Elizabeth wielded her sword with the grace of a true knight, brandishing her weapon as if it were a part of her. She channeled her magic into her sword, producing slashing attacks made of wind that cut through the enemy with ease.
She also used her magic cleverly to enhance her speed, ensuring that her armor didn't hold her back. Her agility was comparable to, if not greater than, that of the demi-humans she was fighting.
Among the soldiers, she easily stood out the most. However, she paid no mind to the disgruntled faces of the men who couldn't believe that a woman was outperforming them. Some looked downright furious, while others seemed smitten by her beauty and skill.
Edmond didn't fail to notice her presence either. He sat atop his war horse, watching the chaos unfold below him with indifference. One of his soldiers approached and handed him a pair of gloves coated in a slimy substance—fish oil.
He directed his attention to the White-Fang's den, from which more demi-humans were still pouring out. Aiming his magic at the den, he conjured a spiral of reddish flames that circled around his palm. The energy continued to grow larger, taking on the form of a tornado made of fire. It swirled around the den like a raging storm, burning everything in its path.
Horrifying screams echoed from within the fiery tornado as the demi-humans burned to death. The demi-humans fighting the mage soldiers turned their attention to their den at the sound of the screams. Panic set in as they saw their home beginning to burn to the ground, giving the mages the opportunity to turn the tide of the battle.
With their morale shattered, Damien seized the moment to go on a killing spree, cutting down one demi-human after another. Before long, all the demi-humans lay dead on the ground.
They had lost over thirty mages during the conflict, most of them young boys who had never held a weapon before. There were many injuries to tend to, and there was only one white mage among the troops—Victor.
They took a two-hour break to regain their strength before continuing their march. However, what they didn't know was that word had gotten out to the demi-humans about their invasion of Beastoria.
The other 250 troops had already inflicted significant damage on the surrounding tribes. Most of these tribes, being peaceful creatures, decided to leave their homes and venture further inland. They found themselves caught between a rock and a hard place, as the more aggressive tribes of demi-humans lived deeper inland.
As night began to fall, Edmond's troops decided to settle in for the day and started assembling their tents.
Damien settled down outside their tent, with Von seated beside him. He had been staying much closer to Damien since the incident with the child demi-human.
"Such a shame. I bet the kid I killed was from the White-Fang tribe," Von said, gazing at the smoke rising in the distance from the White-Fang's den.
"That seems probable," Damien replied. "What, are you feeling guilty?"
"A little, yes. How could I not? I'm not a psychopath, after all," he said, downing a cup of ale while seated atop an empty barrel, with Damien leaning against the tent to his right. "But I'd do it again. I'll probably kill more children during this damned war. It doesn't mean I enjoy it. I find my pleasures in ale and women, not in offing kids."
"It's dirty work. I've never cared for bloodshed either, but a lot of the time, it's the best course of action," Damien replied, looking at Von with curiosity. "Tell me, is ale and women really all you're after?"
"Yeah, well, I guess I wouldn't mind being king." Von said, smiling ear to ear until his expression shifted slightly. "I have to admit, I didn't think you'd still be here with us… you know, seeing as you don't possess mana or anything. But here you are. You really prove me wrong; you're very skilled with a sword."
"Is that why you're still hanging around me? You acted like you hated my guts before, and now you're all smiles."
"I told you, I'm a simple man: ale and women, my friend, ale and women. I'm not like Darrion, who gets bent out of shape over killing a measly child. Sure, it's tragic and all, but I won't let it drag down my mood."
Later that night, as they slept, their watchmen were being savagely taken out. The attackers headed straight into their camp, planning to unleash carnage. Suddenly, a cacophony of shouts and screams erupted from the camp.
Damien promptly got up from his slumber, sword in hand. The rest of his unit followed suit.
"What's the commotion?" Von asked, rubbing his eyes.
Just then, a horn blew loudly throughout the camp.
"We're under attack!" Elizabeth shouted. "Get your weapons!"
They grabbed their weapons and exited the tent.
Upon exiting their tent, they witnessed the horrific sight of demi-humans ripping their comrades apart. These demi-humans were easily over eight feet tall, covered in brown hair that even grew over their faces. They possessed monstrously long claws and had the physique of bodybuilders, resembling wild bears.
They killed without mercy, even going so far as to eat the dead bodies, shrugging off the blasts from the muskets as if they were nothing.
There couldn't be more than twenty of them, but in a camp with over two hundred mages, they felt invincible.
"We should retreat!" Damien urged. One look and he knew they were outmatched.
"No, we can't abandon our comrades," Elizabeth replied, drawing her sword.
"That's not a problem for me. There's no way in hell I'm going to fight one of those things head-on. Our best course of action is to retreat and regroup when we're at our best."
"I said no! We have to stay and fight!"
"Suit yourself."
Without sparing a second, Damien rushed for the nearest exit out of the camp. 'It was up to them if they wanted to die' Damien thought.