Chapter 17: The Elves of Eshe
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A deafening crack echoes throughout a highly decorated throne room. The dozen or so people flinch as the smell of black powder reaches their nostrils. The smoke dissipates from the origin of the noise where an imposing man stands. Someone on their knees a few meters in front of him has a splotch of blood on their chest. A gunshot has torn through, leaving them in shock at what transpired.

An elf has just been executed in front of everyone. The middle-aged man who holds an engraved and decorated flintlock pistol is Callias Corvus, the Emperor of the Venesian Empire.

“Clean it up,” Corvus calmly orders.

As several people approach to take away the corpse of the elf, Emperor Corvus and two others leave the throne room. Within the Imperial Palace in the massive capital city of Ventium, the Imperial Council races to address the apparent failure of their military.

An incredible frustration infests the upper echelon of the Venesian Empire. Though the war in the ‘new world’ has been making progress, it is still deemed an embarrassment. The once thought primitive elves have proven themselves to be far more formidable than anyone could have predicted.

Their weapons are seemingly stolen and used against them, assassins have continuously been dismantling command structures, and suspected security breaches have exposed their war tactics and strategies. All this accumulated to a near deadlock on the front lines. The Imperial Army advances at a snail’s pace. After a series of investigations, the Empire is left stumped at how the inferior elves can inflict so much damage.

Over two hundred thousand Imperial Troops are in south Weslec attempting to subjugate the local populations. The Venesians outnumber the elven warriors, and by all means, the war should have been quick.

Though the initial invasion targeted the Grand Duchy of Eshe, Venesia intends the war to flow straight into neighboring countries. Their priority is to first topple the elf nations before forcing the humans into submission.

By sheer attrition, the Venesians eventually succeeded in gaining their first significant success in the war. While most of the Eshe army was scattered, a large assault force was hastily created, which made its way to strike a decisive blow to the Grand Duchy of Eshe. The assault force was like a spearhead aimed at Eshe’s heart with the total weight of the Imperial Army behind it. Fethalean, the capital city of the Grand Duchy, was mercilessly sieged for days as the defenders fought until their last breath.

Try as they might, the elf defenders were slaughtered before nearby reinforcements could arrive to help. The city walls were breached, and the city fell. To make matters worse, the Grand Duke and his family were captured by the Imperial Army and were forced to submit. The Grand Duchy of Eshe formally surrendered, and the Venesian Empire installed a new government.

The Venesian commanders believed that the fall of Eshe was a sign that the war was finally going their way. Unfortunately for them, they were wrong. Resistance groups sprung up to continue the fight, and the frontline has only shifted.

After the fall of Eshe, the next target is the Republic of Naritlume, which has already been directly engaging with the Imperial Army alongside the Eshe army. But the issues persist—war plan leaks, assassinations, and stolen weapons.

The Emperor is understandably furious that the Imperial Army continues to be harassed by an invisible force. Efforts to interrogate and torture prisoners are pursued to determine how their invasion force is so vulnerable. The elf that has just been executed is one such prisoner, but all he gave the Emperor are worthless rumors. Rumors of mysterious unknown warriors who call themselves ‘Green Berets’.

Emperor Corvus enters a small room that looks like a war room with a map on a table. Along with him are two others: General Hadrianus and Cardinal Artamo.

“Has the worthless Grand Duke says anything?” Corvus asks the General.

“Nay, least nothing useful. When asked, all he said is that his army randomly finds stashed weapons. He claims no knowledge of how they knew our military’s movements or how our field commanders are assassinated.”

Emperor Corvus smashes his fist on the table in anger. “I don’t believe it for a second,” Corvus hisses. “Lock him in his own dungeon. Make him suffer like the scum he is. Inferiors like him don’t deserve a painless end.”

“Your Imperial Majesty, I would like to bring up the Church’s involvement with your alliance.”

Emperor Corvus turns to listen to Cardinal Artamo, who has decided to meet with the Emperor to address the war.

Artamo is a Cardinal within the Arcanic Church, believed to be the largest and most powerful entity in the world. The Church dominates the western half of the Salain continent, where it reigns supreme and is headquartered in the Malitian Theocracy. Malitia itself is run by the Church’s clergy and is deemed the holy land where the most devoted followers reside.

The religion that Venesia and the rest of the Vilbium continent belong to is Aliticism. Aliticism is, in fact, a sanctioned branch of the Arcanic Church which means that the Church’s influence firmly grips almost half of the eastern hemisphere. It no doubt holds tremendous power. So much so that the Venesian Emperor himself is traditionally approved and blessed by the papacy before claiming the title of Emperor.

“The Church’s help would surely be invaluable, but in what ways?” Corvus asks.

“Considering that your war is a war of conquest, Holy Law prevents the Church from dispatching the Holy Knights to fight alongside the empire.”

The Emperor’s face twitches. He despises that the Church is so lenient with elves. The primary difference between the Arcanic Church and Aliticism is that Aliticism advocates for human supremacy. Elves and dwarves are deemed inferior beings, and Emperor Corvus strongly subscribes to that idea.

“However,” Artamo continues, “the Malitian Theocracy isn’t strictly bound by Holy Law and can therefore commit direct military aid. That is if you admit it into the alliance.”

“In that case, I humbly welcome the Malitian Theocracy as the newest member in the Alitic Alliance.”

When the Grand Duchy of Eshe fell, the Emperor decided to reinforce war efforts in any way possible. The Venesian Empire is so far able to prevent other nations from venturing west, but the pressure would soon be too much to handle. Before other countries can travel to and colonize the new world, Corvus intends to conquer as much as he can, only to leave scraps and crumbs for the rest.

What resulted was the creation of the Alitic Alliance, an alliance of several nations aligned with the Venesian Empire. Among them are the Kingdom of Vintia, Casian Principality, and even the Leruntian Empire, which is one of the Great Powers. And now, the newest member is the Malitian Theocracy directly supported by the Arcanic Church.

It is an unbelievably impressive international alliance not seen in the recent past. Two of the five Great Powers would themselves be an unstoppable force, and now that the Arcanic Church joins the fight, Corvus has no doubt that they would succeed in conquering the new world.

“That brings us to what the Church would like to gain in this war. Surely you recognize the difference in our beliefs.”

“What we want is to spread the word of god, of course. To save the lost souls and set them on a path to enlightenment.”

Cardinal Artamo speaks with passion, but both Corvus and Hadrianus can sense that he has hidden feelings as well.

“We won’t take part in the enslavement of the elves. Instead, our focus is to spread the word of god to the human kingdoms. Just know that any ‘inferior’ that escapes your grasp and reaches our lands will be given a chance at enlightenment.”

“That is acceptable,” Corvus says, not seeing any other choice. “Now, concerning what that bastard elf said. The foreign warriors.”

Corvus turns to General Hadrianus to question the information gathered from interrogated prisoners. Recently, they have been uncovering countless rumors that become increasingly worrisome the more they investigate them.

Investigations at first uncovered a strange contradiction by the elves themselves. The most dangerous elves are those who use the Empire’s own firearms against them, but it was quickly found that these elves are a minority among their armies. Conventional knights, conscripts, and volunteers that were captured overwhelmingly agreed, even when tortured, that there doesn’t exist any units in their armies that use firearms or that carry out such successful assassinations.

Clearly, this isn’t true. Over time, the Imperial Army captured some elves that belonged to these supposedly non-existent units. It was surprising to find that these elves are far more resistant to torture and interrogation but eventually, some had enough and squealed.

Claiming to be secret elite units acting independently from their own country, these elves admitted that more entities are fighting the Empire. A secretive group who call themselves ‘Green Berets’ are said to have appeared to aid the elves fight against the Venesians. Though it was at first believed just to be a rumor meant to distract Venesia, the constant finger-pointing at these warriors means that the Emperor has to take this new threat seriously.

“‘Green Berets’, as they supposedly call themselves. They are said to be human warriors who are somehow well versed in our own weapons. They advise and train elite elf units on how to fight effectively. At least, that’s the rumor the elves claim to be true.”

“What an interesting revelation, is it not?” Artamo jests. “Truly makes one wonder what goes on behind enemy lines.”

“What do we know about the other countries and continents?” Corvus asks.

“Only what they tell us. The only people we can be sure of extensively experimenting with black powder is Narazar. If anyone knows how to fight with firearms, it’s them. Every other country is backward and primitive. But…”

“But?”

“One prisoner mentioned that they believe the ‘Green Berets’ originate from a human country dubbed ‘The Northern Republic’—the Federal Republic of Entesia.”

General Hadrianus points his finger on the table they surrounded. A rough map of the new world; at the very north laid a large country known as Entesia.

“It is only a single prisoner who said this, so this information holds no real weight.”

“Assuming these Green Berets are real, who are they most likely to be?”

“There are two scenarios we thought of. Since they are described as humans and well versed with firearms, they can very well be traitors or sympathizers from the Imperial Army. This is the most likely scenario. A more extreme scenario is intervention from a rival Great Power: Ravenia or Dercia.”

“Hmm… But only if they are real.”

“If not these Green Berets, then who? Surely your soldiers have fought with more people than just the elves of Eshe,” Artamo asks.

“We do not know,” Hadrianus answers. “These warriors may very well not exist. So far, we have only fought elves, but other elf kingdoms are known to have sent military units to assist Eshe. Knights and conscripts from Naritlume, Enalos, Karithian, and Oranil are the other elf nations the Imperial Army has battled within south Weslec. With so many countries involved, the Green Berets can be from any of them. But the dwarves never heard of them, and the disgraced Grand Duke and other former Eshe nobles also never heard that name. Furthermore, none have been spotted by our forces, much less captured. Also, the few elves who say they exist gave no hint that they are behind the assassinations.”

As frustrated as they are, they can do nothing more. Whoever is behind their failures, Corvus has to continue the campaign. Even with outside help, the elves are still being pushed further north, and the Imperial Army is making progress. It is painfully slow progress but progress nonetheless. The war will continue and intensify as more troops travel to the new world.

With the help of the newly created Alitic Alliance, a massive force will embark to ensure the complete takeover no matter who resists. The Empire will not accept anything less than victory. They will take control of the new world, or they share it with their allies. Either way, their political power and national strength will multiply and far outcompete the other Great Powers. A new era will begin, one characterized by Venesian dominance and supremacy.

That is Emperor Corvus’ vision.

.

.

On a bright sunny day, two hundred miles from the eastern coast of the Venesian Empire, seagulls squawk and soar high above the sky over several massive islands. The Regullum Archipelago is swarmed with activity as the Alitic Alliance amasses one of the largest fleets ever gathered. Nearly a thousand ships litter the sea in what looks like a massive maritime traffic jam.

From the picture-perfect beaches on the islands generally found in vacation brochures to the blue horizon in the distance, ships of wood and canvas gently float, rocking back and forth. The very height of the age of sail condensed in one scene.

Over a hundred of the ships are warships meant to protect the rest. They are Ships of the Lines consisting of First and Second Rate warships. The hulls of these ships are dotted with hatches where cannons would poke out to shred enemies that approach too close.

The majority of the vessels have the purpose of troop transport. They are full of troops and supplies that will be committed to the war effort. This one voyage alone would deliver a bit over a hundred thousand troops. It would be the first of a handful of voyages to reinforce the existing troops in south Weslec and conduct further invasions throughout the continent’s coast. The colonial war of south Weslec is about to spread to the rest of the continent.

Half of this colossal concentration of ships and troops is contributed by Venesia and Leruntia. The other half comprises Vintian, Casian, and Malitian military forces and a large group of missionaries and escorting knights from the Arcanic Church.

Such organization of so many ships and soldiers is a logistical miracle. It is an impressive sight to see and admire. The captains of each ship feel an immeasurable amount of pride to be a part of such a monumental undertaking.

As the sea glistens under the sunlight and the sailors laugh in joy, a bright red ball of light shoots up into the sky for all the ships to see. What could have been mistaken for a flare is actually a fireball launched by a mage. It is the signal to set sail.

Everywhere anyone can see, sails release and drop from the masts. The wind is blowing, and the seawater sprays. The sailors cheer in joy as the ships began to move.

“Yeah! To the new world we go!” yells one excited sailor.

“Such untold riches! Wonder what we’ll find?”

A group of Leruntian musket men converses among themselves. It is to be their first experience in warfare, and so spirits are high.

“Heard there are nothing but primitive civilizations. The Venesians already did quite the damage.”

“Even better, mate, they are fighting elves.”

“Elves? Well, ain’t that something? What are the chances we can snatch some for ourselves?”

“A good one, I reckon. I tell ya, I wouldn’t mind being disowned by my family if it meant I could bring home an elven beauty.”

“And without paying. Elf slaves cost a fortune as they are.”

”With good reason, mate. They are the finest creatures you’ll ever lay your hands on.”

As the sailors and soldiers daydream and fantasize about their future exploits, the near one thousand ship fleet slowly makes their way into the open ocean. The archipelago fades behind them, and all that is left is the vast ocean blanketed with ships.

.

.

Elves, in contrast to humans, are not the generic tree huggers most would think of. Though they have a higher appreciation for nature, they are not restricted from denying trends and advances made by humans. Of course, having the natural capability of magic, they created their own unique mixture of elven and human aspects to spawn a culture that explores that which humans can’t.

Their cities are built around the earth’s natural curves. Buildings are made of stone and wood but with an architecture that complements the greenery of the surroundings. Structures are generally built not to take away attention from vegetation but instead to add onto it or emphasize it. Waterfalls and rivers flow through undisturbed as majestic bridges connect one side of a city to the other. Utilizing their magic, their clean streets are lit up during the night to create a beautiful picturesque image. It is as if fireflies glowing a hundred times stronger wander throughout their cities.

Fethalean, the capital city of Eshe, would be no exception to the beauty expected of an elven city. However, recent times changed all that. The city has fallen to the Venesian Imperial Army and its people subjugated.

The once wonderful and bright city turned grim as Venesian mages, swordsmen, and musket men patrol the streets with animosity. Elf residents hide in their homes, hoping that no one knocks on their door to drag them out and into a cage.

It is common to see soldiers, particularly from the STC, barge into homes and drag out entire families. Near the city walls, a line of shackled elves awaits to be boarded onto a caravan of wagons. Painted on the side of the wagons and the armor of the escorting soldiers is a yellow dragon passant on a red shield. It is the coat of arms of the STC. They are transporting the now enslaved elves to the Senvian territory or the Venesian mainland.

In the city square, a gruesome display of executions is made for the public to witness and further instill fear in the elves. Bodies are hung, others are beheaded with guillotines, while another group is shot in firing lines. It is all on baseless suspicions and accusations of people spying or organizing uprisings and revolts. Rapes, beatings, and random killings are widespread throughout the kingdom, but the capital city faces the worst of it all.

It is no surprise that desperate elves make countless attempts to flee. Though the Venesian Imperial Army continues to hunt down and kill those trying to escape, a mass migration of refugees seeking asylum ultimately manifested to flee the war-torn country. The Republic of Naritlume, Eshe’s northern neighbor, faces waves of refugees from Eshe, but even it itself is not spared from fear. Caravans of citizens living in Naritlume don’t want to take the chance and choose to flee north to the Kingdom of Enalos, another elf kingdom.

Some refugees recognize the shift of the frontlines to Naritlume’s southern border and forethought the possibility that none of the elf nations are safe from war. A significant number of refugees, therefore, chose to flee to the west. They hope that the human kingdoms of Heartia, Mudcadia, or even Grinland would accept them into their societies out of the kindness of their heart.

However, the most significant obstacle to migrating to the human kingdoms is the terrain. Treacherous mountain ranges separate the western humans from the eastern elves with no safe passage through. The other option would be to travel all the way south to the tip of the continent and around the mountains, but the fact that it is nearing the south pole makes the climate a challenge. The reason no city is established so far south is that the landscape is an inhospitable taiga. Thick forests and the freezing temperatures, in addition to the dangerous wildlife, make the thought of such a trip suicide. Maritime travel is impossible as a result of the Venesian Navy constantly monitoring the coasts. 

The only viable option people have is north. North to the other elf kingdoms and beyond. To escape the hell that the Venesians brought upon them, any alternative is better. The same, unfortunately, can’t be said for the Grand Duke himself.

Imprisoned in his own dungeon in his own castle, Grand Duke Elceran is a shadow of his former self. Deprived of sleep and food, he was mercilessly beaten near death. He has no idea what he has ever done to deserve his circumstances nor why the Venesians carry so much hatred towards his kind.

Worst of all, his family was essentially destroyed. His son was killed, his wife was turned into some Venesian commander’s slave, and his daughter was abducted and sent away by the STC. Life simply can’t be worse.

While the rest of the city lives in unfathomable oppression, no one could know that something extraordinary will happen. The Entesians are watching the countless war crimes and brutal violations of morals and ethics from afar. Another U-2R was dispatched to observe the city. Nearly seventy thousand feet in the sky, the U-2R uses its highly advanced cameras to collect intelligence on both the whereabouts of Venesian and STC forces and gather intelligence on the Grand Duke’s castle.

A daring rescue mission is in the works.

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