Jax stood atop a rocky outcrop, surveying the carnage below.
Blood. Screams. The beautiful symphony of war.
Demons clashed against elves in brutal combat. Steel met claws. Magic met darkness. Bodies fell on both sides.
And Jax?
He was living his fantasy.
"THAT DEMON! THE PURPLE HORNED ONE! HE'S ESCAPING AT NINE O'CLOCK!"
He pointed dramatically.
"CUT HIM OFF! FLANK FROM THE LEFT!"
Nobody listened.
Not a single soldier even glanced his way.
"ARCHERS! FOCUS FIRE ON THE REAR GUARD!"
Still nothing.
'Whatever. I'm still the king in my heart.'
He grinned and continued shouting commands that nobody would follow.
Below, the battle was reaching its conclusion.
The demons were powerful- terrifyingly so. Their magic had initially sent waves of fear through the elven ranks.
But power meant nothing against numbers.
Fifty demons.
Five hundred soldiers.
Math was undefeated.
