The battle and bloodshed continued. And while it was clear to Duke Coven, who had been commanding the army from the city wall, that they were having the upper hand, he still felt uneasy for some reason. The duke’s brows were furrowed as he watched the movement of the enemy troop. His life-long experience was telling him that something was not right.
“Is something the matter, Your Grace?”
Morle asked when he noticed the tense expression that the duke had.
“Something’s not right about the enemy troop.”
“If I may ask, what makes you say so?”
“The Dark elves who are supposed to be the enemy’s major fighting force are not being as active as they should. There are less than twenty of them on the battlefield. And the rest of them are acting strange.”