The air crackled with the hum of demonic energy. The ground swarming with wriggling maggots. Khao’khen knew that if the situation continues, he would lose many of his warriors. He had to find a way to deal with the Infested Ones or else everything that they have achieved would bee negated.

“Fall back,” he commanded, his words sharp as obsidian shards. “We will regroup outside the inner walls.”

His words, though calm, were a weight of granite upon the hearts of his warriors. They had come to this city with fire in their hearts and a thirst for glory, but the enemy that they were currently up against, was something they had no idea how to deal with, at the moment.

“But chieftain,” a warrior, his face streaked with grime and blood, spoke, his voice clear and loud. “They offer a great fight.”

Khao’khen’s eyes were like pools of ice, reflecting the frigid, unearthly gleam of the enemy. He saw the determination in his men’s eyes, the flicker of excitement amidst their faces.

He knew they always craved a great battle, glorious fight, a fight against insurmountable odds, in order for them to experience fully the real thrill. But to stand and fight now would be folly, an act which would certainly decimate their numbers.

“Our enemy is unlike any we have faced,” he replied, his voice low, the tremor of the wall beneath their feet echoing his words. “They fight weirdly, you have experienced it yourselves. Their is no honor or glory to be earned from foes like them. They just stand there and throw those disgusting worms at us.”

The warrior, his face etched with a mixture of fear and defiance, swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “But chieftain, this is one of those rare great fights. We can’t miss it, and who knows when another one like it would come.”

The other orcs who were close by nodded their heads in agreement. Such a chance was hard to come by.

Luckily, Arka’garr and many of the leading figures of the warbands were busy finding ways to deal with their enemies at the forefront. If they had heard the words of the orc and the others agreeing to his words, a severe beatdown would have ensued.

Challenging the words and will of the chieftain was a crime for them. In their eyes, Khao’khen as the chieftain, is the strongest, and the strongest warrior should always be followed.

Khao’khen shook his head, “Don’t you worry about the matter of great fights, many more would come your way,” he said, his voice calm, and his voice was filled with certainty.

“Fall back, warriors,” he repeated, his voice ringing out, his tone firm yet gentle.

As the warriors, their faces filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination, began to withdraw, Khao’khen turned his attention towards some runners.

“Inform the other warbands,” he commanded. “To pull back from the battle. Send word to Zaraki, tell him to get his people out as soon as possible.”

His voice, though still firm, held a thread of worry. Their current foes were something that was a bit of a challenge.

The messengers, their faces etched with the seriousness of the task, vanished into the swirling dust and smoke of the battle. Khao’khen watched them go, his gaze fixed upon the retreating forms of his warriors.

The retreat from the inner city was a slow and arduous process, the warriors, their steps heavy with fatigue, their faces etched with a mixture of exhaustion and irritation, struggling to maintain their order amidst the relentless pressure of the enemy.

Due to the weird constitution of their foes, the orcish horde which had been doing fairly strong against their previous foes that they had fought, found themselves on the backfoot, and were forced back.

“Force the gates close!” Khao’khen ordered. He was planning to trap their foes inside the inner walls. They have to caged them inside, lest they scatter around the ruins of the city, which would then required more work and effort for them to defeat them.

A heavy silence hung in the air, thick as the smoke from the recently extinguished embers of the nearby structures. The wooden walls riddled with gaping holes from the earlier chaos gave no much room for privacy. Khao’khen and the others had no other choice but to make use of the dilapidated building as their gathering place, it was the only lucky building near the inner walls which was still standing.

“Anyone know something about our current foes,” he asked, his voice a low rumble, echoing the discomfort in his heart. “What they are called, their other ways of attack, their weakness?” he comtinued.

He looked at those who were with him, waiting for an answer. Khao’khen hoped that someone, especially among the Ereians to have even just an inkling of an idea about their current foes.

The room was abuzz with whispered speculation, each offering their own , their own theories. But none could shed light on the true nature of their foe.

Khao’khen looked to Adhalia, his eyes filled with hope. She stood tall, her hair like a banner of defiance, but even her usually unwavering confidence was a flicker in the face of the unknown.

“I tried refreshing my memory of many texts that I have read before,” she said, her voice echoing the melancholy in his own. “But nothing speaks of such beings. The only thing that I observed from them was their unholy aura, like that of the undead creatures.”

“Unholy aura,” Faynah repeated, her voice a melodic whisper. She moved to stand beside Adhalia, her pale blue eyes reflecting the same troubled introspection. “But they are clearly oozing of demonic energy,” she was confused.

“That is not enough,” Khao’khen said, his voice firm as he regained his composure, “I don’t care if they are demon or undead.” He paused, his eyes meeting each of his people’s, his gaze holding theirs. “We have to find a way to deal with them.”

“But first,” Khao’khen continued, his voice gaining its strength, “we must understand them. We must unravel their weakness.”

“I think we can be of some help.” a soft feminine voice echoed out from the roof of the building.

“Who’s there?” roared Sakh’arran, his voice echoing through the empty hall, bouncing off the dust-laden rafters. His gaze, sharp and wary, darted towards the gaping hole in the roof, the source of the unfamiliar voice.

Faynah, her heart pounding against her ribs, gripped the hilt of her dagger. Her gaze followed the orcs’s, her eyes widening in disbelief as the words “We don’t mean no harm” drifted down. It was as if the voice had sprung from the very walls themselves, a spectral whisper echoing through the silence.

Dhug’mhar, his broad shoulders hunched in suspicion, muttered a curse under his breath. “How did they get in?” he growled, his voice thick with distrust.

“Elves!” Hekoth whispered, the word tasting like ash on his tongue. He recoiled, his face contorting in disgust.

“Correction! We are dark elves! Not elves. Learn to distinguish others from those high and mighty scoundrels.” The voice, now tinged with a hint of annoyance, came from the hole in the roof.

Gunn, his face hardening, spat, “Elves or dark elves, you’re still a pointy-eared bastard.”

A moment of silence descended, punctuated only by the howling wind outside. Then, the soft feminine voice broke the stillness. “We came here to provide aid,” it said, a gentle plea resonating through the building, “not to have an exchange of heated words.”

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Khao’khen raised his hand, silencing Gunn’s retort. “What kind of aid?” his voice, when he spoke, was calm, though his heart still thumped against his ribs, due to uncertainty.

“We know of the identity of your current foes. We are very familiar with them.” the soft feminine voice came once again.

“How can we make sure that whatever information that you provide about our foes is the truth and the not just made up lies?” Khao’khen answered, his eyes still scanning the roof, trying to find the source of the voice.

“To show you our sincerity and willingness to cooperate,” a figure came down from the beams supporting the roof. A beautiful woman, with a pretty alluring face and a smoking body showed up, accompanying her was another beauty, with a very unfriendly look etched on her face.

This was the very first time that Khao’khen had an encounter with dark elves, he had already encountered elves when he first came to this world, and it was not a pleasant encounter.

Just like Gunn had said, the dark elves were pretty much still a ‘pointy-eared’ just like the elves. The only difference is that, they have a dark skin almost very the same with the Ereians, unlike the fair skinned elves that he had encountered before.

The orcs inside the room were just waiting for the chieftain’s words and they would take out the uninvited guests swiftly.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep