TitoVillar
patreon
OPI Chapter 328: In the Shadow of War
🕑 Added 2025-04-07 02:08:24 +0000 UTCAjil sat on the sofa in the captain's office, sipping his steaming hot coffee. When he heard the soldier rush in without knocking, he immediately showed a displeased expression.
"Report!"
However, his nearly century-long composure prevented him from reacting harshly. Without raising his head, he issued the command in a flat tone, lacking any emotion.
"Speak."
"The lookout has spotted a large number of flying machines controlled by barbarians, located ten kilometers north. From their flight path, it seems they're heading straight for us!"
Among the Elves, not only did they possess telescopes, but they also had individuals specialized in using 'Far Sight' magic to scan the surrounding airspace.
"Hmm?"
Ajil looked up in surprise, quickly setting his cup down.
By the time he reached the second deck of the warship, his soldiers were already in a flurry of activity, as the situation had arisen so suddenly.
"What's all this panic? Stand at attention, now!"
Ajil barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. At his command, everyone instinctively halted, their movements freezing as their gazes snapped to him in unison.
"Listen to my orders!"
"Dragon riders, establish two defensive lines ahead. All cannons, load ammunition immediately and prepare for battle. Activate the ship's shields, and Madhav, sound the highest level of alert. Request support from nearby patrol fleets as soon as possible!"
A nearby Elf, draped in a green cloak, quickly shouted in response.
"Yes!"
"Yes!"
The orders were swiftly carried out, and the previously chaotic atmosphere settled into a well-coordinated state. The Elves' expressions began to calm down.
On the other side, fifty Elf knights riding wind dragons split into two groups as per Ajil's command.
Twenty were assigned to the first defensive line, and thirty to the second.
Soon after.
The first line of Elf knights saw blue flying machines hurtling toward them at high speed.
"Such speed!" one Elf exclaimed in surprise.
"Hmph, the speed's impressive, but it's still just machinery. Our dragons are wind dragons. When it comes to comparable speeds, we’re certainly more agile!" another Elf knight responded coldly.
"How dare those barbarians attack our Elf kin! They have some nerve!"
"Take them down!"
"Charge!"
As the distance between the two sides closed rapidly, the Elf knights could no longer hold back. They urged their wind dragons forward, while casting their respective magic on the dragon's back.
Unlike humans, they didn't carry wands. Most Elves wielded finely crafted longswords.
Some Elves, however, fought barehanded.
Yet, when their bodies emitted green light, five or six sharp blades would emerge from their clothes, floating around them in a slow, menacing circle.
At that moment.
The enemy planes launched the first attack. As the pilot inside the cockpit pressed a button, the 'Thunder Gun Missiles' hanging from the aircraft's wings shot out with a trail of flame.
"What is that?"
"Who cares what it is, intercept or dodge it!"
The Elf knights shouted, reacting quickly. Some ordered their wind dragons to unleash fierce whirlwinds, while others directed their dragons to focus on evasions and used their long swords to cast fire blasts.
[Boom! Boom! Boom!]
In an instant, the sky erupted in a series of explosive fireballs. Some missiles were intercepted by magic and exploded in mid-air, while others, guided by the aircraft's onboard radar, successfully locked onto an Elf knight.
Thanks to Dr. Stylish from the Teigu World, they had one more surprise to deal with.
His advanced technology had allowed these fighter planes, which were stuck in a World War II- era design, to benefit from 'modern' technology long before they should have.
The wind dragons of the elven knights didn't give the fighter jets a chance to fire a second round of missiles.
Thanks to their equal speed and superior agility, they swiftly closed the gap, forcing the pilots to immediately pull the trigger.
In an instant, the large-caliber machine guns mounted on the fighter planes began spitting bright flashes of fire.
The torrent of bullets struck the wind dragons before they could evade, tearing bloody holes into their bodies. If the elven knights were unlucky, they met the same grim fate.
Screams from both the wind dragons and the elves echoed through the air.
On the fighter planes' side, they suffered casualties too. In the intense "close-quarters combat," it was inevitable that the wind dragons would tear at the planes’ wings or that various elven spells would destroy them.
But then...
[Poof—]
An elven knight, who had just destroyed a fighter plane and was proudly grinning, suddenly felt a sharp pain in his throat. He looked up to find a blue-clad barbarian standing before him.
The cold expression, the lifeless stare, and the bloodstained fingers slowly retracting were the last things he saw before darkness claimed him.
Why?
This elven knight could never understand what had just happened. How had the flying machine he destroyed allowed the enemy to appear before him?
The answer was simple: every air force pilot was trained in at least the Moon Step and Finger Gun techniques. Some elite pilots even mastered the Shave technique.
This was where the Starfish World Air Force soldiers separated themselves from others: even if their fighter planes were destroyed, they still had the ability to protect themselves in the air and continue to fight.
"Aah!"
At that moment, the wind dragon beneath him sensed the change on its back. It immediately noticed that the reins had been pulled again.
This made it instinctively quiet down, unaware that its rider had changed.
"Charge!"
"Go!"
The thirty elven knights, seeing only twenty or thirty fighter jets, quickly urged their wind dragons to charge into the fray.
But as the battle raged on, they were horrified to realize that every time they destroyed a fighter jet, an even more troublesome opponent appeared in its place.
"Poof—ah!"
"Why, why can they fly?!"
"When did the barbarians learn the magic of walking through the air?!"
The air force pilots, who had lost their planes, didn’t care about the elves’ screams. They calmly stepped on the air beneath their feet and pounced upon them to kill.
"Watch out for their explosive speed magic! Quickly shield yourselves with Wind Balls and then use your flying swords to deal with them!"
One elven knight shouted urgently.
The elves, due to their long lifespans, received a more extensive education than humans. They were not a foolish race.
After losing several of their own knights, they began adapting to the Moon Step, Shave, and Finger Gun techniques.
They quickly devised countermeasures.
As expected.
When layers of rapidly spinning Wind Balls surrounded the wind dragons and their riders, the air force pilots could no longer get close. They had to rely on their Moon Step and Shave techniques to awkwardly dodge the incoming whirlwinds and flames.
Naturally, the casualties started to rise.
"Captain!"
"More are coming from that direction!"
Suddenly, one of the elven knights screamed in alarm. The elderly elven knight turned and saw a swarm of black dots flying toward them from the distance.
His eyes widened in disbelief as he murmured, "Is that... the Feathered Tribe?"
...
At the very top, on the twenty-second floor of the Khasbah Tower, where the Elf Council convenes.
The space is entirely open, and the brilliant sunlight spills into every corner.
However, the temperature inside isn't as scorching as expected. It remains at a comfortable level, occasionally cooled by a gentle breeze.
The area is vast, with six-tiered stone platforms rising on either side, each seat occupied by an elf cloaked in green. Their appearance betrays no obvious age difference.
“What? The Feathered Tribe?!”
At this moment, an elf in a yellow cloak kneels on the ground, urgently addressing the chairperson, Lyuk, who stands behind the central podium.
“Yes, Captain Ajil, who made first contact with the enemy, did indeed report seeing many members of the Feathered Tribe among the barbarian fleet!”
“But how could that be? Although the Feathered Tribe's dislike for the barbarians isn't as strong as ours, for thousands of years, they've, like us, refused to interact with them!”
A member of the council standing on the left side of the platform shouted loudly.
“Enough!”
Another elf, sitting on the right side of the platform, stood up and barked, “What’s the point of discussing this now? Whatever the reason, once we defeat them, we'll know everything, won't we?”
Seeing this, the previous speaker dared not say another word.
This was no ordinary council member, but one of the three ruling officials, Aismayiru, who, alongside the chairperson, Lyuk, was known for having the worst temper.
Aismayiru ignored the elf and turned to Lyuk, proposing, “Chairperson, since the Feathered Tribe has appeared among the barbarians, relying solely on the peripheral patrol fleets won't suffice for long. I propose leading the council’s guard to intercept them!”
Lyuk, of course, had no reason to refuse: “Alright, then the front lines are yours!”
“It’s only right,” Aismayiru replied, and a bright green light radiated from his body. His expression was cold, and amidst the raging wind, he soared upwards like a rocket, charging towards the sky.
At the same time, about forty council members summoned wind spirits to follow closely behind.
They were all loyal followers of Aismayiru, part of the most arrogant faction of the elves, who also harbored a deep disdain for humans.
Every year, they would propose or support a war against the barbarian nations, aiming to utterly destroy those who followed the 'demon' faith.
Thus, the battle prowess of these elves was unmatched.
They had no interest in the arts or knowledge, which they deemed useless, and were solely focused on swordsmanship and combat magic.
Fortunately, the majority of the council consisted of elves who disliked war.
This is why their proposals were always voted down.
But now, the remaining council members exchanged looks, their eyes filled with unease. The barbarians had taken the initiative to attack, which meant there was no stopping the war between the two sides.
And war meant death!
The elves had long lifespans and youthful bodies.
In terms of food, they favored fruits and vegetables, and although they lived in the desert, their magic ensured they never lacked sustenance, making their living conditions relatively comfortable.
Their population wasn't large either, as elves could only reproduce once they reached full maturity, around the age of sixty.
And typically, they could only have one child. If a second child was born, it was worthy of a celebration.
So, it's no surprise that they didn't want war!
But how dare the barbarians attack? And is the Feathered Tribe involved too? Are they seeking death?
Though these elves didn't want to fight, they understood that only sufficient force could protect their peaceful lives.
Thus, they made full use of their long lives to focus on researching technology and advanced magic.
While the barbarians still relied on wind-powered wooden ships, the elves had already deployed iron warships with large-caliber cannons.
They even inscribed 'rebound' magic spells on their ships, using wind stones as energy, making their ships far faster and more agile than the barbarian fleets' magic warships.
An elven warship could easily take on five or six barbarian ships, and if operated well, could defeat even more.
The elves also had vast reserves of 'fire stones'.
It could be said that the elves had the power to wage war against any human nation, yet they chose to stay peacefully in the Sahara Desert, knowing full well they didn’t need to fight unless absolutely necessary.
This is also the reason why humans, despite their deep hatred for the Elves, have not dared to take any direct action for thousands of years.
Because they simply cannot win.
Therefore, they could only continue to demonize and vilify the Elven race, leading to the current human fear of the Elves. In legends, the Elves are often portrayed as incredibly evil and bloodthirsty beings.
After a moment of silence, an Elven council member spoke coldly.
"Hmph, since the barbarians have made the first move, let's fight. It seems they’ve forgotten the strength of our Elven race. Chairman of the Council, I suggest we open the Firestone Vault, check how much stock we have, and prepare to deploy to the battlefield at any time!"
"Mm."
The chairman of the council, Lyuk, nodded expressionlessly from the podium. Though usually calm, there was now a hint of anger in his eyes.
Meanwhile, in the farthest reaches of the Elven Kingdom, above a certain oasis, a series of spiral fighter jets and Elven knights riding wind dragons engaged in fierce combat. Occasionally, one could see the wreckage of a fighter or a bloodied wind dragon crying out as it plummeted.
Elven masters, surrounded by fierce winds, manipulated numerous flying swords that glowed green to engage in fierce battles with Air Force majors, who had wings or could transform into large birds or insects.
Though the Elven warriors practiced regularly, they had not encountered war for thousands of years and had lived in peaceful environments.
Some of their usual sword techniques, magic, and theoretical knowledge might not be enough in real life-or-death combat.
But the Air Force majors were different.
They had all come from the Navy, where they frequently fought pirates on the seas. The fact that they had survived to this point was a testament to both their ability and luck.
Now, as members of the Air Force, the battlefield had shifted from the sea to the sky.
In recent years, the conquests of the other worlds and the policies of the world government had ensured that they were not only proficient in various breathing techniques and extraordinary physical arts, but their equipment had also been upgraded significantly.
They even had various emergency pills and small firearms hidden in their coat pockets.
Under these circumstances, after a brief skirmish and adjusting to the Elves' magical effects, they began to show cruel, cold smiles.
Though they had no way to deal with the battle ships protected by 'rebound' barriers for now, the wind shields of these Elven knights couldn’t block their full-force attacks.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap Strike!"
An Air Force major with white wings suddenly transformed into a flash of golden lightning, slicing through the Elven knight behind him, along with the wind shield and the wind dragon beneath him, splitting them in half instantly.
"Though our superiors told us to go easy and try to capture them alive, you don’t seem like weaklings. Whether you survive or not depends on your luck!"
"After all, this is war, otherworldly Elves..."
