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"An endless ocean of green and cultivated fields," that's how Hades could have described most of Rakia as he traveled through the country.
"Rot grew on the ashes of elven civilizations," and that's how in the most gracious way. Belakher could have referred to the nation he was traveling through.
Both were right. Contrary to popular belief, Ares' country was not just barracks, fortresses, and military camps. They had many fertile lands that yielded abundant crops, and considering that they maintained a permanent army of hundreds of thousands man, they had to use it as much as possible to feed all those warriors. They owed the fertility of their soil to the care of the elves who lived in the forests before they were completely cut down and the remnants of the majestic flora ploughed over with hoes. The tragedy of these events was added by the fact that it was the conquered elven nations that were harnessed to often slave labor. Longeared had two options. Either deny their pride and destroy the legacy of their people or survive. Most preferred the latter. The minority usually chose it so as not to orphan their own children.
Elves putted values ​​above all else. Dignity, purity, knowledge and honor. Only a few preferred to live with the awareness of having emptied any of them than to die with their heads held high.
Landgrave looked with disgust at the slave markets in towns and larger villages, which he had to see on his way to the market to replenish supplies. The complete lack of respect for other living beings. Humans, werebeasts, pallums, dwarves, hybrids or elves. It didn't matter. Some asked about age, education and other useful skills. Others looked into the oral cavity to check the condition of the teeth of a potential purchase. There were even lechers who groped women's breasts and male organs as if these people had no feelings.
The purple-eyed man was disgusted by all of this, and only his god stopped him from ordering the undead to begin the slaughter.
He was not impressed by the thick walls, tall watchtowers, or flags depicting a warrior with a spear and shield on a red background. In short, the capital of Rakia, Valua, did not appeal to him immediately after he saw its outline on the horizon.
Hades, meanwhile, preferred to look at the outskirts of the city not through the prism of prejudice, but with his own eyes.
Ares did not disappoint when it came to fortifying his capital. This was not some gluing of bricks and planks, but a real fortified city. The solid wooden gates were reinforced with metal elements and an iron grate that could be lowered in case of an enemy attack. Inside the walls he saw small openings that were not at all created by the negligence of the workers or the lack of building materials, they were completely even and well-aimed. In reality, they were defensive points for soldiers to shower the advancing enemy with arrows and bolts. He saw hundreds, thousands of his nephew's followers standing guard at important points or groups patrolling the area. They all looked the same, solidly armed, straight, well-built and cleanly shaven, exactly as a model soldier should look. On the military side, Ares did a really good job of organizing Valua.
The guards carefully searched the traders' wagons, asked about the purpose of their arrival and the length of their stay, collected customs duty for entry without even trying to put a single copper into their own pocket. Meanwhile, the scribe, sitting behind a wooden desk, wrote everything down, locked the money in a box, and coordinated the work of the army members.

- Names? - said the man with an elderly face and feather in hand, when Belakher and his lord were finally the first in line to cross the walls.

The men had taken off their hoods, which were part of their black cloaks that they wore when traveling. They had made similar clothing for their horses, which might have drawn some attention. After all, only generals or kings dressed their stallions, and only for great battles. Nevertheless, they preferred not to show why their mounts were not panting after galloping thousands of kilometers, and why they were not jostling with other horses for access to a watering hole.

- We have come at the personal invitation of Lord Ares - replied the golden-eyed.

- Oh, I see! - the scribe cried with a look of astonishment. - As did fifty other people today. Names!

Belakher had been in a bad mood since he had crossed the borders of that cursed country, and addressing his god in such a way only increased his irritation. He didn't even care that the Rakian couldn't see that he was talking to a being from the Upper World.
The gods might have given off an unusual aura, immediately telling what race they are, but there were cases like Zeus, Hera, Kali, Ra, or even Hades, who were skilled enough in wielding their own powers that they could completely silence their divinity, thus ceasing to differ at first glance in any way from mortals.

- Pluto - the lord of the dead said with an emotionless expression on his face. - Send to the divine guardian of this land with information that Pluto and his servant have come at the call of the god of war himself.

The man was a bit stunned in reaction to Hades' words. Every day there were cases of people pretending to be great elites, just to avoid paying the tax for crossing the gates or at least to enter the city without queuing.
However, it had never happened that they asked for information to be sent to Ares himself. After all, upon hearing the unfamiliar name, he would have the newcomers chased away, maybe even imprisoned for slander and unjustified references to his majesty.

- You're kidding, right? - asked the man, blinking uncertainly.

- We are patient, sir - Belakher said in a composed tone. - I am not certain, however, what the great Ares will do when he learns that the arrival of his guests has been delayed.

- Did someone give you permission to speak, elf? - one of the soldiers shouted.

- Your master probably didn't teach you any manners - the second one snorted.

Not all elves became slaves after their settlements were conquered. Formally, they had the same rights as other citizens of Rakia. Despite this, they were a minority of society, recently at war with it, and even after peace, resentment towards the enemy remains in the human heart for a long time. That is why they were usually treated as an inferior species, who should do and listen, not talk and think.

- Have you gone deaf?! - the first one continued.

- Maybe if we cut his ears a little he'll hear better? - added his companion.

Landgrave bravely endured the insults of the Rakians. As long as they did not verbally attack his god, he had no intention of drawing the bident hanging from his back.
He was about to say that he was sorry for his behavior, but that he was only representing his lord. In the end, Hades got ahead of him.

- If you do not want Lord Ares to sentence you to a flogging or to tearing belts from your backs, then I advise you to respect both me and my servant. Your god invited us both, not just me.

The low, guttural voice and piercing gaze like a spear were enough to make the men-at-arms and the scribe break out in cold sweat. Neither of them had ever met such a terrifying person. On top of that, this same man had been a haven of peace just a moment ago. In fact, he still spoke in a monotone and calm voice, but they understood perfectly well that they had really angered him for a reason.

- You there! - the scribe said to a nearby private, who in a split second stood at attention with his chest out. - Go to the palace! Tell Lord Ares that Pluto himself has come at his invitation!

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