The night began with the entirety of the army being sent to bed early. With the war officially over, few questioned the lack of sentries being posted. Everyone expected a straight march back to the border, where the troops would disperse to return home to their villages. However, as darkness settled, screams pierced the silence, and infighting erupted.

  At first, many soldiers merely turned over in their beds, dismissing the sounds as another rowdy gambling session. Scuffles in the night were not uncommon, and the worst they expected was someone losing a finger over cheating. But tonight was different. The shouting only grew more violent. A coup was underway—bloody and vicious one at that.

  In tent after tent, cries echoed through the night. Elves hovered over their sleeping human and dwarven squadmates, blades glinting in the dim light as they silently slit their throats. The killings were quick and calculated—at first. Soon though, some victims stirred, grabbing weapons just in time to meet their attackers. Squads scrambled to rally, only to find half their numbers already gone.

  A human soldier looked to a dwarf and asked, “Where are the others?” Only to see the rest of their squad turning the corner with blood-soaked swords in hand.

  “Back-stabbing traitors,” the human murmured as he braced himself and charged.

  Elron, leading one of the groups, met the charging blade with ease, parrying the strike before slicing the man open from balls to brains. The dwarf beside him was quickly impaled by another elf's spear from behind. The dwarf gasped his last breath, yet tried to pull the spear out. His defiance was only met with more spears, and he turned to a pin coushion.

  “Check inside,” Elron commanded as pointed to a group of tents.

  Elron turned, entering into an adjacent tent and said, “What the hell is going on in here?!”

  Inside, an elf was cornered, fending off several others with his sword. “Stop this madness! There's no need to kill each other!” he cried out in desperation.

  Elron sheathed his sword and shoved through the crowd. He stood face to face with the trembling elf, the tip of the blade shakily pressing against his chest plate.

  “There’s every reason for this,” Elron said coldly. “Now, join us, or—”

  Before he could finish, the elf feigned lowering his sword, using the downward motion to his advantage and swiftly slashing at Elron. The prince dodged effortlessly, as if anticipating the strike, and delivered a gut-wrenching punch to the elf's abdomen. The defiant elf crumpled to the ground, his sword clattering from his grasp.

  “Take him to the hall. Tie him up,” Elron ordered, watching as his men bound the elf and dragged him away.

  Suddenly, the prince heard a woman's scream, sending a chill down his spine. Rushing out of the tent, Elron spotted the house where the sound came from. Kicking the door open, he was met with a horrific sight—several elves crowded around a naked woman pinned to a table. She screamed, writhing in terror as one of the elves forced him self upon her. The others laughed, oblivious to Elron's presence until they noticed his dark expression.

  Without a word, Elron stormed over to the offending elf. The others scattered to the edges of the room, fear gripping them. Elron grabbed the man by the throat and bent him over, reaching for his testicles with his gauntlet. “You dare call yourself an elf?” he growled before ripping the man's testicles from his body with one brutal motion.

  The elf collapsed, his scream of agony cutting through the air, silencing the woman and the room. Elron tossed the bloody remnants at one of the onlookers, hitting him square in the face. “If you're this disgraceful, you don’t deserve to reproduce—let alone commit such atrocities,” he spat.

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  The woman, seizing the opportunity, fled past Elron. He paid her no mind, staring down at the bleeding elf on the floor. His fists trembled, barely containing his rage as he looked up at the remaining half naked soldiers. “What the hell are you standing around for? Get him a healer!” he barked before storming out.

  Outside, the night was alight with torches, mobs of soldiers moving through the settlement. Shadows shifted and danced in the flames, stopping only for brief skirmishes or to receive new orders.

  Just then one of those shadows appeared behind him, and Elron spun, sword drawn, stopping just in time.

  “Whoa, edgy much?” Slyra’s smirking face materialized in the darkness.

  Elron sheathed his sword, sighing. “Apologies, it’s just one thing after another.”

  “Yeah, it's a shit show out here,” Slyra said, looking out over the camp. “Good news though, they’re almost done mopping up.”

  His expression still tense, Elron asked, “What are the numbers?”

  Kael sauntered up with a rope in hand, dragging something behind him. “A few hundred,” he said.

  “A few hundred what?!” Elron snapped.

  Kael grinned, yanking the rope hard. “A few hundred elves killed, a few hundred captured.”

  Slyra leaned in, curious. “What’s that?”

  “Oh, this?” Kael said, pulling the rope taut, causing a bound man to stumble into the mud at their feet. “This is Jenkins—my new slave.”

  Elron huffed. “Shouldn’t you be overseeing the captives?”

  Kael waved him off. “Ah, my mages have it covered. Figured I’d take my new pet for a midnight stroll.”

  Slyra crouched down, observing the man struggling to his feet. She glanced up at Elron. “Do we really need slaves? Can’t we just kill them and be done with it?”

  Still fixated on the camp below, Elron answered flatly, “I don’t like it either, but killing them outright serves no purpose.”

  Slyra shrugged. “As long as I don’t have to own one, I guess I don’t care.”

  Kael, yanking Jenkins by the rope, asked, “How many slaves can we own, oh glorious leader?”

  Distracted, Elron muttered, “Huh? I don’t know. You figure that out,” before running off toward another fight.

  Elron's sword blazed as he charged through the camp. He passed soldiers hauling bodies onto pyres, elves cheering and drinking, and slaves being corralled into chains. His destination soon came into view—a building surrounded by his troops.

  “What’s happening here?” he asked the first soldier he recognized.

  Maris turned, her expression grim. “The last of the resistance is holed up inside.”

  “How many?”

  “Maybe fifty. Mostly humans,” Maris replied, as arrows whizzed through the windows.

  Elron cast a shield spell just in time to deflect an incoming arrow. “Any elves inside?”

  “Some, my lord,” she confirmed.

  He stared at the building, deep in thought.

  Maris spoke up again, “If we kill everyone inside, many might turn against you.”

  “I know...” Elron muttered, arms crossed.

  Suddenly, a white flag appeared in one of the windows.

  “We want terms!” a voice shouted.

  Elron stepped forward, yelling back, “Then come out!”

  An ascended human emerged, his aura dense with power. “We wish to die like men.”

  Elron nodded firmly. “Understood. Anything else?”

  The man hesitated. “Some of the women don’t want to die.”

  Elron’s face darkened. “Someone will take them. Their fate may be grim.”

  The man stepped closer. “Then you take them. I know they’ll be safe with you, Sir Beastbane.”

  Elron straightened. “If that’s your dying wish, I’ll honor it.”

  “It was a pleasure serving,” the man said, shaking Elron’s hand before retreating into the house.

  Three unarmed women ran out, cowering behind Elron as he moved back behind the ranks. Maris watched him closely until he nodded. She raised her hand, signaling the mages.

  Elron rested his hand on Maris’s shoulder, giving it a firm pat before walking away. As his mages released their fireballs, they screamed through the air, obliterating the house in a fiery explosion. When the flames died down, not a trace of the building—or its occupants—remained.