The Great

The cries of men added with the sounds of metallic swords clashing into contact with such force rang the ears of all those there to witness. Blood was spilled across the battlefield as if great river had formed, littered with the lifeless bodies of the armored men.

This was to be one of the biggest wars in all of history, yet almost all accurate records were to be kept away in favor of the Victor's interpretation.

"Stilitcho, look before you," his imperial majesty Ragoon Von Heristenburg said, as the man that he once considered a brother stood there without any emotion, staring at the gore riddled pictured.

His name was Stilicho the great, the emperor of all humans, and perhaps the last one. Earlier in his years, he had conquered Talia from the giants up north, and the prosperous and resource riddled region of Hera, what elfs namded Heristenburg. To the desert south, several Thorshi states were also conquered due to trading humans. For the first time, all of humanity was united under one man, one force, and one empire.

Throughout his career, he tried his best to not overstep over his humanity, for that was what differentiate humans from all of these barbarians. He only conquered what he deemed as rightful human lands, and freed millions of human slaves. He's name was spoken throughout the continent as a Saint of sorts, for generations to come. By the time he reached the measly age of 30, "The Great" would be added to his name.

"Perhaps you are right Ragie," He said, addressing the imperial ruler of all elfs by his simple childhood nickname master Sachi gave. "I will ask you why, why you have created such a hateful division our people? What happened to our pact, our brotherhood."

There was an uncomfortable silence that went by as Ragie attempted his best of coming up with a good answer, one that would mask his betrayl against his friend.

But as a chillingly cold whisp of air ascended, he realized something, he could kill this man that stood before him.

"You are thinking about killing me, isn't that right," he said, as he slowly turned his head towards Ragie. "We might have once been brothers, but know one thing Elf, you will never subgate humanity, for our morale driven fighting spirit is a concept almost all humans are born with, regardless of class and appearance. That is what separates us from you."

There was no point in continuing this war. The Elfs don't fight with honor, that was clear when they burnt down Dashia before the war even was declared. Even then with the great bread basket of the empire falling victim to the barbarians, the humans here fought with honor for their race, coming from all places the empire held. They were a force of two hundred and fifty thousand, fighting against a combined Elf, Giant, and Thorshi force of a million. Only a quarter of the combined force would see the light of day.

He moved toward the battlefield, and activated all ten gates he held.

"I will not die a ruler," He muttered to himself, as he in an instant wiped out dozens of towering giants. "For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds."