"I'm Head Knight of the Elven Kingdom. Elvis." The elf's voice was smooth, cold, and laced with malice. He stepped forward with a wicked smile stretching across his face, his long silver hair tied in a warrior's knot. The forest behind him was still, unnaturally so.
Rowan didn't wait for pleasantries. He stepped ahead, wand in hand, and spoke with sharp precision.
"You draw blades and aim arrows at us, and now you introduce yourself?" His voice was calm, but firm.
Elvis tilted his head mockingly. "Oh? Royalty, are you?" His eyes sparkled. "I serve a king too. And he's issued your executions."
He grinned wider. "That makes us equals… doesn't it?"
Suddenly, his mana flared—a cruel, suffocating pressure that settled across the battlefield. Even the wind seemed to stop. Several of the younger mages behind Rowan and Ymir gasped from the weight of it.
Rowan's eyes narrowed. "Shields. Now."
Without a word, both groups—Rowan's nobles and Ymir's mixed band—lifted their wands and staffs in unison. A wave of light formed above them, expanding into a dome-shaped mana shield that shimmered in hues of blue and gold.
Elvis raised a hand.
"Rain down," he said.
A whistle. A rush. Then—
THWACK THWACK THWACK!
Arrows rained down like a thunderstorm. Some ignited midair, others shimmered with poison, and a few carried thunder runes that exploded on contact with the shield. The mana dome cracked, lines spiderwebbing across its surface.
"Strengthen it!" someone yelled.
"I can't—!" came another voice. "It's too strong!"
Then—
CRAAASH!
The shield shattered, exploding into shimmering fragments.
Rowan didn't hesitate.
"CHARGE!"
The humans surged forward, magic and spells exploding around them. Flames roared, water surged, ice formed barriers, and lightning laced through the trees. The elves met them head-on with their own deadly grace—fast, fluid, and cruel.
Ymir dodged under a leaping elf's blade and blasted a fireball at another one's chest.
"Careful! They're fast!" she shouted.
Florence spun midair, casting a sweeping arc of wind blades that knocked two enemies back. "That's what makes this fun!"
Alexia shielded a fallen mage, then countered a spell with a wave of sand. "Back off, tree hugger!"
Elsewhere, Rowan and Elvis clashed fiercely.
"Hexagolia!" Rowan shouted, forming a massive hexagonal energy plate above Elvis and slamming it downward.
The elf leapt aside in a blur. "Too slow."
Elvis closed in, blade drawn. He swung with brutal force—Rowan barely blocked it with a wall of magic.
"Phoebein!" Rowan yelled, summoning a blazing wall of flame between them.
It worked—temporarily. The flames surged and roared. Rowan exhaled, lowering his wand for a brief moment.
Suddenly, a silhouette burst from the fire.
SLASH!
A sharp blade tore across Rowan's arm. He winced and stumbled back, clutching the bleeding wound.
"Too easy," Elvis said with a smirk.
Before he could strike again, a glowing mana spear shot toward him from behind.
He turned his head slightly, caught it midair, and crushed it between his fingers.
"Persistent," he muttered.
Another five spears came soaring at him. He leapt back, dodging with elegant footwork. Ymir stepped forward, wand raised.
"Try hurting someone your own size," she said coldly.
Rowan scoffed from the ground. "I don't need your help, commoner."
Ymir glanced at him but didn't back down. "And yet here you are. Bleeding. Heal yourself quickly."
He gritted his teeth. "Tch…Don't tell me what to do." He placed his wand over the gash, and a soft blue glow surrounded it. "This'll hold for now."
Rowan stood, flexing his fingers. "At least you're not entirely useless."
"Thanks," she said dryly. "You're welcome."
Elvis watched them with gleeful eyes. "Ooooh, a Royal and a peasant teaming up. Touching."
He stepped forward, his mana pulsing violently. "Now, come entertain me."
Without waiting, Ymir extended her hand.
"Speara Vas!"
Mana spears formed rapidly around her, glowing with deep blue and white light.
"Try dodging this," she said, launching them at full force.
Rowan joined in, "Luminia Vectra!" A blinding flash of light burst around Elvis, distorting his vision.
A massive spear landed a direct hit—an explosion tore through the clearing.
BOOOOM!
Smoke and debris filled the air. The trees around them shook. Some elves fell back.
"He's done," Rowan muttered.
But as the smoke cleared, Elvis emerged—armor cracked, blood dripping from his lip, but smiling wider than ever.
"That actually hurt," he said, laughing.
Alexia stared from afar. "This guy's insane."
Florence dashed to her side. "We're running low on mana. If we don't do something soon—"
"Elves at the rear!" someone shouted. More enemies were circling around. They were being surrounded again.
Rowan and Ymir stood side by side, breathing hard.
"Next time," Rowan said, not looking at her, "don't get in my way."
"Next time," Ymir replied, "don't get slashed like an amateur."
Their eyes met—intense, competitive.
But in front of them, Elvis only clapped.
"Let's see if you can survive Round Two."