"Take him away; I do not wish the baby to see bloodshed," Thomas said as he passed the baby towards Ahri. Young Axel was always with his mother, except when there was a battle to be watched.
After returning, Thomas spent a day with his brother before they had to part ways. Louis had to prepare for another defence, as the enemies were relentlessly trying to gain more and more ground. Valtherion was successful with his endeavours; however, the war had just begun, and the Eastern Front was more than just the Garcia and Mograine territories.
Thomas was sitting next to his sister-in-law, who seemed to be tense with each passing second. After all, the battle would soon begin. Juliet was there, dealing with papers, yet her eyes had not left the screen for even a second. After coming here, she felt very welcomed by Morgana and Ahri, and after the cat was out of the bag - the marriage- Louis did not permit her to wander off alone. She was to help the county from the backlines. Most of her time was spent with Morgana, as both were businesswomen and together, they reached far better results than ever. She would've rathered that her business partner was her future mother-in-law instead of her son.
Valtherion had arrived days before the horde and set multiple traps around the canyon. His enemies were advancing in great numbers, albeit they did something that no one expected them to. They had begun to set up their camp inside the canyon.
Their white armour seemed to clatter all around the camps they were setting up, slow and steady. It seemed like they were tired, as they were trying to arrive as soon as possible and relieve the siege of Julian Garcia, who would soon conquer the city of Maloria if he wasn't stopped. The army was exhausted, which was even better news. Valtherion was grinning as he stood at the entrance, hidden by the forest, his archers waiting for the signal.
"Brandon, is everything in place? The infantry on the other end?" Valtherion asked as he looked at the enemy through the lenses. They had been supposed to attack earlier; however, as the signal had not come, no moves were made. It made him proud that his commanders on the other sides observed and thought along with him, waiting for his call.
"Sound the signal; we are charging. They are disarming their armour, setting up their camps. We will be found out if we wait more. Men! Tonight, we cement our legacy!"
'Vooooooooooooooooooooooo'
A loud horn was heard, startling the hordes as they began looking around for the source of the sound. They were looking towards their commanders, who seemed just as clueless as they were.
Swishing sounds were heard as arrows started raining one after another. The ground trembled as massive rocks began to fall. Their camp, for their size, was narrow, especially in the canyon, maximising the fatality of each calamity coming upon them.
"Charge! Infantry!" Viscount Terrance and Baron Linley led the infantry charge from behind, as soon as 30,000 soldiers rushed into the canyon. Opposite them was Valtherion and the 10,000-strong cavalry, with 25,000 infantry following behind them. The remaining soldiers on top of the canyon were archers who kept raining arrows and rocks on the centre of the camp. They would only stop when their commanders said so.
"Grag! Get in formations! Put back your armo-" An elf was giving commands; however, he was interrupted as an arrow found itself stuck in his neck.
Valtherion's cavalry was tearing through everything, while the infantry was wrapping things behind them. It had taken them no less than half an hour to arrive in the centre of the camp; they could already see their allies pushing the enemy back, as they had assumed a phalanx formation.
The situation of the orcs was desperate as they tried to escape the forest of spears; some even managed to do it, only to reach the second line of the melee infantry and be cut down.
"Stop! We surrender! We Surrender!" the elf who led them finally revealed himself as he stood on a worg, waving a white flag. He was surrounded by experts who were protecting his sides. The elf was taking a bath, apparently, as his armour was clumsily put on while his hair was still wet.
The enemies, by all means, should have stopped their slaughter; however, they kept advancing, no matter what. Suddenly, a white light flew through the air at high speed, finding its place right in the chest of the Dark Elf.
Dain stood atop a large rock, heaving breath after breath. He had marked the enemy leader and decided to send him a gift. It was just at this moment that Valtherion collided with the elven experts and their orc subordinates.
This army had far more experts than Valtherion's Mograine army; however, they had been split across various points of the camp. One by one, they had been run down or shot down, creating a situation that was now favourable for the humans.
Fire was rising from the camp, as a few elves were put on their knees one by one in front of Valtherion and his commanding staff.
"Spare us, please!" an elf begged as he struggled in the hands of a soldier. He had been tied, limbs broken and disarmed.
"I will have to ask what my wife thinks about this...let me see...no...you are all sentenced to death. Greet you, Dark God from us!" Valtherion's hand moved in a swift motion as he slammed a short axe into the elf's head.
Despite the racial war, it was uncommon for there to be no hostages; however, this army was different; nothing was spared under Valtherion's orders. Many questioned him as to why; however, even he had no reason. If anything, he preferred it if the hordes were afraid of or hated him to his guts. Let them chase, affected by hate; let them retreat from his borders in fear of his cruelty.
The remaining elves were interrogated one by one for any kind of intel before they were killed off. Their camp was looted; everything that could not be eaten, drunk, or spent was destroyed or killed. The Artemis Canyon was a burial ground, a bloodbath, and this is how it would go in history.
Valtherion was now sitting on a log of wood, drinking wine as blood poured from his armour. He did not wish to be bothered; his commands were given, all he needed was a bit of rest. The army would have to move.
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Thomas was watching proudly, with the now calm Morgana and Ahri, while Juliet was sweating but was also blushing under the jokes of Uncle Thomas. Valtherion's words...they were funny. He thought that he did not have a wife, yet here at home, she was waiting for him, assisting him in the backline.