Nyzen's mind was in turmoil as he cursed under his breath, "Damn! How did we miss their ambush? We were so careless and let our guard down. I wonder how they knew we were out to hunt?" As a part of their tradition, the Dark Elves embarked on a hunting expedition for the entire village, with only a handful of guards and the village chief staying behind. This tradition held great significance to their people, and in the excitement of the moment, Nyzen and his fellow Dark Elves failed to realize the impending threat of the Orcs' ambush. 'Those bastards, they killed Lyron…' Nyzen's grip tightened on his bow as the sounds of battle became more pronounced. War cries and screams could be heard, yet he couldn't help but think back; his memories and reality melding together.
…
Thick towering trees stood tall in the sky, and the smell of fresh morning dew wafted about, throughout the air. Beautiful flowers and dense foliage lay around, obscuring visibility. Bushes shuffled and sticks snapped as the figures of three people came out into a small clearing in the Sword Forest.
"Whew, that little bastard almost got away from me." The shorter of the three Dark Elves, with medium-length silver hair, sighed as he squatted. In his hands lay a dead rabbit. Blood leaking from a hole in its neck, the mark of an arrow. "Good shot, Lyron; your aim has improved in recent times." Nyzen, who stood as one of the three Dark Elves, commended as the third and last Dark Elf, Fellian nodded and said, "Indeed, your Techniques have also improved; have you perhaps broken through?" He asked with an inquisitive expression, doubting his own words. Flexing his arms as his robust figure revealed. "I have not, yet I've come close. My skills are even catching up to yours, Nyzen." Lyron smirked as he stood, tying the rabbit to his leather belt. Both Nyzen and Fellian broke out into a burst of chuckles as Fellian hooked his arm around Nyzen, leaning forward as he said, "Hahh, that's funny, my friend, but both you and I know that it would take three ages before we could reach this bastards level." Fellian patted Nyzen's shoulder as both he and Lyron looked at one another. One thing that was undeniable about their friend was that his talent in the bow and capacity for Techniques stood as the best of all the men in the village.
"Yes, yes, I'm blessed; now let's get a move on; the others have probably doubled our game." Nyzen ushered with annoyance, his hand gesturing towards their rather meager results. He had heard this semi-envy semi-praise from his friends before and merely wished to make haste so as not to fall behind in the hunt. The other two Dark Eleven men agreed as they deftly made their way through the forest.
Thick, thorny bushes picked at them as they passed by. The surrounding scenery changed quickly as the experienced trio skillfully ran through the forest in search of game. The three came to a halt as Lyron raised his head and gestured. Just up ahead, no further than ten metres out, led into a clearing. A creek flowed down southward as Lyron pointed ahead. There, standing in the creek, amongst the unkempt foliage, a large Hoarmon stood. It meticulously searched for food. Its beady eyes scanning the creek. Its thick legs were unmoving under the water's pressure as its dense, dark green fur swayed with the gentle wind. Suddenly, a glint flashed across its eyes as it swiped down at the water with a roar. Thoom! The muddy water rippled, and the Hoarmon's long, pointed ears flapped as it caught a fish. The fish ferociously wriggled in the Hoarmon's large maw, struggling fruitlessly to break free.
Lyron smiled at this scene as he turned to Nyzen and Fellian. "It looks like we've caught two birds with one stone," Nyzen nodded and replied, "Indeed. We're only in the emerald zone, yet we've found a Hoarmon, an amber zone magical beast, and a populated creek." The Dark Elves had long devised divisions in the Sword Forest within their territory as a means of safety. In the emerald layer of the Dark Elven territory, no strong or large magic beasts could be found, meaning that one would have to travel into the amber layer for any significant game. Yet, the trio was lucky enough to come across an amber-layer magic beast within the emerald layer. As well as a creek that had yet to be encountered by other Dark Elves.
Both Nyzen and Fellian sneaked forth to Lyron, careful not to make noise. The Hoarmon viciously tore apart the fish, blood seeping into the muddy creek as it devoured the fish quickly. Nyzen sucked in a breath of air as he looked to Lyron, who looked to Fellian. They gave one another an affirmative nod as dark, void of light runes manifested on their bodies. The Hoarmon raised its head, looking in the trio's direction as it felt a disturbance in the energy of the atmosphere; it snout, sniffing in their direction as it faced them. Swords of darkness, unrefined and somewhat flimsy, condensed in Lyron and Fellian's hands as the Hoarmon roared, charging forth as the two revealed themselves, stepping out of the treeline. "Haha, this big bastard is terrifying!" Fellian yelled as his muscles bulged. The Hoarmon reached him quickly as he slashed down with his sword, which was larger than Lyron's, at the Hoarmon's head. The Hoarmon didn't back down as it slung its front paw forth in retaliation. Bang! A loud clash sounded as Fellian's sword rippled, the darkness within becoming less potent. Lyron took the opening and dashed towards the Hoarmon. Dark Runes shone with radiance as his sword arced across the Hoarmon's abdomen. Rah! The Hoarmon roared as blood unceasingly poured from its stomach. It turned to Lyron, eyes cold, as it slashed forward.
Reacting quickly, Lyron guarded with his sword, but the Hoarmon was too strong, as the pressure of the paw shattered the sword; the strength behind the swipe pushed Lyron back, causing him to fall and slam to the ground. Fellian quickly jumped in, his long sword slashing at Hoarmon's head. The blade sliced through the air as the Hoarmon backed stepped, just barely dodging the blade. For a moment, the three just stood there, looking at one another in both exhaustion and stalemate.
"True Shot," Nyzen, who had long been observing the fight, muttered. Dark Runes illuminated him as a bow of Darkness, more refined in comparison to Lyron and Fellian's swords, was pulled back in his hands. Its energy string threatened to release as the wind surged. An arrow condensed from rapidly moving wind appeared in the drawn bow; it looked like a tornado was trapped in small tangible arrow as it struggled to be freed. Nyzen released the string; the perfect moment in the fight had arrived. Swoosh! The air surged and compressed as the arrow flew out. In a flash, it connected with the Hoarmon, who was about to strike Fellian. Splurt! Blood spewed everywhere as the arrow tore through the nape of the Hoarmon's neck. It collapsed with a resounding thud as its colossal figure shook the ground. Its gaze looked reluctant as it breathed its last.
"Shit… I thought I was going to die. Took you long enough, Nyzen." Fellian nervously laughed. A cold sweat covered his forehead. He was but a few seconds from being killed by that Hoarmon's strike. "Sorry, but as you know, it takes time to gather power in the True Shot Technique with my current skill." Nyzen walked from the treeline, his face a little apologetic. He felt guilty for letting Fellian and Lyron take all the head-on risks, but he was an archer after all. "Haha, it's fine. Fellian's just pulling your leg, after all; we wouldn't dare to fight this Hoarmon head on if it wasn't for your support." Lyron said. He looked quite exhausted and laughed as he patted Fellian's shoulder. To which the latter smiled. "Let's take a few; I need to catch my breath." Fellian said as he sat on a nearby rock. It was flat and large enough that he could sit cross-legged. He closed his eyes, hands on his knees, and drew sharp, calm breaths. Lyron followed suit as they sat there, while Nyzen observed the Hoarmon's corpse and the creek.
Energy seemed to return to the two as time passed. After five minutes, Fellian opened his eyes, as did Lyron. "Shall we?" Nyzen looked to both the Hoarmon's corpse, which they would drain here, and the creek, which they would gather some fish from. "Yeah," Lyron nodded as he tended to the Hoarmon. Fellian helped as he asked, "This should be enough to suffice, no?" Nyzen crouched by the creek, "Yeah. The Hoarmon with a few fish should be more than enough to return to the party." Fellian sighed in relief as he muttered, "Good," under his breath.