Renjiro said calmly, "I’ll give you one minute. Pray to your God."
The kobold elder suddenly shrieked in terror, "Great Elf King! Your Majesty! Our tribe has no quarrel with the noble elves! This war... it shouldn’t happen! Plea—"
Even as he pleaded.
The kobold warriors behind him were already tightening their grips on their crude weapons.
Being humble was just an act to beg for rcy.
If rcy wasn’t given, they weren’t just going to kneel there and die.
"Kill them!"
Renjiro didn’t waste words. He gave the order to attack.
The mont he spoke, countless elven arrows shot into the sky, whistling sharply as they arched towards the kobolds crowded on the peak.
"GRRAAAAH!!"
The kobold elder seed ready for this. He scrambled to his feet instantly.
He slamd the butt of his magic staff onto the ground, sending out pulsing rings of grey magic.
Whenever a kobold warrior was hit by these magic ripples, their eyes flared red. They snarled, baring their teeth, and let out low, guttural growls.
It was so kind of orcish battle rage.
Kind of like the aura magic so ogre chieftains used.
"YAP! YAP! WOOF!"
A huge wave of kobold warriors charged, waving their simple weapons and barking like mad dogs.
"WOOF!"
"For the Kobold Tribe!"
"KILL! KILL THE KING!"
Thousands of them rushed forward. It was actually quite a sight.
Too bad for them. When the storm of arrows from the elven archers rained down, the charging kobolds were instantly cut to pieces, falling like weeds.
Screams echoed across the mountainside.
The kobold elder’s eyes burned red with fury. He roared, "Elf King! Why?! Why would the elves, the peace-loving Race, bring slaughter to our small kobold tribe?!"
Renjiro replied coldly, "I expect your God will tell you the answer to that question!"
As he finished speaking, Sylphie, the elf general on the unicorn, focused. A blinding surge of holy magic erupted from her, channeled through the golden horn of her mount.
....
The battlefield was a ss of smoke and ash, the air heavy with the sll of burnt earth. Renjiro stood tall, his green eyes sharp as he looked over the kobold camp, now silent except for the crackle of dying fires.
Varn, Nina, and the Bone Dragon stood nearby, watching the scene unfold. The elves around them held their bows tightly, ready for anything.
Renjiro raised his voice, clear and strong, cutting through the haze. "But tell ... You think your God will tell you or even care for you?" he said, staring at the old kobold chieftain across the field. "Let’s see if your god has any answers for you today!"
The chieftain, his fur gray and patchy, gripped his crude spear and snarled, but before he could respond, a bright glow lit up the elven ranks.
Sylphie, the unicorn leader, stepped forward.
Her coat shimred like moonlight, and her golden horn sparkled with power. Holy magic poured from her, so strong it made the air hum and the ground tremble. Everyone—elves, kobolds, even Varn—felt it press against their skin, warm and heavy.
Sylphie’s eyes locked on Renjiro, and she rembered his words from days ago, when he’d promised she could show her true strength.
He’d told her the kobolds, with their endless raids, would be the perfect target. Now was her mont. She lowered her horn, and with a soft whinny, she unleashed her spell.
"Holy Light!" she called, her voice ringing like a bell.
The sky above the kobold camp blazed. Hundreds of glowing orbs, each burning with sacred fire, appeared out of nowhere. They hung for a mont, bright as stars, then fell like rain. The kobolds looked up, their eyes wide with fear, as the orbs crashed down.
Boom! Boom! The orbs hit the ground and exploded, sending waves of golden flas roaring through the camp.
Tents caught fire, wooden barricades turned to ash, and kobold warriors scread as the sacred fire consud them.
The heat was so fierce it lted their rusty weapons into puddles. In monts, thousands of kobolds—whole ranks of them—were gone, reduced to piles of gray dust scattered across the dirt.
The surviving kobolds, their fur singed and eyes wild, didn’t run. Their faith in their god, Ocktem, burned stronger than the flas.
"Kill! For the Tribe!" they shouted, waving their spears and axes. "Aaargh!" They charged forward, driven by desperation and devotion, their claws scratching at the ground.
But the elves weren’t done. Elaria, a slender elf with hair, stepped up beside Sylphie. She raised her staff, its tip glowing with soft blue light. "Moon Goddess, hear ," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Falling Stars!"
The sky shimred again, but this ti, it wasn’t fire. Tiny specks of light, like glowing snowflakes, drifted down.
They looked harmless, sparkling as they fell, but when they touched the kobolds, sothing strange happened.
The warriors froze, their bodies locked in place. Glowing patterns, like constellations, spread across their fur, holding them still as statues. They couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink, their eyes wide with panic.
The elves didn’t hesitate. With a single command from Renjiro, they raised their bows and let loose a storm of arrows. The air buzzed as hundreds of sharp-tipped shafts flew, each one finding its mark.
The frozen kobolds fell, one after another, their bodies crumpling to the ground. In less than a minute, the entire attacking force was gone—wiped out, leaving only silence behind.
Only the old chieftain and his small group of guards remained, standing in the middle of the ruined camp.
The chieftain’s hands shook as he gripped his spear, his voice hoarse but defiant. "Elf King!" he spat, glaring at Renjiro. "You’ll regret this! The Orc King will crush you for what you’ve done!"
Renjiro didn’t flinch. He stepped forward, his cloak fluttering in the smoky breeze, and looked down at the chieftain with calm, cold eyes.
"Do you really think the Orcs care about you?" he asked, his voice steady. "To them, kobolds are just pawns. They won’t start a war for your sake."
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