The Strongest Spellblade

The land near the port town had several farms as we walked at a brisk pace. Even with stamina potions we were dead on our feet. It was exhausting trying to keep up a fast pace. Even Lanner was jogging now, since Wild Tail was also exhausted.

Pulling out a Mana potion I drank it, since my Danger Sense was growing. My reserves were recovering slower than they should and my Alchemic toxicity was getting high. There was no activity from the nearby farms and I could tell that the elves were preparing for us ahead. Also, they couldn’t hide the large numbers they had amassed or the torches they had staked out away from the port town. My eyes scanned the size of the ambush. This was going to be rough.

“When we need to run don’t stop. I am counting at least two hundred elves. Most aren’t that strong or look combat focused, but that is a lot of arrows,” I said with an exhausted sigh. Every part of my body felt heavy and tired.

“We will be right behind you,” Garth said while trying to regulate his breathing. He clearly hadn’t worked on his running or breathing skills enough.

“Lanner, don’t hold back. We don’t stop till we reach a dwarven ship,” I said as I came to a stop.

“Why stop?” Garth asked.

“Give me a moment. They won’t advance and I can use the time to prepare for our charge,” I said while moving my blade through the air with extreme precision. Even exhausted, I would never let my blade falter. I had enough training and that particular lesson pounded into my head to know that the last part of my body that should fail should be my sword arm.

The elves guarding the port town were clearly confused about what I was doing. I heard shouts and jeers, but they didn’t concern me. This runic structure was slightly trickier, basically two in one, but it was the best option to break through.

Killing this many elves might have been possible, but it wouldn’t be practical. One of us would get killed and the rest of us would be injured in some way. Killing everyone in our path wasn’t the point, the goal was to leave elven territory as quickly as possible.

Some elves raced forward and shot arrows that arced towards us. “Now?” Garth asked as the arrows missed us. The fact they had broken ranks like that while not sending up a more elite force to target me directly to stop me from creating Mana shaped runes in the air was all that I needed to know about their severe lack of fighting ability.

More elves ran out from their defense positions shooting arrows as the ones in front came closer to get a better shot at hitting us. “Now?” Garth asked again nervously. I didn’t say anything to him. He would know when we needed to move.

Ozy kept checking our flanks and rear, no ambush. This proved the elves in front of us were complete amateurs in terms of fighting tactics. The runes flew forwards as they collapsed in on themselves.

Two massive arcs of flames began to shoot out from my position, curving back towards the road and ending just past the elvish lines. Each arc of flame formed a long ‘C’ shape to prevent us from being flanked as we rushed forward while disrupting their battle line. I was already running once I had released the runic structures.

As the flames raced forward, we did as well. The elves panicked and scrambled backwards. Time to cause more panic as a barrage of arrows flew towards us.

“Fireball. Fireball. Fireball.”

Ozy created a funnel of air in front of us, to push the flames forwards and to the sides. My spell skills flew through the air, their impact diminishing by the time they reached the paltry defenses the elves had set up.

But it wasn’t about killing anyone, it was about creating a panic. The elves who had raced forward were racing backwards. The defensive line in front of us broke apart as the initial runic made flames did their job of pushing the elves away from our path.

Arrows rained down at us.

“Ward!”

“Ward!”

One arrow bounced off my helmet. Another hit Ozy and bounced out. I heard Wild Tail let out a loud yelp of pain, but we couldn’t stop.

Five elves rushed out to block our rush. The one in the center was a professional, around level 60.

“Stone Wall!”

They used the spell skill under their feet so they could stab down and pen us in. That would be a smart move if I was a regular opponent, not a professional adventurer with options. My off hand brought up my wand. The Explosion blew through the Stone Wall creating a gap and blowing the elves off their feet, and a foot off an elf.

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“Fireball!”

My spell skill hit the ground right past the gap, setting the elves on the ground on fire and forcing the ones that might be nearby back. I rushed through the gap.

My Danger Sense peaked. I jerked to the side. An arrow went into my neck. My breath my caught in my throat. I felt my neck become warm.

A sword came at me. I took the blow on my helmet and charged forward while thrusting my sword, skewering the elf in front of me. Twisting my blade to the side they went tumbling away.

Two more elves came at me with spears. I deflected one spear and cut off one elf’s arm. Yor rushed forward deflecting the other spears and shattering the elven spearman. Splatters of blood came out with each gasping breath as we raced through the town to the port.

“The left ship! Gray sails!” Garth shouted.

I felt an arrow ping off my rear armor. I couldn’t focus on what Ozy was letting me know as we raced towards the ship. Several dwarves raced off the ship, while others brought up cannons to the rails.

My eyes burned. My ears shook. Everything spun about as I stumbled forward step after step.

I stumbled up the gangplank. I managed to tuck my wand into a glove and not completely collapse as I leaned against a mast. There was shouting going on around me, but I couldn’t pay attention.

Bringing up a trembling hand, I gripped in the arrow in my neck. I ripped it out. Ozy hit with me with a Greater Cure.

“Ack! Ack!” I coughed up blood as my breath returned.

“Let those elven whores have it! BURN THE TOWN! NO MERCY!” I barely heard that shout over the barrage of dwarven weapons unleashing on the town. The sharp crackle of lightening based Mana spell skills echoed out in the early morning.

Then there were the screams and cries of the battle. There was massive explosion as a building exploded. Several elves on the roof lost their limbs. This was horrible. I turned my gaze away.

Looking at teammates, Wild Tail was the worst off. He had taken several arrows, but he had made it. The most critical arrows had been removed and Ozy had used Greater Cure on him. That might have risks, but hopefully small ones, since the elves didn’t seem to have anyone with range weapon skills that were imbued with Mana.

Lanner had a huge gash running down the top of his head, coating his face with blood. Garth was grunting as a dwarven medic was pulling out an arrow and using a healing skill on him. Yor was intact as far as I could tell, but covered with blood.

“Marines! Shield wall! Advance and fire!” Dwarven troops were marching down the docks unleashing handheld cannons while holding large tower shields. The elves arrows were ineffective against trained soldiers with professional equipment.

Pulling out healing potions, I took one and another to both Wild Tail and Lanner. An important looking dwarf came over to Garth and saluted. “Executive Stoneskin, I hope our preparations met your expectations,” the dwarf said proudly as the town burned with the screams of the dead and dying.

“Excellent work, Captain. Kill them all, spare no one. To think these elves could take my life. The audacity. Purge them all to the last woman and child. The rot must be removed, to leave only progress. If the elves wish to pay me in treachery, daring to assassinate me! Then I will bring the fire of Balde’s Maw upon them!” Garth declared with venom.

“Your companions?” the dwarf asked.

“Honored guests of the Stoneskin Corporation. Make sure they are treated well. I wouldn’t have made it without their help. The Corporation owes a debt that is not easily repaid,” Garth said.

“The civilians,” I said, wanting to object what was occurring as the dwarven Marines swept through the port town massacring all the elves. I had to take a steadying breath with how tired I was, but Garth answered me right away.

“Will all be dead or fleeing. We will strip this port town bear and burn the rest to the ground. Don’t worry, This insult upon you will be avenged as well. The only elf is a treacherous elf. The only elf that isn’t treacherous is a dead one. They learn this in the womb. To think, I was the one advocating for peace, for trading to everyone. Wanting to help these bastard whores born from Balde’s Maw!” Garth said in pure rage.

“To make me run! To send a legend to kill me! Well, I will let them know how many dwarven skulls are worth to one elf skull. All the corporations will rally at this. Since the elves don’t want to trade, we will kill them all off and take their lands. Put to better use than those treacherous monster birthed maggot infested pointy ears ever could!”

“No worries, my men know to kill them all and to spare no one. The other executives?”

“Captured and most likely dead. I am lucky to have escaped alive. I swear on my ancestors for nine generations, I will never deal with another elf ever again,” Garth said while panting. Clearly worn out from his ranting and cursing. He clearly had a tremendous amount of pent up rage.

“They could have been after me,” I spoke up. I couldn’t conceal something like my identity. I knew that Garth wouldn’t turn on me, but I had to stop this massacre if I could. It was wrong.

“You? You are capable, but you are no legend,” Garth said.

“I am Justin Burnstock,” I declared. He blinked several times and looked closer at my face.

“Who?” he asked.

“The son of Supreme Legend Elena Burnstock and Emperor Darren Burnstock,” I declared. There was a silence at this as the screams of the dying and dammed continued to echo out as the massacre continued.

“Hmm, you might be as important as me. But you are just an adventurer. A capable one. But the Reforged Eldarin Empire isn’t hereditary. That was made quite clear. And the elves clearly let you go,” he said. I didn’t know what to say.

“No worries though. I will tell your father of your bravery and aid in great detail. I know he would be proud of you, killing these elves,” Garth declared. My words failed me. I wanted to shout, to protest, but there was nothing I could do. I had tried, but Garth refused to see the truth. The elves that were being massacred, were no longer hastily pressganged soldiers, but actual civilians.

I closed my eyes and lowered my head. I didn’t have the strength or energy to object more. There was also a dark part in my heart that said all the elves deserved it and they needed to die.

For the first time in my life, I felt shame at what I had done and allowed to happen. The hundreds of elves living in this port town would be nothing by dawn and I had helped set it all in motion.