บท 17: Moon Elves (3)
"First Princess, you have a mere ten minutes," Ostred declared, his deep voice resonating throughout the tent.
His menacing gaze swept over the two guards, and the atmosphere grew heavy with his imposing presence. "Begone!"
"At once, Demon General Ostred!" The guards snapped to attention, offering a crisp salute before hastily departing from the tent.
Ostred's smile was unnerving as it played upon his lips, and with a final, lingering glance, he too withdrew, affording the sisters a moment of privacy for their clandestine conversation.
Shalanta's eyes shimmered with concern, but upon seeing her sister's gloomy and lifeless gaze, her heart clenched in anguish.
"What have they done to you, Sister!" she cried out, her anger surging and her eyes blazing with wrath.
Filauria managed a faint smile and tenderly grasped Shalanta's hand. In that instant, Shalanta felt a surge of mana transferring between them, and Filauria's voice echoed in her mind through telepathy, 'We are being watched.'
Filauria patted Shalanta's head gently, her touch as soothing as a mother's warm embrace. "I'm just fine, sister. You don't need to worry about me," she reassured her, while simultaneously conveying through telepathy, 'I promise I'll get you out of here.'
Shalanta's grip on her sister tightened involuntarily. "We will -" she began, but Filauria cut her off with a firm pat on the head. "Are the demons treating you well here?" she asked, her eyes brimming with concern.
"They're disgusting pigs, nothing more than pieces of shit," Shalanta spat, her eyes shrouded in darkness and her tone vicious with wrath.
Filauria bit her lower lip subconsciously. "Everything will be fine," she said, offering a faint smile. With affection, she pinched Shalanta's cheek and whispered through telepathy, 'Be prepared for tomorrow.'
After several minutes of conversation, Shalanta felt a surge of heavy mana transferring into her body from Filauria.
"Time's up, princess," Ostred announced, arching an eyebrow as he observed the sporadic mana fluctuations within the tent.
Dismissing their actions as futile, he knew they were heavily chained, especially at night, and that their powerhouses had all perished, leaving morale low.
"Let's return to your cage now, princess." Filauria rose and followed the demon outside.
Numerous tents filled the area, with demons feasting on the raw meat of various creatures, engaging in raucous conversation, and casting lecherous glances at Filauria's tattered garments.
As they walked, Filauria discreetly surveyed the elves in the vicinity, offering a slight, nearly imperceptible nod and subtle eye movements. The elves responded in kind before returning to their tasks.
Filauria's gaze fell upon the male elves, some of whom were charred, their eyes gouged out, and limbs twisted – victims of dark experiments and twisted entertainment for the demons. She clenched her hand, fighting to maintain her composure.
As she contemplated her sister's situation, she murmured to herself, 'I apologize, dear sister. The forceful awakening is agonizing, but I have faith in your resilience.'
***
The Cage Tent of Second Princess
Shalanta's eyes grew heavy as she experienced her mana core becoming increasingly unstable, causing her discomfort and a sharp, piercing pain akin to being prodded with a needle. Her ears were inundated with whispers, prompting her to exclaim, "Shut up!"
The two guards exchanged puzzled glances as they observed Shalanta's outburst.
"Shut up!" Shalanta persisted, her voice strained. The two demons stared at one another, wondering if their princess had lost her sanity.
"I said shut up!" Shalanta's eyes blazed with fury as she glared at them.
"Should we report this to the General?" one guard inquired hesitantly.
"If you have a death wish, go ahead. The General is currently preoccupied, indulging in the company of numerous elven women," the other guard replied with a sardonic tone.
"I must admit, I'm envious. We're only ever allowed the leftovers," the first guard lamented.
***
Morning, Almost in Demon Realmn of Frogolion, Nawderian Plain
The demons marched in formation, some accompanying caravans while others escorted groups of elven women, who were enslaved and shackled by chains around their necks. The elves walked in huddled clusters as the demons flanked them on either side, ensuring they remained in line.
The demon sneered lasciviously, "We're nearly home. I've acquired a new slave, and I can hardly wait to indulge in her company all night."
The other demon sighed inwardly, lamenting, "I'm facing a predicament; I'll soon be without a job."
"You ought to consider joining the Raiders Team. It's a high-risk, high-reward venture," suggested another demon.
Meanwhile, the captive elves subtly exchanged glances with one another, carefully and imperceptibly positioning themselves closer to the weapons that the demons had secured on their bodies.
As the wind gradually subsided, the atmosphere grew thick with tension. The sky, once clear, now filled with ominous clouds, allowing only a glimpse of one of the moons through the azure expanse above.
"I have no desire to join that Raiders Team; I'd rather not hasten my own demise," the demon remarked sardonically.
The demon cast his gaze skyward, puzzled. "Why has it suddenly become so overcast?" He coughed, bringing his hand to his mouth, only to find it smeared with blood. "What in the world?"
"Hey, why are your eyes bleedi—" The demon's words were abruptly cut off as his head was severed from his body. A torrent of dark, crimson blood spewed from his neck, and his lifeless form crumpled to the ground.
The Elves shattered their shackles, their mana surging dramatically as arcane runes etched themselves upon their skin in an indecipherable language.
Their eyes, once clouded with despair, now blazed with the fierce fire of defiance. With a battle cry that reverberated through the foreboding skies, they charged headlong into the fray, their hearts pulsating with the fervor of a thousand suns.
The demons, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, scrambled to meet their attackers. The clash of steel rang out like thunder, and the air was filled with the screams of the wounded and the dying. The elves fought with a ferocity born of desperation, their every strike fueled by the desire to break free from the chains that bound them.
"The slaves have broken free!" the demoness bellowed, her eyes narrowing with determination.
"Eliminate all who dare to rebel!" roared one of the colossal demons, his hand clutching the head of a male elf. With a vicious squeeze, he crushed the skull as though it were a mere melon, sending fragments of bone and brain matter splattering in all directions.
The Nawderian Plain transformed into a vivid tableau of bloodshed and brutality. Demons disintegrated into dust under the radiant glow of potent magic. Amidst the chaos, a fierce male elf fought with the ferocity of a madman, confronting a colossal demon wielding a massive mace. As demonic creatures clawed and mauled the rebellious elves, the elves retaliated with their own powerful magic, severing their limbs with precision. Some were instantly torn to shreds, leaving a gruesome trail in the wake of this epic battle.
In the distance, a captivating woman exuded an aura of serenity, her skin adorned with intricate arcane markings. Beside her stood a colossal demon, its menacing horns protruding from its head, wielding a dark, ominous sword that radiated a suffocating presence.
"This is unexpected, but it's futile, Princess," Ostred declared, effortlessly parrying the terrifying, vicious strike of Filauria's translucent dagger. The air behind him erupted in a violent explosion, while the ground beneath his feet cracked and splintered.
"It doesn't matter. We would rather die than become mere playthings," she retorted, deftly ducking and lunging towards the demon with a force that threatened to overwhelm even the most formidable of foes.
"You may be attempting to buy time for your sister's escape, but it is all in vain. My men are already in pursuit," Ostred taunted, skillfully evading the incoming attack.
Suddenly, the sky darkened, and an oppressive aura weighed heavily upon the battlefield. The very fabric of space distorted, causing the ground to tremble. From this distortion, three formidable beings emerged.
Ostred's eyes widened in fear as he recognized one of them, whispering, "The Abyss Prince."
This striking demon boasted two mythical horns and six massive black wings, his black sclera and dark blue eyes exuding an aura of pure malevolence.
"Exterminate every last rebel and subdue the elven women," commanded the Abyss Prince, his voice resonating with authority as he materialized before Ostred. He addressed the other two beings present, who stood poised to carry out his orders.
"Ostred, I explicitly forbade you from laying a finger on my playthings. We shall discuss this matter later," the Abyss Prince declared, his regal tone laced with barely contained fury as his gaze fell upon Filauria.
Filauria instinctively assumed a defensive stance, but the overwhelming intensity of his stare proved too much for her to bear. She coughed up blood and crumpled to the ground, rendered unconscious by the sheer force of his presence.
The Abyss Prince, his anger simmering beneath a veneer of calm, demanded of Ostred, "Where is the other princess?"
Ostred, beads of sweat forming on his brow, replied deferentially, "Your Highness, my men are already in pur-"
"I asked for her location!" the Abyss Prince roared, his face contorted with rage.
Trembling, Ostred managed to stammer, "Northwest Forest," as he dropped to his knees. Blood welled in his eyes and trickled from the corners of his mouth, a testament to the immense pressure exerted by the Abyss Prince's wrath.
***
The four women, one of whom cradled Shalanta protectively in her arms, sprinted with a terrifying speed to elude the demonic entities.
Simultaneously, the three elven women declared, "We shall buy you some time!" With fierce determination, they engaged the demonic pursuers in a deadly dance of swordplay and unleashed powerful magical spells. The surrounding trees were instantly obliterated by the sheer force of their arcane abilities.
As the woman continued to run at terrifying speed, Shalanta's voice trembled with exhaustion, "Where is my sister?"
"Princess Filaura is holding them off to ensure our escape, Princess Shalanta," the woman replied, beads of sweat glistening on her brow as she continued to run swiftly.
Shalanta's eyes grew heavy with fatigue, and she murmured, "But we must go back for my sister, we-"
"Please, Princess, understand that we are merely buying time to ensure your-" Her words were abruptly cut off as her head was violently severed from her body. Shalanta's weakened form tumbled to the ground, a consequence of the recent, forceful awakening.
"Hello, my Princess," the Abyss Prince intoned eloquently, his voice resonating with a captivating charm. Suspended in midair, he descended gracefully, his movements as fluid as a feather drifting on a gentle breeze. As he approached the unconscious form of Shalanta.
Abruptly, the ethereal gray aura of Shalanta expanded and shimmered, giving rise to a mystical creature composed of the very mana itself.
A breathtaking dragonwulf emerged, its beauty reminiscent of a silvery moon, adorned with four captivating eyes. Its uncanny presence was palpable as it opened its maw, unleashing a formidable sphere of white magic aimed directly at the Abyss Prince.
*Boom!*
The surrounding forest was laid to waste, succumbing to the searing white flames that spread voraciously.
Beneath the mystical creature's feet, a new magical sphere materialized, inscribed with enigmatic runes that defied comprehension.
The Abyss Prince's body underwent a startling transformation, his skin vanishing to reveal the raw sinew and muscle beneath.
"You!" he snarled, baring his teeth as his fury became palpable. In mere moments, his body regenerated, restoring his former appearance. With breathtaking speed, he charged towards the dragonwulf, his movements a blur of lethal intent.
The magical sphere emitted a resplendent light, its radiance enveloping both Shalanta and the Mystical Creature. As the luminous energy swirled around them, their bodies gradually dissipated, leaving behind an ethereal afterglow.
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