they kept coming—thousands upon thousands of them.

"It's more than we expected," Marcus muttered, his brow furrowed. "This won't be easy."

Elara nodded, her eyes narrowing. "No turning back now."

From her position on the ridge, she could see the entire battlefield unfolding. Garrick's force engaged the Ancients, drawing them further into the valley. It was a controlled retreat, designed to lure the enemy deeper into the pass. And it was working—the Ancients were pursuing aggressively, their numbers pressing forward as they sought to crush Garrick's forces.

But Elara knew this was only the beginning.

"Signal the mages," she ordered. "It's time."

At her command, the sky above the valley darkened as the mages unleashed their magic. Fireballs streaked through the air, slamming into the advancing army of the Ancients. Explosions rocked the battlefield, and the screams of soldiers filled the air as the first wave of the Ancients' forces was decimated.

But still, they pressed forward.

"They're relentless," Marcus said, watching the enemy surge through the flames. "We need to hit them harder."

Elara nodded, her mind racing. "Send in the second wave. We'll crush them from both sides."

Marcus relayed the order, and soon, their main force began its advance. From both sides of the pass, Elara's forces charged toward the enemy, swords and spears glinting in the sunlight. The clash of steel echoed across the battlefield as the two armies met in a brutal collision.

Elara led from the front, her sword cutting through the enemy ranks with precision and power. She could feel the fire of the artifact within her, its energy flowing through her veins as she fought. Each swing of her blade was imbued with the strength of the elements, and the Ancients fell before her like leaves in the wind.

But the Ancients were not without their own power. Their soldiers fought with a terrifying efficiency, and for every one that fell, another seemed to rise in its place. Their commanders, ancient beings of immense strength, moved through the battlefield like shadows, their dark magic corrupting the very ground they walked on.

"Elara!" Marcus shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We need to fall back. We can't hold this position much longer."

Elara's eyes scanned the battlefield. Garrick's decoy force had done its job, but now they were dangerously outnumbered. The main force was holding its ground, but the Ancients' sheer numbers were beginning to overwhelm them.

"We need to regroup," she agreed, her mind racing. "We can't afford to lose any more ground."

As she gave the order to retreat, Elara's heart sank. This battle was far from over, and the cost had already been high.

But they would not give up. Not yet.

The road ahead was uncertain, but Elara knew one thing for sure: they would fight until the end.

And the Ancients would not win easily.