"Run."
At the mention of the word, Sauldor immediately took flight and dashed towards the passageway. Those three words were the last thing he had expected to come out of the prince's mouth, after he so confidently barged in.
"Curse you, you crazy prince!" he spatted, his heart beat so loudly that it filled his ears.
"I will remember you said that."
When he glanced behind him, he saw that the prince had stood his ground. Instead of fleeing, he had summoned a ball of flame on his hand and had unsheathed his sword again.
To Sauldor, nothing short of madness, the prince entered the throne room and advanced towards the guards. Much so in the light of the fact that the scourges did not charge at the sight of them, but instead defensively stationed themselves.
He was not brave enough, or foolish enough, to follow the prince. However, he could not also leave him behind. Stuck between his cowardice and his worry for the prince, he ended up standing still, watching everything unfold.
"Elf, you pride in yourself too much." to Sauldor's great fright, the goblin king spoke. "Join your fellow, and I shall not give chase."
"You are making your fear obvious, little goblin." the prince taunted, not in a bit fazed.
"You fool!" the goblin king roared, "Slay this arrogant elvish turd, we shall decorate his head to these halls!"
The scourges command echoed throughout the cavern and was instantly heeded. With their shields raised, and their spears jutting out, the scourges ran to meet him. A rare sight, as scourges normally charge without formation or tactics.
"This beautiful elvish flames are wasted on an ugly lot like you."
Meldor's flames bore on the shields, and both the metalwork and the bearers could not endure it. The formation broke as the fiery attack tore a gap in the center.
Swiftly taking advantage of the damage, the elven prince lunged himself at the punctured shield wall. Unable to catch up with his swiftness and dexterity, goblin heads started flying. An excellent sword, wielded by an excellent swordsman utilizing excellent swordsmanship, was no match for the scourges who could barely think.
He slaughtered his way to the center, the severed corpses made way. Even when he was assailed on every side, the scourges failed to touch him. He carved out a circle everywhere he delved into, with everyone who comes near enough cut down.
The goblins displayed bravery above expectations, in every goblin slain, another was quick to charge in. However, it only made Meldor's job easier, and the battle was more of a massacre than a fight.
Soon he made his last wing to finish the small fries, and what remained were the more formidable hobgoblins. While the prince had served them for last, the greater scourges had been trying to hit him the moment he entered into the fray. But their size would make them slow, and their attempts ended in casualties on their side.
Meldor ended up at the foot of the throne, not intentionally, but that the battle led him there.
"Kill him! Don't let him near!" the goblin king screamed to his retainers, trying to move himself deeper into his seat. But he had already occupied every inch, and his weight had long rendered him unable from leaving his throne.
"Worry not, I will not come for you. Not yet." Meldor muttered, finding pleasure in the fear he had invoked.
The slow-moving hobgoblins inched closer, but Meldor could no longer wait. Dragging his sword on the ground, he walked towards to meet them.
A smirk played on his lips, and not a sign of fear, not even caution was seen in his approach. He exuded an intimidating aura, that made even the scourges who were not intelligent enough to know fear, cower.
He saw fear in the eyes of the first of the hobgoblins to reach him. And it was out of fear, that the scourge made a downward and forceful smash. Devoid of any technique, Meldor easily evaded the strike by effortlessly stepping sideward.
When the mace was yet buried in the ground, he climbed upwards to the scourge's arm, using the shaft of the weapon as a platform. The hobgoblin's pupils darted at his approach, but he would fail to command his body to react swiftly. When Meldor was at the shoulder, he lifted his sword and when it fell, it smoothly severed the scourge's head.
Before the body fully dropped to the ground, Meldor jumped down. When he raised his head, he saw ten more, enraged and all rearing to fight him, and had surprisingly quickened their pace.
This time he waited for them to come near.
"Hurry, I do not have all day." he leaned on his sword in his brief repose. "And please be more of a challenge, your southern cousins provided better entertainment."
The second hobgoblin came within range. The moment the club landed in yet another failed swing, the prince charged directly forward, until he was before the scourge's belly. From above his head, and the sword inverted, Meldor impaled the hobgoblin's upper abdomen, and then teared downwards. The scourge squealed in pain, as his insides poured out of the incision, to which Meldor swiftly distanced himself.
The scourge was made to kneel and was doomed to slowly die by blood loss, as the prince turned his attention to the rest of the rubble.
To his disappointment, their southern cousins were indeed better. They attack without any semblance of skill or even experience. They follow their instincts and their emotions, and nothing more. And so, the rest of the hobgoblins, were not in any way harder to slay than the first two. They smash or swing their maces, then become vulnerable for a while, which gave more than enough time for Meldor. There were no coordination, and even if they tried, their clumsy behavior would prove it impossible.
The hobgoblin looked at him wide-eyed, fear and shock, displayed in his expression. With both of his feet decapitated, the giant was brought down, and as he knelt, Meldor plunged the sword in his chest. When he pulled it out, the scourge's life went out with it.
He wiped the blood off his blade using the corpse, and turned his eyes to the goblin king.
"You sit on that throne, with a crown on your head. I am envious, even a lowly scourge such as yourself has a kingdom" he remarked, the silence carried his words clearly to the ears of the king.
"You can have all my treasures elf! I have no need of them, take them and leave!" the goblin king pleaded, and as he spoke threw away his crown towards the pile of silver.
"You are not a good king are you, if the kingdom falls, the king falls with it." said Meldor. Only when had uttered the words, did he realize it was a kick against the pricks.
"What shall it profit you, if you kill me? I can no longer harm you, I will only filthy your blade." the scourge reasoned.
"Your heart it crystallizes upon death, and it fetches for quite a silver." he responded.
Unwilling to waste any more time, the prince dashed forward. Past the short set of stairs, and up on the platform, he jumped up to the scourge's body on the back of the momentum he had built.
He landed on his lap, and the goblin king tried to grab him with his hands, both quickly severed the moment they were within reach of Meldor's blade. And defenseless, he could only watch Meldor slowly climb his body.
"Have mercy, lord elf. You barged into my home, and it is only fitting that I defended it. If you want my treasure, it is now yours, but spare me my life." the scourge made his final plea and tears flowed from his eyes.
The words should've not affected him, it was after all from a lowly scourge. But as he stood ready to thrust his sword into his chest, he realized how the goblin king's circumstance resembled another king's. And on the horrid face that was before him, he saw someone familiar.
The scourge was pleased by his sudden change of expression. Thinking he was pitied upon, he spoke again.
"Please spare me, lord elf. Just leave me alone, leave me to the rats, spare your sword from more goblin blood." he exclaimed.
Meldor laughed and shook his head. "How silly of me."
"You are not the same. My father was no coward, and he fought his own battles. And even at the very end, he stood his ground."
The puzzled goblin king was given no explanation, and when he thought he was saved, Meldor's blade suddenly pierced his chest. He opened his mouth, but only blood came out. The shock on his face remained, even when he had at last, drawn his final breath.
Meldor expected silence to follow the death of the king. However, he felt another tremor, and from behind him.
"Sauldor."