Disgraced Elven General (11)

"Ponka, watch the left flank! Granya, take the shield bearers and reinforce the center! Archers, focus on their command squad! Their aura isn't strong enough to block all of the arrows!"

My voice echoed around the blood stained battlefield, and I grinned under my skull mask as I gestured with my blades, the euphoria of being back in command of an army filling my very soul.

Dura stood beside me, watching in interest as I directed the Horde efficiently against our first major opponent; the City of Alfine, home to the best archers inside the Verdant Forest.

They were sharpshooters that could send an arrow flying hundreds upon hundreds of feet and accurately snipe the smallest of foes with a deadly blow, so they were a tough nut to crack...

When they had been in their glory days, that is.

I sneered in derision as an arrow sailed harmlessly past my face, the archer who fired it trembling as they watched me look towards them.

Raising the black blades I had been gifted, I coated their edges in my aura and sliced them outwards, sending two emerald green arcs flying through the sky at incredible speeds, which collided with the young Elf who wasn't fit to call themselves an Alfine Ranger.

Her torso was split into quarters as the two arcs cut her apart, and she died without a sound, her corpse flopping to the ground wetly as her blood sprayed everywhere.

My troops moved seamlessly under my command, the Orcs and other races working in tandem as they had grown accustomed to fighting under my orders, and the slaughter of Alfine began.

With our troops armed with fine Dwarven steel and under the directions of a rather good commander, we cut through the Alfine army swiftly, soaking the earth and roots with Elven blood as we marched into the city, occupying it for ourselves.

Dura and I marched in side by side, the Orc War Chief and her War Maiden observing the hundreds of dead as the Orcs massacred the city, sparing only those that surrendered or weren't even fighters in the first place.

We moved into the glorious wooden longhouse that the Alfine Nobles called home up in the trees of the Verdant Forest, capturing the various old Elves and securing our very first true beachhead into the Verdant Forest.

From here on out, we were capable of pushing hard into the Elven lands, and unless they made a move to recapture Alfine, we were guaranteed a position to begin conquering the surrounding lands.

This wasn't our first victory working together, but it was the first major one, and it went almost seamlessly.

My inhibitions to kill my kindred fell away after I witnessed their ineptitude and arrogance, believing that their Elven blood made them superior to the Orcs that battered at their gates, going so far as to utilize the confusion of war to begin filling their own pockets.

Our spies that snuck into the city reported that the young Elf soldiers were exploiting and stealing from their own people, and the spies even claimed that a few of the Elves were taking advantage of the civilians sexually as well, groups of soldiers pinning down the helpless or homeless and ravaging them.

My disgust swelled, and I could still recall the mixture of smugness and disgust in Dura's features as she looked at me; smug that she proved her point, but disgusted that it was proven at all.

My kindred... were no better than the Orcs I had once believed to be monsters, and with that, the last of my pity and inhibitions melted away.

I took up my new blades and cut through the squads of Elves that we faced, tempering my black steel in blood as I joined the vanguard for our first sortie with the Elves, before falling back to command more efficiently when we laid siege to the city.

Now, with the city of Alfine under our control, we began our conquest in earnest.

Dura wanted to drive a spear straight to the heart of the Verdant Forest, ordering us to march directly to Lyna Easria in a display of strength and dominance, and I steeled my heart as we did just that.

We continued through the expansive forest, conquering the cities that laid between us and Lyna Easria with ease, all while Dura continued to hone my skills as we sparred after our battles, wearing me down and building me back up.

The War Chief reined in her lust easily over these long weeks, never once slipping as she focused her energies instead on war, and I tried my hardest to do the same.

However, that proved to be a difficult feat, especially with the pleasure of warfare and commanding returning to me; I craved the pleasure of the flesh even more these days, but I tried to stamp it down...

Running a whetstone over the black blades curved edges, I hummed quietly to myself as I sat beside the fire, left alone from the troops as they all sang and drank from the pilfered wine barrels inside the city we had captured.

Though, Dura refrained form alcohol too, as she sat down opposite me and sighed, leaning her axe against the houses wall before looking towards me.

"So? How're you doing, Gwyneth? Managing alright with the deaths of your kin?"

I raised a brow, stopping the grinding of my blade as I stared at her in silence.

"What? It's a good question considering your previous... patriotism towards your homeland."

"I may have been born on this land, but I don't recognize it anymore. The people have changed far more than should be possible in mere months. Arrogance, naivety and laziness permeate the very air inside the forest now. Sure, us Elves were always proud, but we earned that pride through our strength and through our wits! This city? It used to be a mecca for budding sword dancers and staff martialists! Now the damn Elves inhabiting this place can barely swing the sword, let alone dance with it!

No, my homeland is gone, dead. Kilkreatha killed it herself when she took it over from the Queen. The people allowed it to bleed out slowly as they watched fabled Generals, Sages, Nobles and Soldiers be driven out for daring to believe differently! To recognize the faults inside our cities and try to remedy them! Now, it is little more than a young, naive forest that needs to be burnt to the ground so that something new may rise from the ashes..."

Dura raised her hands, chuckling at me as she said "Whoa now Gwyneth! Don't go burning the forest down! I still need those Aura Fruits to strengthen the Horde!"

I rolled my eyes at the Orc at that, before returning to my blades, asking "Why're you here, Dura? I can assure you that I've made my peace with my actions, and that I have no regrets with what I've decided to do."

She smirked, nodding as she leaned back against the wall, staring into the canopy above.

"To discuss your plans for after, Gwyneth. What do you plan to do after Kilkreatha is dealt with? When the Judges are dealt with? What then? Where are you going to go?"

My hand paused once more as I pursed my lips, before I continued on with the whetstone, the sound of grinding metal filling the air.

"Nowhere. I know what I am; a General, a soldier. Fighter. Killer. Where would I go? Back to a Dwarven City to live as a Gladiator? To the Human Empire as some Nobles personal guard? No, I don't think I want to uproot myself again, Dura. I've done it two times too many already, and I'm... I'm tired. I want to stick with the Horde and continue being the War Maiden. To have that path in life decided for me already."

The crackling of the flames and sound of me sharpening my sword was all that I heard, and I looked up at Dura in curiosity, wondering what she was thinking.

The muscular mountain of an Orc frowned, before nodding as she retrieved her axe and stood up.

"Get some rest, Gwyneth. We'll see if you've the grit to remain my War Maiden yet... your real trial lies ahead."

I sensed something odd in her voice as she walked away, but I couldn't pinpoint it, causing me to frown as I stared at the back of the War Chief.