The arrival of the men in green and the existence of their communicator devices ignited a spark of hope for salvation throughout the masses. Word of these new developments spread quickly, promising salvation to those who had long been downtrodden. But not everyone was convinced. Some remained skeptical, and it was only a matter of time before someone reported the news to the authorities.
And that day finally came as elven knights from the city marched into the villages, determined to confirm the rumors themselves.
In a dimly lit room, a group of human men huddled together in a secret meeting, talking about various things.
"Here are the exits of the palace," one of them said, unfurling a map. "Though it is usually heavily guarded by guards, there is a certain time of the day when they change shifts, and that is where we have a chance to slip in."
Everyone in the room murmured in surprise and one man leaned forward with eyes widened.
"Oh, I see. Our brother is truly reliable," he said, nodding in approval. "I bet those Tarxan authorities would never suspect that the very people they've treated as inferiors are preparing to rise against them."
The first speaker raised his hand for silence.
"Remember, let us not act too suspiciously," he urged. "We cannot afford to draw attention. Our benefactors are depending on us. The day of liberation that was foretold by the prophet has come. Let us all help them as much as possible and must do everything in our power to ensure a better future for our people and our children."
The room grew solemn, a few of the men visibly moved by his words and other people around the table had their expression turned into almost something teary eyed. One of them stepped forward and spoke loudly.
"Let us live to see the day of our liberation! To the common cause!" he declared with his fist raised.
Cheers erupted around the table as all the men chatted merrily happily, seeing the one they had hoped for so long was finally coming to fruition. They knew they were placing their faith in these green-clad men and their mysterious devices, but what other choice did they have? For the first time in their lives, they felt hope, and the fires of revolution were now burning bright within them.
It was only a matter of time.
————————————————————————
Kingdom of High Tarxa, Near High Elven Ville, In A Forest, Village Of Humans
1st Year of God, Tuesday, 1st Week, 4th Month Of Jacob
A human male that was of tattered nature was rushing towards a location as if his entire life depended on it. His shoes were already broken and his feet bleeding profusely with each step, yet he keeps on marching towards his intended location, driven by desperation.
His face was caked in dried blood with his throat parched, and hunger was going around his head, making the very ground beneath his feet seem like food in his delirium. However, he preserved and pushed himself toward the faint outline of a village that appeared on the horizon, which made him quickened his pace and run faster until he collapsed at the village entrance.
Unconscious, he lay there while the villagers slowly gathered around out of curiosity. After a tense pause, someone finally stepped forward to help. They carried the man to one of their homes, cleaned his wounds, and washed the dirt from his body. All that was left was to wait for him to wake.
Hours passed in silence until the man finally showed some signs of awakening. As his eyes fluttered open, he was in a state of panic and confusion. Immediately, he shot up and shouted wildly.
"Q-Quick! All of you, you need to evacuate now!" His voice was frantic, full of terror.
The villagers, alarmed, drew closer and listened on his every word.
"The Tarxan Authorities… they got hold of information about the men in green, and the communicator devices. They destroyed my village and massacred everyone when they found one. Now they're sweeping through all the villages and collect every communicator they can find. This place is one of the last still standing! You have to flee before it's too late!" The man was panic-stricken, crying out as he is barely catching his breath.
After hearing the situation, chaos erupted as the villagers panicked, running in all over the surroundings and tried to gather everything they could bring in a frenzied attempt to escape the wrath of the Tarxan Authorities.
People were pushed down and stumbled in the confusion as the villagers were running around, which caused the villagers to suffer some injuries and, most tragically, a fatality.
The one who suffered the fatality was none other than a child, who had been playing outside the house where the man was brought in. The poor child was stepped on non-stop his small body was crushed by the crowd until it couldn't breathe anymore.
When the rush subsided, the child lay lifeless on the ground while the boy's mother collapsed beside him and cried anguishly as she cradled her deformed unbreathing child.
The house that had been filled with life just moments ago now felt hollow, save for the man and the grieving family. The man rose and spoke in a softer voice now as he addressed those still in the room.
"Um, if it's alright for you," he said cautiously, "Can you show me where the communicator device is? We should destroy it before the authorities get here."
The father, shaken by his child's death, nodded. He led the man to a small room where the communicator device was hidden.
The man gazed at the device and, to the villagers' surprise, a smirk appeared across his face. He turned to them and offered his thanks.
"W-Wait," the father stammered in confusion, "Aren't we going to destroy it?"
The man's expression softened and the father could see a strange mixture of pity and sorrow on the man's eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "But this is the only way I can save my family… and my village."
He pulled a crystal from his tattered clothes and crushed it in his hand. Instantly, a massive magical circle appeared beneath the village, glowing ominously as it began to hum with power.
Realizing the man's betrayal, the husband of the household flew into a rage. He charged at the man and delivered a hard punch, but it was too late as the magic formation had already completed, and dozens of armed magicians materialized within the village.
Upon seeing the armed magicians, the villagers became even more panic-stricken as they scattered in all directions, desperate to escape. The traitorous man, however, fell to his knees before the magicians.
"My lord, this village indeed has a communicator device. I've seen it myself. It's hidden in the house behind me."
The lord smirked and cast a glance at the human traitor, then proceeded toward the house without a word, but the man called out behind him.
"And… about my family and village, my lord?"
The lord stopped, and his smirk widened into something more sinister.
"Yes, yes. You'll be able to see them soon."
Relief washed over the man's face. But the lord's next words pierced through his heart.
"Oh, and I must say," the lord added maliciously, "Your wife was quite delicious. Her screams of agony were music to my ears. And your daughter, even more so, such youth, such beauty… It was a pleasure and really contributed to my entertainment!" He chuckled darkly. "But don't worry, you'll join them soon enough… in the afterlife, if such a thing even exists for worthless vermins like you. HAHAHAHA!!"
The lord laughed, and the other armed magicians laughed too.
The man froze, and as he heard the terrible truth of his family and village's fate, his blood started boiling. His family had been murdered, and now he was the final piece of their cruel game.
Rage built up inside him as he cursed them inwardly. However, he wasn't able to keep all his rage inside and so he let it out.
"YOU BASTA—!!!"
But before he could even voice his fury, the lord smiled and casually gave him a backhand slap, which blew the man's head away and left behind a headless body, spurting blood like a fountain and painting the area with blood.
"Hmph, an inferior dares speak back to me?"
Scoffing in disgust, the lord turned toward his men and stood before them while clean his hand with a white cloth to wipe out the blood of a dirty monkeign.
"Everyone!" he commanded, "Kill the men and capture the women! We could use them as sex slaves and sell them into the Slave Union market later on. Today, we revel!"
Hearing this, the magicians grinned savagely. Without hesitation, they charged into the village, storming houses and searching the surrounding woods. The men were cut down where they stood, while the women were dragged away while screaming through the once-peaceful village.
The lord, basking in the chaos, turned his gaze toward the scene behind him, where a woman knelt by the body of her lifeless child with a fisheye, mentally broken.
The lord smirked and walk toward her before grabbing her by the arm and forced her onto the nearest table. She screamed loudly, but to the lord, they were only the soundtrack of his conquest.
All around the village, similar horrors were happening as all the humans were powerless to resist.
Men were tortured and murdered. Women were sexually brutalized. And the magicians laughed and cheered, caught up in their monstrous spree.