While doom approached, the Horunans were frozen in terror. Their gazes lay disbelieving on the unmoving body of the dragon. Fachdar had been the guardian of the forest and worshipped like a deity by the villagers. Tears streamed from the children’s eyes while the mothers pulled on their arms and dragged them into the houses. Some of the young men and women of a fighting age armed themselves with every kind of tool that would make a good weapon. Others recited magical incantations for a barrier that should protect the village. It reads as follows:

“By the powers of the earth, let grow a wall that shield us from great sadness. Shirakaba.”

As soon as the incantation stopped, the branches of trees in the vicinity knotted into a great wall that surrounded the village. The Horunans were aware that this kind of protection would not last forever. It simply delayed the beginning of a fight they deemed hopeless.

The soldiers outnumbered them. For every villager, no matter their age, came at least three heads.

The king of Terra, Ledanjo, knew exactly how many soldiers were needed to wipe all Horunans from the face of the earth.

Before Ledanjo’s reign, demons and humans lived together in harmony, but he sowed the seed of envy and fear in the humans. Unstoppable hate against all magical creature was born.

Swords met the thick wall of branches. With every blow, it thinned out. Still the Horunans were not ready to give up. More incantations were recited and the roots of the trees broke through the ground and wrapped around the ankles of the horses. With a jerk, they pulled horse and rider to the ground. Those that did not react quickly enough were battered by the roots, pulled into the earth or strangled. Although it would help their victory, the sight of gruesome death made some Horunans vomit, even lose their will, were they usually of such peace-loving character. The short wavering was enough for the first riders to break through the wall. The screams grew in number, but this time on the side of the Horunans, who could not hope for the same compassion.

The battle raged deep into the night. As the Green Moon lit the village, all Horunans of a fighting will had fallen. Who now thought, the battle was over, was wrong. The demons concealed in the houses, tried to hide or flee into the depths of the woods through self-dug tunnels. But even that was mostly for naught. The soldiers did not want to leave any traces of their deeds behind and burned down the whole village. They combed through the forest and killed every refugees they came upon. One could hear the screams of the inhabitants of the last earth demon village for miles.

Not a day passed during which another village did not fall. Humans intruded ever deeper into the Levita Federation. It would take another moon until the biggest and last battle of the War of New Blossoms would take place. The battle of Blyndeye. After which demons were thought to have finally been wiped out.