Part 28

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Eric felt like something was off, but elected to ignore it for the moment. The sun was glaring in his eyes as it set, making it hard for Eric to see the male in front of him. Deciding to use his magic on him, Eric wrapped vines around the warrior's legs making him fall to the ground. Quickly finishing the male off, he searched the battlefield for the twins.

He caught sight of a strawberry blonde tail and made his way over. About three-fourths of the southern fae were dead, but there was still no sign of the generals. Parker, Logan anything? Eric wanted to take care of the leaders as quickly as he could, but he needed to find them first.

Still no sign of them. Logan responded.

Nothing yet. Parker added.

Gods, where were they? The twins had spotted the generals with the army, but now they were nowhere to be seen. There was a chance that they were hiding in the forest, or that they've already gone back over the boundary. If that was the case, the generals were nothing but cowards.

Wait, I see them. Logan practically yelled. They're near the healer's tent. That was all the motivation Eric needed. He sprinted towards where Logan indicated and found the two wolves were clearing the way for him. Eric only nodded his head in thanks and continued. Unsurprisingly, Demi's descriptions of the generals were spot on. They both looked incredibly old, though fought like they were in their prime.

Eric's sprint slowed to a confident stride as he neared. His uneasiness at the generals being so close to Demi was expertly hidden behind a smirk. A mask, if you will. Masks had always helped Eric in the past, even saved him a few times, and they would help him now. If the generals saw uncertainty or fear in his eyes, they'd get the upper hand.

When the surrounding fae came close to him, Eric's magic took care of them. Vines burst from the ground violently and wrapped around all southern fae in his proximity, except the generals. For what they did to Demi, their deaths would be by his sword. It was more personal that way. As the generals finally noticed themselves exposed and Eric getting closer, they stared at him. Good, he had their attention.

The short and chubby general charged at him, while the gangly one stood back, assessing. Eric's sword twirled in his hand before meeting the one coming at him. Throwing the sword off, he slammed his elbow into the male's nose, causing him to stumble. This time it was Eric who brought his sword down onto his opponent. His legs slightly lifted from the ground, as he attacked the general with as much force he could muster. 

The sword that met his was up a second before it would've been too late and it made a sound that told Eric it was close to breaking from the hit. Dark green eyes met his brown ones, and the general used the pressure that Eric was applying to push himself back. When the tall gangly general entered the fight, Eric was forced to take a step back and reassess. He drew his second sword. It was shorter but built thicker to take stronger hits.

After the generals shared a look, they advanced on Eric. "Your outnumbered boy, give up." The tall one said.

"That may be, but you are outmatched." And before either could reply, Eric swung his long sword at the shorter male. He narrowly avoided it by an inch and quickly brought his lone weapon up in a defensive position, telling Eric that the gangly general was going on offense.

As he heard steel slice through the air, Eric spun and caught the sword that was aiming for his exposed back. With both his weapons in an X, Eric clenched his teeth at the weight, making it look like he was hissing. The general had the advantage of height, making it even harder. Hearing the sound of a sword through the air again, Eric ducked under the sword that would've taken his head. Now, his back was to the healer's tent, where injured were being rushed in, where his mate was treating people, defenseless. The two generals stood in front of him, both in offensive positions.

Well, that's great. Eric thought sarcastically. He had a plan, but he'd need a few seconds for his magic to charge up. After mentally scolding himself for using too much too fast, Eric stalled. "This all seems like a lot of trouble for just one camp. Don't you think?" The tall general looked like he knew that Eric was stalling, but the chubby general clearly didn't mind talking.

"You pose a threat." A proud smile grew on his repulsive baby face. "We are the ones who take care of threats." For a few minutes, he went on. The southern fae are stronger blah, blah, the northern fae are weak, blah, blah, and the humans will be ruled by us, blah, and blah. How much can one person repeat the exact same thing over and over, just in different ways? Doesn't it get tiring?

Eric blocked most of it out while willing his magic to recharge just enough for his plan to work. "And that little healer." The words snapped him out of his thoughts. "She's not where she's supposed to be." What did that mean? Before Eric could question it, his instinct went into overdrive. All he saw was red, and the adrenaline he felt was enough to cause his magic to skyrocket.

The earth started to shake with anger. Rage, really. It was an incredibly familiar emotion to Eric at the moment. Rocks were in the air, the ground began to split in two. Out from the cracks came roots, vines, and a large assortment of flowering plants. Tree branches began to extend and grab onto enemy soldiers, vines and roots shot out of the ground and burst through warriors, making a sort of leafy chain. Some roots simply swatted at those stupid enough to try and fight back.

The generals looked upon the wreckage Eric had caused with wide eyes which turned accusatory when they came back to rest on him. "Prince Ericson Dragoste," Both said, part fury, part fear, and part awe at his power. They knew who he was, probably from the stories and rumors. "The king will be very pleased with your death." It seemed that the generals were idiotic enough to think they could beat him in a fight, as they attacked Eric with renewed force.

Eric swung and dodged, he didn't really know what he was doing, all of it was reflex. His body was on its own because his mind was focused on his magic. At first, his abilities had reacted on their own, but now they were relying on Eric's command. Soon enough, there was blood on his face, and as Eric's mind caught up with its actions, he saw that the short general was now dead, a direct hit to the neck, which had almost completely decapitated the male. Reeling his magic in, Eric focused wholly on the second general.

The two males went back and forth for minutes, giving each other only minor scratches. Every time they clashed together, one was forced back by the other. Finally, after he felt a sudden burst of energy, Eric managed to slice the males leg at the mid thigh, causing the general's right side to be left open. Eric took the opportunity and brought his sword down. The general staggered and put his hand to his side. Somehow he was still standing, but not for long. Eric reached for his strangely fully powered magic, and with a swipe of his hand, a large root with thorns tore through the male's heart.

As the light finally left the general's eyes, Eric turned to see what damage he had caused. Most of the battlefield was littered with bodies, from the looks of its mostly southern fae. His own soldiers had stopped as the last fae surrendered, and surveyed the area. Roots, vines, water, mud, and blood were everywhere. Somewhere, someone started cheering for their victory. Soon enough everyone had joined in, even Eric, though he knew that there was still much to be done, and for some families, this wouldn't be a victory at all.

At the moment Eric just wanted to go to Demi, and remember that what had happened, all the lives he took, did not make him a monster, that he had a soul in him. But she was working, and he had work to do as well.

Somewhere, deep in Eric's mind, he registered that there was no sign of the third general. That he was still alive and out there, still a threat to him and his mate. 

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