Farelen decided to take down the leader of the assailants, especially now since he had been pushed into the fight.

  The demon was much larger than his counter-part, infact, he was even taller than Farelen himself. He was wielding a great-sword — something that was common for someone of his size, but he was rather lanky and leaned-muscled.

  They stood face to face yet neither attacked — sauntering in an arc, trying to close the distance slowly between themselves. Neither of them flinched even for the slightest of moment. They were eye-balling for any potential weak point, even though demons rarely thought of such strategies.

  Both of them waited for the other party to strike. They had recognized each-other's strength already, and did not make the mistake of treading carelessly. The surprising part came after a few moments when the demon spoke:

  “My name is Aaroth, and I have slain one-hundred men with this sword. If you do not wish to be added to the slain, you better run away, and I might forgive you for your insolence to even stand in front of me,”

  Aaroth spoke with pride, he was fluent in the human tongue.

  “I have killed a hundred men in a single battle young demon. You are a century too young to be challenging me. I have killed men such as yourself with bare-hands, and I shall proceed to do so in this fight as well.”

  Farelen scabbard his battle-axe to his back which annoyed his opponent abit, but he remained cautious and composed.

  The battle begun with Farelen making the first move — he charged towards his opponent. His movements were swift and certainly not proportionate to his size which took the enemy by surprise. Aaorth only managed to escape from the clenches of the giant by a mere a second of delay.

  Farelen stood there grining like the devil, which in normal circumstances would have forced anyone to flee from the scene, but a battle-hardened warrior was not someone who could be easily intimidated. In matters of bravery and courage, the two might have been comparable to each other, but neither would admit such a thing.

  The next attack was by the demon, who launched a series of slashes using his great-sword like a whip. He wielded it so smoothly that it felt he held a wooden-stick, or a short-sword instead of the large, almost qualifying for a blunt weapon, great-sword.

  Farelen though was famous for his strength, but did not dared to try the same move, he had used at the battle of authority — trying to catch the sword with his bare hands. He was sure that it could lead to his ultimate demise which was a worthy praise for anyone in the continent.

  He was able to dodge all the attacks, but only narrowly. A slight delay or a small misstep could have led to a lethal wound, so he tried to tread carefully the whole time.

  Soon the demon’s attacks slowed down, not by much, but against an experienced warrior even half a second of delay could cause the ultimate loss of your head so he distanced himself alittle to catch a breath. To his surprise, Farelen was not even one bit tired. Infact, he was much more faster and agile than before, as if he had adapted to the movements of his opponent.

  The giant, Farelen, followed the demon as he tried to run away which gave his opponent absolutely no time to recover, but this was all a hoax — a trick.

  The demon deflected the blows of his opponent with the help of mighty blade, but the punches just continued in rapid succession. He was being pushed back, but then something surprising happened...

  Farelen was suddenly stabbed in the gut — he jumped back a few steps to find a dagger thrusted right into his abdomen.....

  Aaroth, somehow, had managed to use his dagger with such speed that even his opponent, who was incredibly experienced, could not detect it.

  "You are good, demon. I will give you that." The giant took out the dagger, and threw it away.

  "You are just old, elf, thus your senses have dulled down." Aaroth mocked.

  The demon took the charge this time, leaping forward, closing the distance against his injured opponent who just stood there with open arms. Though, unsure at first, he still performed his attack, but—

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  Farelen even with a bleeding gut was able to dodge, and then punch his opponent right in the face, throwing the gigantic hell-spawn few yards away.

  The giant then ambled towards his enemy with great confidence, yet he was surprised to see that Aaorth was still standing on his feet.

  Captain Farelen, now obviously injured, finally took out his great-axe. He could not afford to be cocky anymore, which brought a sly smile to Aaroth's face:

  "What happened old man? Tired already?"

  Farelen did not reply, but carefully sauntered forward which frustrated the demon even more.

  The first to charge, once more, was the demon who was confident in his endurance. He leaped high into the air imitating his opponent's earlier attack on his dead soldiers. He came down at a great speed with near-perfect precision, but was still blocked by his opponent — the clash of their weapons generated sparks. Both had great strength thus neither was able to push the other back, as if an unstoppable force against an immovable object.

  This clasping of weapons ended shortly when Aaroth kicked Farelen in the gut with such brute force that he got pushed a few steps. Seeing the opportunity, he quickly followed up with another strike at his unbalanced opponent and barely managed to graze him before the giant got a hold of himself again. Both bounced back a few steps.

  Farelen had stopped bleeding already. Due to his thick skin, the dagger had not penetrated to his vitals in the slightest which was disappointing for the enemy.

  "I must admit: I have rarely ever met someone who matched my strength." Farelen commented.

  "I must compliment you in the same regard, especially for an elderly person."

  Aaroth just could not let go of the mocking, yet it hardly had any effect on his composed opponent.

  They slashed at each-other various times. Soon, both were covered with grazes and scratches, yet the tough skin of both made it near-impossible to inflict a lethal wound. It was all coming down to endurance, in which department the demons excelled against almost all other races.

  Sensing the impending dangerous situation he could find himself in soon, Farelen decided to end it all in the next strike. Aaroth stood his ground, having sensed that he just needed to stall a little more....

  Cold wind blew, the tension in the air was thick. The sound of swords clashing in the distance further added to the tense environment. Both were leaders of their respective groups, thus needed to defeat the other for a morale boost for their soldiers. Both knew, whoever fell will take their force with them.

  Farelen begun to leap towards his opponent, but then did something unexpected — the giant Farelen did not charge now, rather came to a halt. He proceeded to launch his giant axe with such force towards his opponent that it even surpassed the speed of an arrow. The giant frame of the axe made it nearly impossible to dodge it in time, whilst also keeping track of the opponent.

  Aaroth did not have much time to think, he planted his feet firmly, and instead of trying to dodge, decided to deflect the impending attack with his trusty sword. Upon the clash, sparks flew with such ferocity that they could have been mistaken for blazing fire....

  In the end, Aaroth had stopped the attack, but at the cost of his sword breaking in-half, and he himself left gasping for air—

  Farelen lunged at him at once, and this time was able to catch him between his massive arms. One could have mistaken this for a hug, but they could not have been more wrong, as this was more of a death-trap then a sign of affection or care.

  He lifted his massive opponent, crushing him using his immensely powerful grip which caused even the bones of a demon to crack. The noise of the crackling could have echoed throughout the battle-filed if there was no-one else around. Soon, Farelen finally let go of his opponent, but not because the battle had already concluded, but due to a strange sensation he felt around his chest.

  After he had distanced himself alittle. Upon lookng down, he found that another dagger had been thursted into his chest by the demon at the very moment he had been grappled. The giant fell to his knees.

  The demon laid on the ground as well. He could have not moved even if he had wanted to as his spine had been obliterated, but he still wore a satisfied grin by looking over at his enemy who was on his knees. He felt as if he had accomplished something before losing his ability to fight, but to his horror, Farelen got up and simply removed the dagger with ease after a few moments.

  The wound, once again, was not deep enough to reach his heart due to the opponent simply being too muscular and thick-skinned. Farelen was not a giant only for his height, but also due to his absolute stature. His bone structure might have been even more tougher than demons and muscle composition much more complex than the beast-men.

  Men who accompanied the great sword-saint simply were far too strong themselves, which was the criteria for them being chosen in the first place.

  Farelen did not wear a smug look on his face to mock his opponent because he had blundered not once, but many times in this battle. He was only saved due to luck and the exhaustion of his enemy after the last attack.

  The demon tried to end himself, but he was quickly unarmed while his arms and legs were tied by his opponent. Farelen regarded the hell-spawn as an important prisoner, yet also an impressive adversary, so he stated:

  "I shall remember this fight till the day I die. You fought well. Even the slightest of carelessness would have put me in the same spot as you."

  Farelen then punched Aaroth in the face — knocking him out in the process. The giant had won the battle for now, but he still had to win the war to become the true victor.

  The younglings were almost all nearly wiped out, but they had taken down a great number of opponents as well.

  Efrion and Landel were handling themselves quite well for now. He observed the battle-field before taking any course of action, and was taken aback when he discovered Harwin in the worst possible position ever.....