Tale of a Hedonistic wizard-Chapter 449: Two Formidable elves

The air felt unnatural, thickened by an unseen force that weighed on their lungs. The citadel doors had shut, locking away whatever lay beyond, leaving only the two figures standing before them—W’ithas and Rhedel.

They had emerged from the darkness like heralds of something greater, something that lurked beneath the surface of the world

All of them stood, where they were, not moving.

W’ithas, being his usual self, crackled as he moved towards Daratrine, "Well, well, well, who do we have here?"

Rhedel watched the knights, but he was more wary of the elves.

Those two elves were dangerous; he knew that. They were more powerful than the three knights present on the other side.

He also moved W’ithas towards where Jaegar and the rest were standing.

The silver moonlight filtered through the ancient forest canopy, casting dappled shadows across the moss-covered ground.

Daratrine’s keen elven eyes scanned the darkness between the twisted trunks, her fingers tightening around her sword. She was now using her sword. She was both a sword wielder and a witch at peak, earning the name of Twin Moonstar of the Autumnhold.

Beside her, Felaern stood as he unsheathed his sword, his palm tightening around the ivory grip of her curved blade. His golden hair barely stirred in the chill night air.

They both sensed it before they saw it—a wrongness in the air, a corruption that made the very leaves seem to shrink away.

W’ithas grinned at Daratrine, his obsidian skin absorbing what little light reached the forest floor. The dark elf’s crimson eyes gleamed with malevolent intelligence, twin daggers of black steel held loose and ready at his sides.

While the confrontation was about to take place, the three knights quickly moved towards where Anashyssa was present. They looked at her condition; she was still breathing, but barely alive. She looked pale and lifeless.

W’ithas leaned back with his head turned to the knights, "If you hurry now to your kingdom, your queen can save her daughter."

His words reverberated in the ears of the knights. After a quick look at the princess, they also came to the same conclusion.

Jaegar frowned as to why W’ithas was telling the news of her recovery. And he could guess it already, seeing how he was eager to fight Daratrine.

He wanted to decrease his enemies, and if the knights left here with the Anashyssa, they would have fewer people to deal with.

Angelina moved to the two of the young people lying on the ground. She looked at Alaryc and Elowen, both of them breathing, but she didn’t know if they would leave. After the chaos extraction, their life source was barely hanging on. Elowen already seemed to be losing her life.

She quickly chanted a spell, casting a spell to slow her deterioration.

Meanwhile, the knights took Anashyssa and left the grounds. One of the knights looked at W’ithas and Rhedel and followed the others. They wanted to save their princess first; it was important to them.

He remembered their faces, and he will take his revenge in the future. That’s what the last departing gaze meant.

W’ithas understanding of the knight’s intention, chuckled loudly. He turned to Jaegar, and Jaegar felt a shiver run down his spine. There was something about his gaze that made Jaegar stand on the edge.

"Hey kid, long time no see!"

"The Shadowbound sends his regards," W’ithas purred, his voice like silk over broken glass. Behind him, a figure in dark robes materialised from the gloom—Rhedel, the dark wizard whose corrupted magic had been terrorizing the borderlands for months.

Daratrine’s musical voice cut through the tension. "Your shadow magic has no power here, Rhedel. The forest remembers who its true children are."

The wizard’s laugh was dry and brittle. "The forest? It’s merely waiting to be reshaped, like everything else." His fingers began weaving patterns in the air, trailing wisps of purple-black energy.

Felaern didn’t wait for the spell to complete. He launched himself forward, his long sword describing deadly arcs through the air.

W’ithas met him halfway, darkness trailing from his blades like smoke. The clash of steel on steel rang through the trees as the two elves engaged in a deadly dance.

Daratrine moved to flank, but Rhedel’s magic erupted between them. Writhing tendrils of shadow reached for her with grasping fingers. She rolled beneath them, her blade flashing in the moonlight as she severed three of the magical constructs. They dissolved with an otherworldly shriek, but more rose to take their place.

Meanwhile, Felaern and W’ithas fought with the preternatural speed of their kind. The dark elf’s style was all fluid grace and deadly precision, each movement flowing into the next like water over stones. But Felaern matched him step for step, his centuries of experience evident in every parry and riposte. Their blades sang against each other, neither able to find an opening in the other’s defence.

"Your woodland tricks won’t save you," W’ithas hissed, ducking under a sweeping slash. His counterattack came low, aiming to hamstring his opponent, but Felaern leaped over the strike with elvish agility, using a nearby tree trunk as a springboard to launch a flying attack from above.

With that, W’ithas was forced to dive and roll, coming up near where Daratrine was still dealing with Rhedel’s shadow constructs. The dark elf’s daggers flashed toward her exposed back, but she sensed his approach. Without looking, she bent backward at an impossible angle, his blades passing harmlessly above her face. Her own sword swept up in a reverse grip, forcing W’ithas to abandon his attack and retreat. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Rhedel seized the moment to unleash a more powerful spell. The ground beneath their feet writhed and buckled as shadows took solid form, erupting upward in jagged spikes. Both Daratrine and Felaern were forced to dance backward, their movements a blur as they avoided being impaled.

"The old magics are failing," Rhedel proclaimed, his voice resonating with dark power. "The shadow rises, and your light dims. Why resist the inevitable?"

Daratrine’s response was action, not words.

She threw herself into a forward roll, coming up inside the wizard’s guard. Her blade traced a silver arc toward his throat, but W’ithas was there, his daggers catching her sword in a cross-block. The force of the impact sent vibrations up both their arms.