Chapter 342

Prince Vitar's Point of View

Capital of Vithari - Dwardew

The gates were blown wide open, and the Druids stationed above it to reinforce it were unconscious. I was unsure whether it was from the impact or the breaking of their magic. However, one thing was certain. Our runes wouldn't last against such an onslaught, the Druids were exhausted, and there was a giant hole in our defenses.

"To the gate!" I bellowed.

The sound of rushing could be heard as Dwar, and I made our way down the debris as fast as possible. That meant jumping from one ledge to another. I admit, I fell more than once, and the General stopped me from falling down entirely. Once on the ground, we raced to the gate where our men were stationed. Watching the invaders as they came in slowly.

Moving to the front, we took our positions in front of our men and watched the cloaked assailants study us. They continued to press forward slowly and carefully. Those in front weren't the issue, but their flyers started to take to the air. Magic casters were stationed behind their front lines and had spells at the ready. Thousands of them were just waiting to pour in. Maybe their wariness of traps stopped them from doing so.

"Hold them here!" I bellowed and thrust my arms into the sky with my hammer. "Today is a glorious day for Dwardew!"

My cry was the breaking point for the invaders as they promptly rushed forward. I readied myself but imagine my surprise when all of them came to a halt. Our foes towered over us. It was just a fact of life that our stature wasn't the largest compared to others. But to be entirely ignored and overlooked despite having a Dwarven army right in front of you would still be a foolish mistake in my eyes.

Yet, here I was. Completely ignored as they seemed to ignore us as they gazed over my head. One part of me assumed it was a trick or ploy. Another part realized that they wouldn't have been able to coordinate it so perfectly. Then, pressure started to press on my back. A horrible, chilling, suffocating pressure.

Slowly, I turned to see what had frozen the enemy so. Behind me and my men was a figure just out of the light of the broken gate. It stood in the shadow cast from the debris, but what really drew my attention were the eyes. Eyes, unlike anything I have ever seen, glowed in the dark as power flowed from them with sparks of lightning shooting out. Waves of magic seemed to be rolling off his body.

The man stepped into the light, where it revealed an emotionless face with wide, unblinking eyes. My army made a path for him as he walked forward with his eyes continuing to stare eerily. Armor adorned his body with a large sword on his back that seemed magical in nature given its unnatural color. When he got to me, he ignored me and moved past me.

"I'll give you this one chance," He began in a low tone. "Leave, and I'll let you live."

"Kill him!" Someone from the enemy's ranks shouted.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the invaders stepped forward shakily, only for them to be turned into a bloody mist. Their bodies completely disappeared as the ground became wet with their blood. A red mist covered my face, and I flinched from the suddenness of it. The flyers tried to get away, but we watched as they twisted and turned while they screamed out in horrible pain. Blood oozed from the tears in the overly tightened skin before being dropped unceremoniously on the ground.

After blinking a few times, I realized that the hundreds, if not thousands, that were lined up to invade the city were no longer there. Almost as if they had never been there in the first place. There would've been almost no indicator if it wasn't for the collection of blood at our feet. The stranger walked forward, unhooked his sword, and planted it firmly in the ground where the hole in the gate was.

The ground rose up and clogged up the hole in the defenses. Afterward, his sword gave off a pulse that coated our walls. Our runes shone far brighter than I had ever seen before fading again. Even the Druid's magic seemed to shimmer across the underground city's surroundings. Once he was done, he plucked his sword out of the ground and returned it to his back.

A scoff escaped his lips. "Fuckin Demons."

He then turned back to us, and my eyes widened as his gaze fell onto me. It shames me to say that I froze. His eyes studied me and my people. Almost like he was weighing our worth. After a moment, the stranger started to walk toward us. My breathing quickened as I was unsure how to respond to such a show of power. However, it hurt more when he simply walked by me again with little to no regard.