"The turning point of the story," the old man began, frowning slightly as if trying to pull a distant memory into focus, "if I recall correctly, started on a sunny morning. I wasn't close enough to witness everything firsthand, but even without seeing it, I could feel the shift in the air, the change in the elements."
The little grandson, intrigued, leaned in closer. "What kind of change, Grandpa?"
"Well," the old man explained, "most elves are made of concentrated magical energy. When enough elves gather, their magic creates a sort of resonance. With just two or three elves, the effect is small; so faint, it's like a gentle breeze. But when more gather, the power multiplies."
"How many more?" The grandson's tiredness had vanished, and he was wide awake, hanging on every word.
The old man sighed. He knew the boy would never fall asleep at this rate, but he had started the story, and now he had to see it through. "It wasn't a handful; it was close to hundreds of thousands of elves."
"Hundreds of thousands?!" the grandson gasped, his eyes wide in disbelief. "But Grandpa, we don't even have 20,000 elves left today."
"Keep your voice down," the old man shushed, glancing around to ensure no one else had been disturbed. "We don't want to wake anyone else, do we?"
The grandson quickly clasped his hands over his mouth, nodding eagerly. He was desperate to hear more.
"That," the old man continued softly, "is part of the reason there are so few of us left. That gathering marked the beginning of our decline."
---
Meanwhile, on the field, thousands upon thousands of elves stood, waiting for the order. No one knew exactly how many were there; perhaps tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands. But the sheer number of them had an undeniable impact, their combined magic altering the very climate. The dark clouds that had blanketed the night sky only hours earlier had vanished, replaced by a bright, clear day.
The elite elves stood at the ready. Some held gleaming daggers, others clutched bows and arrows, and above them, the sky was filled with tamed beasts, their wings blotting out the sun. The ground was buzzing with activity; elves sharpening blades, crafting arrows, mixing potions; each one preparing for what was to come.
Aegnor stood off to the side, his expression one of disinterest. He was waiting for the formalities to be over: some sort of ceremonial mobilization before they moved out. To him, it seemed unnecessary. Their true purpose was simple: lure out the old foxes hiding behind their veils of power.
With such a massive gathering of elves, there would be no way for anyone, no matter how cautious, to resist taking notice.
Looking over the sea of elves sprawled across the mountainside, Aegnor sighed inwardly. He wondered how many were there for the cause and how many were simply there to take advantage of the chaos; perhaps even traitors in their midst. He knew that only a fraction of those present were actually key to the plan. The others, those at the back, would serve as little more than a means of escape if things went wrong. But the 200,000 elves in front, those were the ones he had painstakingly gathered over the past year.
How ironic, he thought. Aside from him, the teacher, and those directly involved, no one knew the extent of the effort required to rally this many elves. And even fewer understood that to drain the life from an entire piece of land, it would take far more than just a handful of participants. The sheer scale of it was one of the reasons there were so few detailed records of this kind of gathering; it would take years just to document each individual elf.
Behind the main group, the radicals loomed. They were the ones who despised humans, who had severed ties with any allies and pushed the teacher's carefully crafted plan into action far earlier than intended, five years ahead of schedule, no less. That kind of recklessness made Aegnor marvel at their audacity. If the teacher hadn't been in a rare mood to humor them, they might have been torn to pieces for their impatience.
"Are they coming?" Aegnor asked, sensing the approach of others. He lifted his gaze as a group of elderly elves slowly made their way toward him. The target was closing in, and with that, it was time to put on the act.
His body language shifted, a mask of calm confidence settling over his face. The performance was about to begin.
"The speech is over; let's get started," Aegnor declared, his voice steady and confident.
"Okay," came the quick reply. Aegnor stood up, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. He didn't waste time on small talk; nonsense wasn't his style. He was genuinely pleased; finally, he wouldn't have to see those faces again. The thought alone lifted his spirits.
As he was about to leave, he remembered the firework he had set aside for later.
---
Oliver watched the two figures depart, contemplating his own exit when a commotion from the city caught his attention. A wave of soldiers and adventurers poured out of the city gates, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, riding robust horses. They moved in a dense, black mass, and something significant was being carried at the center.
"Two hundred thousand?" Oliver muttered, eyes widening. He hadn't expected such a shabby city to hide that many people. It was astonishing. What he didn't realize was that many of these soldiers had only just arrived.
As they marched toward his position, he quickly ducked into the nearby bushes, instinctively concealing himself. The thunderous sound of iron hooves kicking up dust filled the air, a cacophony that made him wince.
Once the soldiers had passed, Oliver stood up cautiously. This time, he noticed their gear was markedly different. Gone were the worn leather pieces; they now sported well-crafted armor typical of seasoned warriors, their weapons forged from high-quality ore. These troops were outfitted well enough to rival any regular border force. Were they planning to attack the elves?
He sprinted ahead, releasing a bird to scout the area and ensure he wouldn't lose track of the unfolding events. Had the operation begun? It had only been two days since Aegnor had assigned his watchful guardians. Why the sudden movement?
A sinking realization hit him: the quality of their equipment had drastically improved. Why were they leaving the city right after Aegnor had ordered his men to monitor him? Could there be a connection?
But then the truth became clear, and with it, the enormity of the situation; hundreds of thousands of elves were on the move, led by a few key figures.
---
"Grandpa, what happens next?" The grandson's eyes sparkled with excitement, sleep nowhere on his mind.
"What's the rush?" the old man replied, casting a sideways glance. "What follows is a pivotal event that would shape the future of the elves. There were hundreds of thousands on both sides, yet what transpired couldn't even be labeled a conflict."
"Why not?" the boy pressed, his curiosity unyielding.
"Because I told you to be patient!" Grandpa replied with a chuckle, waving a hand dismissively.
---
Aegnor led the elves to an open area, the forest thickening around them but still allowing a clear view of the human city in the distance.
"Let everyone rest for a moment, then we'll charge forward all at once," he instructed.
"Understood," an elf beside him replied, dashing off to relay the orders.
Despite some grumbling among the elves, they fell into line, awaiting his command. The elder elves who walked alongside Aegnor remained silent, their expressions inscrutable. Whether it was a deep-seated dislike for humans or something else entirely, he didn't dwell on it.
As he gazed toward the sky, he thought to himself, 'The fireworks should be visible soon.'
Just then, Plamon approached, his face twisted with irritation. "Hey, can you explain what's happening right now?"
"How long did it take you to get here?" Aegnor asked, tilting his head to gauge Plamon's expression.
Plamon looked at him, momentarily perplexed, but then replied, "About half an hour."
"Did you sense anything unusual around you?"
Plamon frowned. "No... not really."
"Good," Aegnor nodded, relieved. If Plamon hadn't noticed anything, that meant they were still undetected.
Without waiting for more questions, Aegnor turned his attention back to the firework, preparing to light it. The time for action was drawing near.