This is a felonious mistake. And to think the entire point of this campaign is to make the entire world heel once again to the Asterisk, a curtain that once touched all corners of the world, it will again, all eight rays of the Asterisk. Botan can only curse under his breath, where are their Ducian vassals? Is the Iron Legion stationed there not enough to buy their compliance?
'Or is the Iron Legion… Disposed of..?' Botan inhales sharply. 'Whatever happened to the Iron Legion doesn't have anything to do with me. I can defeat even unruly Ducians, I am the strongest! Well, we can just take reinforcements from Goryo.'
"Crush them, regroup and attack!" Botan shouts into the void. Expecting at least three elves to come to him, he is surprised to see Pierre and Sakurako only. 'Great, a little girl and Lord Fourth, I guess I can attack with Lord Fourth.' "Sakurako, stay here. I don't need little girls to fight with me. Go back and tell your partner to call on reinforcements in Goryo."
Pierre and Botan flash towards Margaux, exchanging a dozen moves with her. Margaux could be aptly described as an Angel rather than a Harpy, if it wasn't for her talons, and since she also wields a sword like most Elves, it's like fighting someone who not only can fly but can use three swords. She can also grab you with her feet and hand while the other hand is hacking you to pieces.
Botan and Pierre are flying with their staves like witches would with their brooms, leaving only one hand to fight her. Really, they're at a massive disadvantage. And if it isn't a fossil of the Flying age?
"I'm getting tired. It's time to end this fight."
…
Sakurako is running, trying to save her strength as she heads to the rear. Goryo is a few hundred kilometres away and at her speed it will take seventeen minutes to travel the 400 kilometre distance.
The terrain quickly changes, the wooden ground is replaced with sand, then rocks and earth when a sudden burst of water shoots out of the ground, creating a wall between her and the battlefield. Sakurako stumbles backward, surprised by the sudden turn of events. She looks around, trying to figure out where the water came from.
She immediately moves her head to the side just as a water spear flies through where her head was moments ago. She hadn't even seen her opponent approach. Turning quickly, she spots a figure emerging from the mist created by the water wall. It's Vasil, the water elf from the enemy's ranks.
Without any words, Vasil lunges at her with his arm swinging in an arc, making her block the strike with her armguards, the black crosshair rotating in her amber eyes quickly locking in as he rotates his hips, striking her again with his leg.
She quickly jumps up and spits a ball of syrup straight at his face at the same time. Isn't war fun? The hot ball of syrup is blocked by a vomit of water, making them swim in the water for a moment, separating them.
While Sakurako's getting harassed on the rear, the other elves in the back line are slowly being pushed back to their initial lines in Goryo, like individual army units they attempt to link together. And once they did they executed a fighting retreat, minimising mana expense as they do.
As the back rank continues to fall back, Botan and Pierre find themselves isolated and over extended. As the sun falls, illuminating the Wooden Platform with its hazy orange light, the Asterisk army without further reinforcement is slowly beaten back to the main continent, retreating completely. Their aerial superiority useless against the terrain changing capabilities of the majority Water Elf composition of the Alrodene Army.
"We need to retreat, our supply lines can no longer handle any further fighting in this front," Pierre sighs, turning his staff around, zooming to the back line.Under the watchful gaze of the opposing army, Botan slowly backs away and retreats. In the back line Sakurako and Vasil stop and stare at each other, both sensing their respective monarchs ordering them to stand down. It looks like the confrontation of the two battalions is coming to a close.
The closing is anticlimactic, but a frontal confrontation is the most you can ask for when it comes to two groups of Elves, if given a chance these two groups would never meet face to face, because the second phase of Elven Warfare is starting shortly, and outside of frontline fighting, this phase is the most destructive part of it all.
As the elves retreat to their respective rears, and their villages hide themselves once again, the Elven campaign season comes to a close. Elven lives are clearly so precious, they can fight by the time they're five, and are excellent mana batteries, and with enough combat strength, can completely change the terrain of battlefields.
When it comes to power, the only way for elves is up. And this time, is the time for humans to do the fighting.
…
A woman is sitting on a mouldy and wet wooden stool as the sky cries out with the pitter patter of rain falling on her hair, making it swampy and damp. She looks like she tapping air, but the soldiers wearing leather are just minding their own destinations, shuffling around her, not making any eye contact.
After a few more minutes of sitting there, she stands up and does some stretches, "I can't believe my quests were mostly grunt work, repetitive and boring, but it's finally moving forward." she stares at her event calendar, the time ticking down in the seconds.
As she stands up she immediately ducks to avoid a ball of fire hurtling towards head level, and as she pops her head back up the gaping trench, the dead man's land clears her smoke only to be bombarded again.