A desperate hope flickered in the eyes of the Elves with their question. They knew from the mont they witnessed his ability to fly that this human was no ordinary mage.
He was a Sovereign and undoubtedly the human king. But they also believed in their own Queen, confident that she would teach this audacious human a lesson.
As King Theron slowly stroked his neatly trimd mustache, his eyes glinted with a cruel amusent.
"Very well," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that sent shivers down their spines.
"Call her. But understand this: I will kill one of you for each ti I count to two hundred until I see her. One of you may go. The rest will stay."
The words hung in the air, a chilling promise. The Elves’ faces were drained of all color, and a collective gasp of terror escaped their lips.
All of them, suddenly taken by the instinct for survival, desperately wanted to be the one to escape.
The mont he finished his sentence, they all lunged forward, scrambling to be the one to dash towards the safety of the interior.
Unfortunately for them, Theron’s aura, previously a re sensation of dread, now pressed down with the crushing weight of a mountain.
Four of the five Elves instantly crumpled, their legs giving out, faces pale with horror as they found themselves pinned to the ground, utterly immobile.
Only one, a swift female Elf, had managed to dart forward with the aid of a light-based spell, a desperate burst of speed propelling her towards the outpost’s main entrance.
"I said only one," Theron intoned, his voice echoing eerily. "And all of you were far too slow."
The four prostrate Elves could only stare in wide-eyed horror as they internally hoped for their Queen’s swift arrival.
Theron began to count imdiately. "One... two... three..."
Each number was a hamr blow, driving deeper into the Elves’ raw nerves. Their eyes darted frantically towards the outpost’s entrance, yearning for any sign of hope. But the monts stretched into an eternity, and the entrance remained stubbornly empty.
"... One hundred and ninety-eight... one hundred and ninety-nine... two hundred."
Theron yawned, a languid stretch that seed to mock their terror. He looked down at the four prostrate Elves, their faces contorted in a silent plea.
"As you can see, it’s ti. Now, who wants to go first?"
Silence was their only answer, broken only by the ragged gasps of their breath. Their gazes remained fixed on the entrance, a desperate, unspoken prayer for intervention. But nothing ca. Theron’s patience, thin to begin with, had finally snapped.
"I suppose I’ll decide that myself."
With a casual snap of his fingers, two of the Elves, the closest to him, shrieked.
Their heads, without warning, erupted into vibrant, hungry flas. The fire consud their hair and flesh with terrifying speed, yet sohow contained to only their skulls.
There was no smoke, no lingering scent of burning; just the instantaneous, horrifying consumption.
They thrashed for a brief, agonizing mont, their limbs flailing in a macabre dance, before collapsing onto the ground... dead.
Their bodies remained strangely intact, a testant to Theron’s precise control over his magic.
The remaining two Elves stared wide-eyed, tears streaming down their faces. They wanted to scream, to protest this brutal execution of their kind, but the words caught in their throats.
Theron chuckled in an unsettling sound. "I killed two? Oops. My bad."
They could only whimper and curse under their breath, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
Just then, a powerful, commanding presence surged through the air, sending a ripple across Theron’s formidable aura.
It wasn’t an attack, no violent collision of wills, but a subtle yet undeniable disturbance, enough to montarily pull Theron’s focus.
Theron turned, his eyes narrowing slightly, to face the new arrival.
It was another Elf, tall and regal, with long raven-black hair that fell over broad shoulders. His violet eyes held an intense gaze and his exposed abs radiated power.
"What is the aning of this? Have you no sha, human, to desecrate our land with such barbarity?" the Elf demanded.
King Theron didn’t recognize the figure before him, nor did he care. He simply straightened, his posture regaining its imperious grace.
"My ssage must have been delivered to you," he stated, ignoring the Elf’s outrage. "I asked for Gaya. Where is she?"
The Elf’s expression hardened. "The Queen cannot et you at your whims. Begone from our land, human!"
A wicked smile stretched across Theron’s lips.
"Oh, really? Even after all the damage I’ve caused to her land? Or perhaps will she et when I flip her beloved nation upside down?"
The Elf’s jaw tightened, and he bit down on his teeth in suppressed fury.
"I’ve told you that she won’t be eting you, and that is all you should get into your head. Why are you dying to et her, anyway? If you truly wish to attack Eldryth, then I’d like to see you try."
He spoke with an almost reckless confidence despite being only a 9-Star mage.
He knew that even the King could not simply overwhelm an entire continent defended by nurous powerful mages. In their own territory at worse.
Theron rely smiled, massaging his mustache with a thoughtful gesture.
"Interesting. So Gaya is this reserved, is she? That’s a surprise." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the ravaged barrier and the terrified Elves. "Well, my work here is done. So I’ll be going now."
"... And about Gaya, I won’t be the one dying to see her next ti we et. That’s a promise."
With an evil grin that sent a fresh wave of dread through the Elves, King Theron ascended into the sky, a dark silhouette against the vibrant green of the forest, and vanished from sight.
The mont he disappeared, the two remaining prostrate Elves scrambled to their feet, relief and resentnt warring on their faces.
"Lord Vamir!" one cried, staggering forward. "Thank you for your intervention! That filthy human ran because he’s scared of our Queen! But why let him go scot-free?"
Vamir, his violet eyes still fixed on the empty sky where Theron had vanished, ignored their indignant question.
"Apologies for the casualties. I’ll make an announcent by noon, so return to your hos and rest."
With that, he turned and left imdiately, striding swiftly towards the heart of the outpost. But the last words of the human king echoed chillingly in his mind.
"He’ll be coming with an army," Vamir murmured, a grim realization dawning on him. "This is bad."
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