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🕑 Added 2025-07-14 08:39:41 +0000 UTCThe Witcher: The last King of the elves
Chapter 3 – The Hunt Begins
Thranduil looked at his personal guard, which did not exceed one hundred elves, so the counter showed a number below that, meaning there had to be at least a thousand elves nearby for the first task to be completed.
Thinking of the thousands of elves hidden in the last stronghold of his race, Thranduil, regretful of decisions he had not made in the first place, considered what lay ahead in order to find an optimal solution.
"There are two great missions, but I'm afraid I must focus on the second one."
For someone like Thranduil, eliminating beasts corrupted by evil was the easiest thing he could do with his skills.
Besides being a powerful fire mage, Thranduil was a warrior gifted with impeccable combat abilities.
But not all paths were easy to take; they had their own difficulties.
If humans found out that elf tribes were gathering, the news of a new rise of elves would grow stronger, and that would cause their enemies to take him more seriously.
Thranduil, knowledgeable in forgotten things, knew that in this forest tainted with demonic creatures corrupted by the void, there was enormous resentment toward the elves, who at some point in history had pushed them into oblivion.
But now, with humans at the top of this world, the darkness that the elven race had strived to exterminate had grown stronger. And unfortunately, that strength surrounded Thranduil, who was in a kingdom destroyed by war.
"We must be quick," Thranduil murmured, his bright eyes gazing at the dense forests surrounding them.
It’s already late, and in a few hours, night will fall.
At night, wild beasts went mad and their strength doubled thanks to ancient magics that had not been erased.
Moreover, after the barrier Thranduil had placed to keep the dark forces away from the lost relics and forbidden knowledge had been removed, it was very likely that beasts and the undead would attack at night.
To gain strength, Thranduil needed to complete the second mission as soon as possible and witness the birth of war elves.
At that moment, he would be able to train combat-type elf soldiers to protect the territory with him.
"I have to go, all of you protect the Tree of Life."
Thranduil's cold words were absolute.
All the elves, who had never, since their birth, questioned their king’s orders, looked at each other. They thought that perhaps Thranduil would try to place the barrier again—he was the only one who could—but going alone was suicide.
"Your Majesty, allow me to be your guardian."
A tall elf, his face marked by a scar, looked at Thranduil’s figure hoping to follow him.
"No, I need you in this place… Remember, when the vitality of this ruined kingdom comes to life once more, you will know that any sacrifice was worth it."
Thranduil said nothing more, he left the secret place and walked through the destroyed monuments.
His gaze was fixed on those war elves who waited to be brought into this world, who wore golden armor, carried bows on their backs and curved silver swords at their waists.
Without a doubt, they were first-class warriors.
These elves seemed different, but there was one thing they did very well—follow orders.
"This will do for now."
Thranduil’s hand moved, and from the corners, vitality gathered, forming humanoid puppets of adolescent elves.
All these stone elves, no more than twenty in number, surrounded Thranduil, who gave them all an order: to clear the path ahead so that he could fight more comfortably.
The stone figures, controlled by elven magic, moved under Thranduil’s will, fulfilling each of his commands.
“[...
[Ancient Classical Magic, Stone Puppets]:
[Creation]: Elven magic.
[Function]: Mainly used to carry out crafting tasks, but their functions have even been employed in ancient wars.
…]”
Magic was everywhere—for someone like Thranduil, it was like moving a single hand.
His power kept growing, fusing with him in an alarming way.
Perhaps in a few hundred more years, there would be no living or dead being capable of matching his power, except for the Elf Princess. But Thranduil knew he didn't have much time; he believed that in no more than twenty years, chaos would strike this world.
Humans, who had been lucky to become a mass that expanded easily, would be the first to be exterminated. Their fragile order would collapse, their just kings would be corrupted by darkness, and then, when no chain of command remained, they would kill each other.
The fragility of the human being made no sense…
How had they lost to them?
As Thranduil was overtaken by the dream any other elf might have, his gaze wandered around and saw collapsed ruins of ancient monuments everywhere.
Aside from many ancient trees, no other useful resources had been found for the gathering his puppets were doing.
Thranduil thought that perhaps, since this was an ancient battlefield, magical crystals could be found, but those crystals had long since turned into fossils.
A sad truth, so Thranduil ordered the puppets that were still searching the area to join the other elves to protect the Tree of Life.
Wasting no time, Thranduil placed a few simple magical barriers and soon left the place.
In no time, he was near the forest, where he would surely find magical creatures.
Not long after, Thranduil arrived at a street near the plaza.
The buildings on both sides of the street had long since turned to ruins, the overgrowth of plants had created green layers over the collapsed structures.
The only things that remained were some giant sculptures and, besides that, silence—a silence Thranduil did not like.
The surroundings were eerily quiet.
All that could be heard was the sound of Thranduil walking over rotted wood.
In the past, with the help of magic, Thranduil had explored these areas many times without finding any danger, but now he did not dare be careless.
At some point, as Thranduil walked, an old wooden staff appeared in his hand.
This was the last magical relic left to the elven race, a powerful weapon that might be unique in the world.
Adding his armor, sword, and daggers, Thranduil's equipment was extremely remarkable. But it wasn’t just appearances—his strength placed him among the top ranks on the human power scale.
Thranduil was sure of that—there was no doubt his magic was powerful.
On this Continent, mages hold a high position in the power scale. Not because of their physical strength, but due to their command of Chaos, that wild energy which, when channeled with discipline, can alter reality itself.
A mage can easily burn entire armies with a single word, manipulate kings, and extend their lives for centuries.
As for warriors, they are the muscle of the world. From foot soldiers to legendary swordsmen, they rely on skill, training, and courage. Some can rival a sorcerer if they manage to get close enough to pierce their magic shield.
Then there are the superhumans, and above them was Thranduil—an elf who inherited the most powerful and destructive bloodline.
And now, with his connection to the World Tree, Thranduil was destined for great things.
“That smell…” Thranduil, clad in his golden armor, waved his magical staff once in his left hand.
In an instant, a red light burst from his body and soon formed a blazing red protective shield that surrounded him.
His magic was natural, it coexisted with Thranduil, moved at his will, and altered the laws of physics as he pleased, using fire in ways no one else ever could.
This shield, a massive circle of controlled ferocious flames surrounding Thranduil, illuminated the surroundings but emitted no heat.
Only the strong could detect that the magic Thranduil was using was overwhelmingly destructive.
From the very beginning, Thranduil wouldn’t play with his enemies. He would make it clear that those who entered the elven realm would be erased from existence.
Several kilometers from the central plaza, Thranduil suddenly heard a strange noise.
Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw several giant rats with black bodies scavenging through the ruins a hundred meters away.
“Filthy rats…” Thranduil moved his hand, and the circle of fire surrounding him instantly erupted into flames directed at the swamp rats.
Soon, the fire exploded on target, igniting the area within a radius of dozens of meters. Several swamp rats of various sizes were instantly charred.
“Low-level creatures like those won’t give me much of what I’m looking for, it’s a waste of time,” Thranduil muttered, who, though he didn’t underestimate the forest creatures, knew that a small group wasn’t a threat.
Thranduil had once witnessed from afar the spectacular scene of a tide of rats sweeping across the land.
Just as Thranduil was about to continue on his path, he suddenly felt a surge of energy appearing in his body, slowly increasing his magical power.
"Is this... killing monsters to gain experience?" Thranduil asked the system and immediately received a positive response.
“[...
You can kill enemies, obtain special energy, and then quickly increase your combat level.
At the same time, if you have troops under your command, you can also share part of the special energy when they annihilate the enemy. This is the lord’s privilege, King of the Elves.
...]”
A power many would consider delusional, a gift that should not be received by an elf. But Thranduil would use any power within reach to see his race bask in glory once again.
After enduring so many injustices, the elves would soon be treated with respect.
“That means I don’t have to wait a hundred years to be invincible on the Continent. That will make things easier.” Thranduil smiled coldly as he watched those orange flames die down.
He walked toward the place where several swamp rats had been killed.
There was still an orange flame burning there, but when Thranduil approached, the flame automatically parted and did not harm him at all.
It wasn’t that the flames were spiritual—it was that Thranduil was immune to the fire element.
As long as it was fire, whether magic created by man or born from nature, it couldn’t harm him.
This was the innate talent of the sun elves.
“This is interesting.” Next to the charred corpses of several giant rats, Thranduil found several items that looked like green crystals.
“[...
[Magic Crystal]: An important resource for enhancing the growth of the Tree of Life, an indispensable resource for the elven race to flourish once again.
[Mission Number 1]: One thousand magic crystals are needed to improve the Tree of Life.
...]”
"Judging by the pace, it might not take long to gather them all.” Thranduil continued forward.
Two hours later, Thranduil had killed nearly a hundred monsters, almost all swamp rats. Only three were stone vipers hiding among the rubble.
Stone vipers are magical beasts with a medium danger level. An adult stone viper measures about a hundred meters long and is generally level five.
But it didn’t take Thranduil much effort to kill the three stone vipers. He wiped out the entire family with a single fireball.
“There are many wild beasts, but not all are magical…”
Thranduil walked toward a forest covered in underbrush.
Thousands of years had passed, and many areas of the ancient elven city were now covered by similar forests. There were countless ancient trees hundreds of meters tall, and numerous monsters had emerged that had once been hard to find.
“There are so many ancient, imposing trees that I wonder if it was once common for elves to be born from trees…” Thranduil thought, knowing nothing about it.
“That story was probably exiled along with this kingdom…”
After entering the forest, Thranduil used fireball magic to clear a path.
As he killed the monsters hiding in the forest, he walked deeper into the darkest woods he had never dared to traverse alone before.
Compared to the ruins outside, there were obviously more monsters in the forest.
Hunting here could speed up his task of unlocking the Tree of Life’s first functions.
