The troops were ready. I could not advance further into the enemy ranks. My people were impatient, especially Judeus's friend. But he knew he was not a strategist—he would only go to die. I was sure he would do it anyway. However, Lilith asked him to obey me, so for the first time since our creation, a high-level mage followed the instructions of a priest. If it were not such a desperate situation, I might stop to smile.
We were a kilometer from the city. From here, we saw their enormous armies, all waiting to enter. If only we could call the Redcaps to assist us, but they had no desire to lose ranks just to aid a well-intentioned man. Several of my men made minor incursions, but we only eliminated a few hundred. No matter how much, our power was not enough. So we entered amid the confusion, and once in the center, we exploded in a magic that my old master called Divine Fury... it was nothing divine—an accumulation of magic on the surface that descended like lightning, causing bruises and burns. It took time to perform, but most of the "mages" who could detect it were far away, at the entrance, waiting for the invasion.
We could all hear some of Lilith's words, mainly to regroup. She assured us he would not fall so quickly, but that we had to enter and eliminate as many as we could. Most did not question her—why would we? He was the only one who helped, to a greater or lesser extent, all those creatures that could not currently survive without magic or special care. That was what they said in the Dark Forest. Moreover, he provided knowledge to the Blackcap mages—too bad their leader's hatred did not allow them to come. Still, I thought we would be insufficient. My troops were barely five hundred discipline priests and only about two hundred dark ones—few in comparison. But we distributed ourselves as best we could, all in places where we could flee after each attack, each one designated to affect those nearby, with a strategy to prevent being surrounded, supporting each other, always seeking that extra moment that kept us out of their conventional forces. But everyone was afraid. They knew who we were facing—the number of people who perished or became part of their ranks after the conversion. None of us had family among the affected, which was why we were here. The Whitecap of Stormhammer had foreseen this; his important forces were in the minor cities, taking care of everyone. That was why he was like this—he only had students in his tower. But, like everything, that detail made those of us present decide to protect him. We would not let them be annihilated like us.
The barrier trembled. Each blow from that creature was fearsome. I would personally fight against all those behind it. But against that... what could I do? From what they told me, his shield was unbreakable—the Whitecaps had the necessary control to damage it. That was another reason to defend Judeus. It would not be easy. My lungs resented each impact—it was as if a low sound was not heard, but its vibrations were.
I checked the defenses for the thousandth time, but there was nothing I did not already know. Our weapons were hardened staves, knives. Our defenses were small shields, some light breastplates, our magic-resistant robes. We wore head protections in the form of small tiaras or hoods with iron plates and as many protection runes as the metal could hold. Traveler's boots, cured leather, old but mended, ready to take their wearer as far as possible in case the plans failed. About this, I would like to think a lot—would the Blood Elves help us? Lilith assured they would, but no one believed it. They were a bunch of conceited people; I doubted the ones who saved them would help. Yet she was the one giving the suggestions... That blow was incredible! The protection fell. The sound was that of a crying child—sad, heartbreaking from the outrage. I gave the order, and we began the attack.
The arms wielding things against us were many. The layers of magic I applied over myself barely protected me long enough to make space and keep attacking. Some of my men had fallen—in the first ten minutes! I did not think we could resist at this rate. Yes, the magic worked: when the protection fell, many of the attackers suddenly began to move away, but a very significant number of enemies remained, all determined to kill us. Suddenly, I found myself cornered—all because I followed Greybeard. As soon as the protection collapsed, he began running to the center of the invasion. First, I thought he would die without more, but when they were surrounding him, his beard bristled—the first time, I almost fell with the rest. At that moment, he jumped, descending the slope, turned into a sphere of fire. It was impressive. When he reached where he intended, he was enveloped for a few seconds—long enough for the enemies to approach. Then he released it like a wave of flames, leaving a true path of destruction in his wake. Yet we were still surrounded. Heavy shields blocked our way, and although the flames were destructive, behind five centimeters of steel, it would take time to penetrate that deep. Definitely, we had problems.
When I reached him, some shields had fallen despite everything. He had never been weak, but he was exhausted. He had not stopped running and casting enchantments. He had an arrow in his leg, but it did not seem to be bleeding. Still, I extracted it, without stopping watching the rest. I extracted the poison and cauterized the wound. He said nothing; he used these seconds to catch his breath. Then I saw the arrows—hundreds coming toward us. I raised the Ultimate Protection. I could not let him die like that—exhausted. In the magic layer, I could see the projectiles. It was very useful, but it tired me quickly, so I only used it when I was truly at risk. I thought this was the case.
When the shield faded after barely ten seconds—in a one-on-one fight, that was more than enough—he smiled and thanked me with a nod. Then from his hands came whips of light. Something told me he knew he would fall and did not intend to go alone. I raised my protections again—it was all that was left. I had eliminated about two hundred. If I had not chased that man, that would not be true—but Greybeard's death would hurt as much as losing half of us. A sigh escaped my throat—it was time to die.
Another volley of arrows came toward us. Without a shield, all I could think was to protect myself with the enemies. But these arrows accelerated and sounded like the forest, like the whisper of leaves in the wind. All fell into the necks of the heavy defenders. A two-centimeter gap, and whoever it was hit it! The Whitecap did not waste time and threw himself back into the fray. As I ran after him, I could see bushes moving in the treetops—that was where the arrows came from! An enemy managed to hit me in the back—more by luck than skill. It hurt, but my cloth resisted, and the physical damage absorption runes prevented me from exposing my insides in battle. I turned to eliminate the perpetrator when I saw someone had gotten ahead of me. She wore wood and cloth, but she was beautiful. She shouted that there was no time to lose, rejoining the battle. Hang me! Not only were the Blood Elves there—I had just met a Forest Elf. Not all was lost! Oh heavens, that scream—of immense pain... My Lady of the Night, do not let us arrive too late!