After the battle had just begun, Landel had been confronted by one of the demon leaders while trying to help the battle-commander, Farelen.

  The demon rode a war-hog — a hog equivalent to the size of a horse of the older world whilst having thick muscular frame, and possessing great horns on its forehead. It was something that could be mistaken for being pulled right out of hell.

  The demon riding it was much smaller in size, even if he was to be compared to a human, however, he had a burly build with an abnormally large torso. He was wielding a great glaive that was much greater in length than himself.

  "I am Erthril. I have killed puny beings such as yourself all my life. Do not resist, and I shall give you a clean and easy death." He spoke in the human tongue, but his opponent was not familiar with it.

  Landel just stood there with his sword drawn out. It angered the short-tempered demon who charged towards him on his war-hog. The force of the impact could have destroyed anything and everything in its path yet—

  Landel simply leaped over the charging enemy and landed gracefully. It was much easier for him to achieve great height, due to his lean physique and smaller stature compared to Farelen. His opponent was left dumbfounded, and embarrassed for being toyed with.

  “YOU PUNY ELF! FIGHT ME HEAD ON! DO NOT JUMP LIKE ANIMALS, FIGHT LIKE A WARRIOR IF YOU OUGHT TO BE ONE!”

  Landel, not having understood one bit, simply ignored his opponent.

  Erthril did not just give up just yet. He charged once again — he wielded his trusty glaive like a pike this time.

  As soon as Landel tried to jump over once again — the demon lifted up the glaive to strike down his opponent who was still in mid-air, but Landel simply deflected the attack, and landed on the other side without a single graze.

  It was already quite embarrassing for Erthril as his charge was dodged twice, yet his opponent further humiliated him by sheathing his sword, and standing rather laid back.

  The demon knew that he was not being taken seriously which made him furious. Now again, without a second of delay, he charged, but this time his opponent did not follow the same routine....

  Landel took a stance for the first time during the entirety of the battle, then placed his hand on the hilt of his sword — waiting for the opponent to close the distance much more. As soon as the demon was close enough, Landel leapt forward at a speed much greater than humanly possible — one would have missed him it, if they were to blink.

  The war-hog’s head was separated from its body while Landel was on the opposite side with his sword still in hand — hardly exasperated.

  The demon had been thrown off his dead ride, and rolled into dirt. The arrogant, proud Erthril was covered in dirt, but quickly got up — still taking in as to what had just occurred.

  His opponent stood there with a smug, satisfied expression — adding salt to the injuries.

  Erthril threw away his glaive, and drew a giant war-axe which was scabbed to his back. — it was about the same size as his being. Infact, the size and the weight was too absurd for anyone of his stature to wield it, but the demon held it in one hand with ease due to his abnormally large torso, which provided him with great strength and might.

  Landel stood in wait as his opponent was getting ready. As a young man and a celebrated prodigy, he was very cocky and confident in his abilities. The young lad would not attack his enemies, even if they left themselves open to his attacks. It did work in a way — making the opponent nervous and their morale plunged.

  The hell-spawn ran towards Landel. He swung his axe left and right infused with rage. He was a skilled warrior, much closer to the skill of the demon who had killed Fitz, but his opponent was just simply overwhelming. Landel continued to play around with Erthril, casually dodging and deflecting all the attacks — not even taking the opportunities to counter.

  The demon took back a few steps, but his opponent did not follow. Erthril was almost at his wits endand his anger was now at its peak. None the less, not a single one of his attacks connected, no matter what he threw at the prodigy, it did not work — it was as if a novice sparring against his master for the first time.

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  Strength and endurance was something the demon race were not short of, so he kept on swinging as he just needed one opening — one window of opportunity to strike down this person. The strategy was simple, tire down his opponent, but then a voice called upon the young elf:

  “LANDEL, QUIT PLAYING AROUND! DEFEAT THAT SCOUNDREL AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE AND THEN HELP YOUR COMRADES!” Farelen, ordered Landel — clearly piqued.

  Landel upon hearing the newly issued orders firmly gripped his sword, and then swung it only once. The demon tried to block the strike with his giant axe, but the wooden-handle was swiftly cut through as well. The axe was split in two, whilst the head of the demonic leader laid on the ground.

  The battle was over before it had even begun. Landel had proved himself worthy of being called the possible successor of Graftel “the sword-saint” and the title of “prodigy". The lad then joined with the rest of his comrades — taking down the enemies as quickly as possible.

  Harwin was facing against two of the soldiers. They were almost evenly matched against him — mainly due to the difference in their equipment, and the willingness to kill.

  Harwin was hesitant to kill at first, but once he saw how hard his comrades were fighting and were putting their lives at risk, he too decided to fight till death.

  The rowdy soldiers, of-course, did not wait for him to gather his resolve and simply struck at him at the same time. Their equipment was top-notch, yes, but their skill was not as great as the student of the prodigy as well as the sword-saint.

  Harwin was able to dodge the strikes narrowly, and even kicked one of the soldiers in the knee, which made him fall to the ground.

  He was not able to finish off the fallen scoundrel before the other soldier striked at him once more. The soldier's movements were unnatural and unorthodox, making them difficult to be predicted, but Harwin was able to deflect them. Soon, the other one joined again, but it was noticed by Harwin that the two could hardly work together, rather they disrupted each-other's technique quite frequently.

  Harwin took back a few steps. He took a quick-stance. Of?course, his opponents followed? but they had took it for a retreat which costed them dearly—

  Harwin slashed forward with great precision. He was able to connect his strike, but did not deliver a lethal blow. He only cut off the arm of one of the soldiers who fell to the ground — clearly in great agony thus unable to move.

  The other enemy, though was scared now, but still did not give in as he saw that his opponent was rather exhausted. He slashed and slashed in sequence, pushing back the already tired Harwin who was only narrowly dodging the strikes now.

  This continued for a while. Harwin now had been grazed and scratched a few times without countering even once, so now the soldier had become over-confident and careless. He decided for the final blow — raising his sword to the head for the slightest of moments....

  This was, however, a foolish mistake as sensing the opportunity, his opponent took a quick-stance once again. Right before the sword could have been brought down, Harwin had already stabbed the soldier in the heart. The soldier immediately laid dead.

  Before he could take out the next enemy, the mere sight of the dead soldier made him barf. It was his second kill, but the sight was still too much for him to bear. The emotions that welled up inside him were enough to make him fall to his knees. At that crucial moment, he saw a large enemy soldier swinging an axe right at him. His eyes were filled with fear of death and helplessness — the same feeling he had experienced whilst being stabbed by the young punks in his older world.

  The last thing that Harwin remembered was seeing a giant axe coming right at him...

  The axe-man managed to cut off the left arm his opponent while Harwin now had lost consciousness due to the pain and sudden blood loss. With eyelids closed, he felt a similar sensation — the feeling of death lingering around him.

  He did not wake up during the rest of the battle, but by the help of Alisa who was able to cast a quick wind spell called 'wind arrow', the soldier was not able to finish the job. It also stalled him enough for Farelen to arrive at the scene. He grabbed the scoundrel's head, and tore it apart from his body.

  As for the rest of the battlefield, almost all the enemies had been defeated, killed or ran away while the leaders of the enemy forces were taken care of by the Farelen and Landel.

  The losses this time were far greater than that of the ‘battle of the authority’. From the younglings brought along, only one remained who was wounded, yet tried his best to help around in finding anyone else still alive. Efrion was in perfect health, though was covered in blood stains. The captains chosen by Graftel were equivalent to hundreds of warriors each, thus such a force was hardly a challenge for them.

  It was in the evening that everything had concluded. Almost all the enemies were killed with the exception of the demon leader who was not even able to move and was tied. No other prisoners were taken due to the shortage of men, which would have made it difficult for them to be guarded.

  Harwin was being taken care of by Alisa, who herself was also exhausted due to the advanced level spell she had casted at the start of the battle. None the less, she casted as many healing spells as she could manage without fainting. The young mage was able stop the bleeding of Harwin.

  Even though the bleeding had stopped, Harwin had not come to his senses. The blood-loss was far too great for now, and Alisa knew that he was in a critical condition.....

  What will be the fate of Harwin? Will the lad ever be able to recover from the wounds?