Edok shot bullets of air magic as he wades his way through the waves of undead elves. Across him were Jack and Captain Creft, each fighting their own battle of the undead.
Flashes of light were extending from Edok's left side to where the high-elves were flanked.
The humans' approach eases the high-elves, giving them enough time to assemble formation. High-elves in front with their kite shields blocking the undead, while blades slashed nothing but air. Wood-elves behind them, conjuring spells that aided the high-elves' formation: roots sprouting on the ground, pinning the undead.
Yet, they were not killing them.
It may seem stupid to Edok and the rest of the humans, but not to the elves. It was their race, their kin. Edok now understood the reason why Prince Aesril commanded them to save the elves. The prince knew that they would never kill their fellows.
