21

The Witcher: The last King of the elves

Chapter 21 – Era

Year 1250, in the South of the Northern Kingdoms, trade seemed to be as prosperous as it had always been, but inside the castle a very important meeting was taking place—one of great concern.

In the Kingdom of Cintra, in the Royal Palace, Queen Calanthe was reading a document with deep worry. “Mousesack, is this true?”

Mousesack, a druid deeply connected to nature, replied in a serious and concerned tone. “Something is happening beyond the North, in the dark forest from which no one has ever returned alive.”

“We cannot concern ourselves now with mere conjecture. Be honest—what troubles you?” Calanthe, already dealing with pirates and nearby kingdoms, had no time to waste on matters that did not affect her reign.

But Mousesack, as a close friend and counselor, had a special privilege.

“Well… a month ago, a group of hunters roaming the forest was ambushed by elves. A group of well-trained, well-equipped elven soldiers wiped them out entirely.”

“Did any escape?” Calanthe raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“They were all killed.” Mousesack’s voice trembled, and before Calanthe could say anything, he extended his hand and placed a green handkerchief on the marble table.

“This crest.” Calanthe stared at the sun embroidered on the green cloth and wondered where she had seen it before.

“The elven message recovered said that the Sun had been born, and that the era of the Lords of Life would take control of the world.”

Calanthe looked up and asked, “Do you know what they mean?”

“That there is a new King. Only one with the Ancient Solar blood can bear this crest, and that means someone has been born with that blood.” Mousesack thought of all the power that blood could unleash, and fear took hold of him.

Just then, a tremor shook the foundations of Cintra—no, of the entire North—making the Continent turn its gaze in a single direction.

“It can’t be…”

Calanthe walked to the balcony of her palace, and when she looked toward the direction everyone was pointing, she saw enormous columns of fire piercing the sky in fury.

“The power of a sun within the body of an elf.”

Since the fall of the elves, no King with Ancient Blood had been able to change the fate of their race, and that era—believed by many to be over—was about to change.

In the distance, those columns of fire that seemed to consume everything remained ablaze for a long time.

“Prepare the war council. We need to discuss this seriously with our neighbors.” If Calanthe believed there was even the slightest chance of the elves rising again, then she had to treat the matter with utmost seriousness.

…

The Fallen Elven Kingdom, hours after winning the war.

“A new day!” Thranduil stood before the Tree of Life and watched as it gave birth to his new warriors.

Without hesitation, he used every single one of his energy crystals to train them.

First, he spent nearly 15,000 magical crystals to increase the number of mages in his army.

Next came the hunters, whose numbers grew to five hundred, consuming nearly twenty thousand magical crystals. The remaining crystals were used to train elven archers and swordsmen, maintaining a ratio of three to two.

In total, this time he trained more than five thousand soldiers.

At this point, the total size of the elven army under his command exceeded forty thousand. And with his reserve troops on their way to this location, their numbers easily reached one hundred thousand.

…

Some time later, in the enormous square that had been cleared, dense formations appeared, accompanied by golden light.

There were elven hunters mounted on the magical beast known as the Mountain Leopard, elegant elven mages, and a large number of fully armed elven swordsmen and archers.

Each of them was as beautiful as a flower and as heroic as a valiant warrior.

Among them were some resurrected elves.

The prior experience of dying in battle had not affected them—on the contrary, the way they now looked at Thranduil was filled with even greater fanaticism and admiration.

After death, the slain elves had been resurrected.

Was this not another kind of eternal life?

“As expected, His Majesty the Great Elven King is omnipotent.”

“All hail His Majesty!”

All the elves knelt before Thranduil. Their voices were excited and sharp, as if piercing through the darkness.

“Rise!” Thranduil raised his hand slightly. Looking at the delicate, beautiful faces before him, the smile on his own grew brighter.

If all went well, with another hunting wave during the day, the things he could achieve would be limitless.

By then, the size of his elven army would surpass that of the humans.

“The mission to patrol the territory is now in your hands. We have just fought a great battle, so there should not be many undead nearby, but we must still remain cautious. If we encounter any, eliminate them immediately.”

“Nothing and no one must touch our forest—we will make that clear to the world.”

“Always remember to use the hawks to monitor any unusual movements around you.”

“As you command, Your Majesty the Elven King!”

All the elves answered in unison.

Soon, more than a thousand elves formed into groups and headed toward the ruins outside the square. Having just received training and being in peak condition, simple patrol missions could not possibly satisfy them.

They wanted to kill more enemies and raise their own levels.

Only in this way could they better serve His Majesty the Elven King.