Gate: Thus the Sorcerous Kingdom Fought There

CHAPTER 15: Let the hunt begin, A dark star rising!

Two Flame Dragons had flown to the Schwarz Forest several months ago.

It happened suddenly. That said, despite it being the home of the Dark Elves, they had only taken a few casualties at first because most of them were outside of the village for religious reasons.

However, the Flame Dragons were not satisfied with so few deaths. It flew by again and again to fill their empty stomach, and many of their brethren had been lost one by one.

If this went on, the tribe would be destroyed.

The Dark Elves abandoned the Schwarz Forest, which was now the Flame Dragons' hunting ground. They scattered to the nearby barrens, creeks, and foothills.

Thus the Dark Elves' daily life became one of evading the Flame Dragons' attacks.

They watched the sky day and night and even cowered from passing birds. When the air raid horn sounded, all they could do was hide in their holes like moles and tremble in fear.

However, if they were careless, the Flame Dragon would get them.

It would breathe fire into their holes, dig them out, or just collapse the tunnels on top of them.

The same friends whom they had greeted in the morning would be torn apart, chewed up and swallowed by the two Flame Dragons in the evening. Thus, the only thing they could do is tremble and wait. True, the dragons were slightly smaller than their mother. Their capabilities to swallow and destroy things were none at less.

The elves had to cover their ears and ignore the pitiful cries of their comrades surrounding them and their wails as they awaited the end. They let their friends sacrifice themselves to buy time to escape, and moved to ever more treacherous places or deeper valleys to hide.

But a life spent fleeing was no life at all.

They had to hunt for their food, but the Elves' hunting grounds were also the Flame Dragons'.

When they spotted their prey, the Dragons had their eyes on them. When they brought their quarry down, the Dragons might claim them instead. They tried various other means to feed themselves.

They peeled off tree bark and boiled it, then ate it as they drank muddy water. This was their life.

The resources they had brought from the stricken regions were running thin. Their food stocks were gradually running low. Resolving themselves to die, their young archers prepared themselves and headed to the hunting grounds.

There were casualties every day.

No day went by without the cries of orphaned children, or the sound of voices cursing the two beasts for the loss of their children and relatives.

Of course, there were those who took up bow and sword in anger and challenged the Dragons.

However, they were like eggs thrown at a rock. All their valiant efforts accomplished was adding to the number of corpses in the beasts' lair.

The aid of the spirits, their mithril arrowheads, their strong armor, none of them availed them against the two Flame Dragons.

They thought that magic swords might help, but then they could not even get the tips through the scales. Not even speaking as they approached one, the other either fried them or swallowed them whole. The magic swords merely added to the collection in the two Dragons' lair.

The Dark Elves' hearts were filled with despair and emptiness.

There were those who believed in Hardy and who felt the call of the afterlife and went to it with desperate laughter, like prisoners just before execution. Insanity spread like an incurable disease through the tribe. There were many who lost the will to live and lay down and died.