Unable to voice their grievances directly to Arathion, the elves mocked Sylas. If this were set up as a sparring match, he likely did possess some ancient blood. But that alone wasn't enough to impress them. What was a mere mortal with brute strength compared to the monstrous forces they already knew?
'Even if the duke called us here, he won't convince us completely.'
'We'll follow his lead, though we'll make it clear it's under protest.'
For elves who despised humans, this was the most resistance they could muster. Participating as spectators in this performance, they had no intention of pretending otherwise. But the moment the duel began, all such thoughts vanished.
Boom! Crash! Clang!
"...."
"...."