A Reason to Fight (Part 2)

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**Greg**

The messengers we sent to Darkmoor arrived shortly after breakfast. I was hopeful of a good news coming from the Princess Noir; however, what greeted me was a group of bloodied and exhausted soldiers, and a pair of maids with them. As the clan elders gathered around them to help, stories flowed in.

"They rained bullets on us! We got three killed!"

"Those elves! They're killing our people!"

"I don't want to go back to Darkmoor! I'd rather die!"

I don't like what I'm hearing.

"Lord Naru, dire news!" a lycanthrope sentry told the Tambara lord. "One of our patrols saw these people sent to Darkmoor running back to our city, with a small cavalry of elves after them."

"Elves?" the Lord Naru exclaimed.

Another clan elder asked, "Are you sure of what you saw?"

The Tambara sentry insisted on his story, and it was also supported by the people we sent.

"What are those long-ears doing here?"

There was a great consternation among the military officers and clan elders present, since another faction appeared in the conflict—the elves. Many of them were shocked and kept on asking questions about their presence. Honestly, I didn't have an idea of the complications this new development would imply, my focus was on healing the injured.

I started with one of the maids. She was quiet, and I noticed that one of her arms was missing. Her torn uniform, and the dried blood on it showed that her limb was freshly-severed from her; such injury would kill a human on the spot—she's fortunate to be an Usarved for that wound to heal that fast. In any case, the god-power of the human saint was enough to make the lost limb grow back again, and when I saw that the maid was already fine, I asked one of the soldiers we sent out on what happened to her...

"We saw those long-ears pursuing them, and when they caught up, they slashed her with their swords, as if playing on them!" an orc soldier told me. "We tried to help, but those accursed elves...they also got powerful crack horns that shoot fast and far!"

"Does their crack horns look like this?" I showed to him my M1911 pistol.

The orc, and also the maid, shook their heads. The soldier added, "It was longer than that, milord, and it was all-black. The elves held it like this..." He showed to me how the elves carried their guns, and much to my horror, it was the way like the M16, M14 or the AK-47 was held. Acting on my suspicions, I drew a rough sketch of the guns I had in my head, but the orc said 'no' to all of my samples.

A gun that is carried like an assault rifle, but not those I thought about. Can it possibly be a weapon from another world, aside from mine?

"Milord!" one of the maids suddenly ran to me, fell to her knees and begged, "Thank the saints, I finally found you Lord Greg! Please help us! We're from Castle Darkmoor, and we just escaped from that place!"

Wait, this servant is awfully familiar to me! If I remember, she's that one 'aggressive' maid who kept on playing jokes on me when I first took a bath in the Usarved palace. Err...what is her name again?

"I'm Angelli!" she cried out when she noticed that I couldn't remember her name. "I'm one of Her Highness' faithful servants! And with me is Leiver! She's the one you healed, milord!"

"It's fine, Angelli, you guys are safe now," I tried to calm her down, for she was hysterical. I also gave her a mug of water.

"Milord..." Angelli never let go of my clothes; the mixed expression of fear and sadness was on her face, and she was crying non-stop. However, after a few words of assurances, mugs of water and pats on the back, she's much calmer now.

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