For more than 400 years, the goblins tried different strategies. Sometimes, they sent smaller units- either small teams or a lone goblin at a time. Other times, they deployed rge warbands or multiple squads with wide spag to ehat if one was wiped out, others could still advance.

  They alterheir approach at different times- one party during the day, a night.

  Sometimes, they waited for months or years. At one point, even several decades, hoping something would ge. Other times, they became preoccupied with the Primordial Dragon and harpies, or the lizardfolk decimating their numbers.

  It wasn’t easy- they were pincered between flying predators on one side and an unfivi oher.

  The Dark Elves were also highly skilled. Their swiftness uhe night sky, their superiht vision, and their spellcasting abilities gave them a signifit advantage.

  There were also only so many pces to hide in the desert. So, they stayed close to the Oasis during the day, while at night, they hunted ritually.

  Unfortunately, like all things, mistakes happen with time. As simple as missing a shot- with magic or slings- or a Samander slipping and taking a rough tumble. The goblins were just as fast as the Samanders, making such acts disastrous.

  These errors accumuted, and after four turies, the goblins had finally smartened up.

  Some, not g for their bodies, buried themselves in the sand, waiting for an opportunity. Their warbands would be massacred, but those who survived long enough reported back.

  Sometimes they were caught, sometimes they weren’t.

  But the Dark Elves’ luck had finally run out.

  At st, the goblins had found their home.

  ---------------------

  When the first dwarves left during the first tury, the ohat arrived on the Eastern ti were immediately hunted by the Bck-Scaled Primordial. Out of fear, they fled back toward the sea again, but were far less fortuhe sed time and died.

  The others who reached the Western ti did not immediately enter the Green-Scaled Primordial Dragon, allowing them to establish a settlement with retive success. However, their progress was hindered by the ck on’s Breath, which had been crucial to their advas.

  Upon the year 478, the first Primordial Dragons and their lesser terparts desded upon the Eastern ti.

  They were, however, met with the unfiving and skill of the Bck-Scaled Dragon, whose wrath had simmered for turies.

  Using his harpy subordihe Bck-Scaled Primordial massacred the newly arrived dragons. The lesser dragons that survived were scattered across the ti, and from their suffering, a deep hatred for harpies was born.

  Meanwhile, the mountains of the Western coastline had bee a graveyard. Dragon scales, Primordial remnants, and other untold treasures- artifacts that would likely remain undiscovered for turies beyond- littered the terrain.

  ---------------------

  Ats frowaking another swig of his beer.

  "Oracle won’t work sihey’re scattered... That bastard is a pain in the arse." Grumbling, he set his beer do a nearby sole and rotated his view.

  His expression turned grim.

  "The goblins will be there within the day, and Primordial Grey is too far away."

  Pulling up the Species sole, he pressed the -Upgrade- button on the Dark Elves tab.

  A sed interface popped up.

  -----

  -Upgrade Target--Upgrade Scope------

  Ats rotated his globe and zoomed in on the Dark Elves, on Myra, celebrating a with other Dark Elves.

  "Will lightning ripple through the cave if I use oracle on her?"

  Wisp responded promptly. "It will take the form of what they believe in the most. For the Dragons, it was the sky and lightning. The Dark Elves will be different."

  Nodding, Ats pulled up the -Oracle- and prompt o the -Upgrade- s before pausing.

  Forty-five divinity left. And he was about to use ten more of this precious resource.

  ---------------------

  Meanwhile, the Dark Elves remained blissfully unaware of their approag doom. They were celebrating the birth of two new children- one of whom bore the Red Mist eyes.

  After 478 years, the Dark Elves finally gave a unique o those who resisted.

  Sahir Tenebris, Sorcerers of Darkness.

  The title was granted in reition of their superiipared to the regur Dark Elves, and their belief that this power, when trolled, was in fact a blessing. Their standing, rgely thanks to Myra’s sistent efforts, had shifted for the better.

  Myra cradled the newborn child in her arms as the mother wept tears of joy.

  Her own children, Xanveris and Xelvanya, had grown well, dispying many enviable feats during the hunts. It was something this mother now looked forward to witnessing in her own child.

  "I will teach her well," Myra said gently, careful not to disturb the baby now slumbering quietly. "She will grow to be a powerful Sahir."

  "About time there was ao help shoulder the burdens," Xanveris, her eldest son, said as he returned with an araid's shell, carved out and filled with steaming stew made from various as.

  "Too many bugs for me to kill alone!"

  "You mean us," Xelvanya retorted, crossing her arms as she watched him idly. "With this one, after we’ve trained her, we expand with less risk to our people."

  "We could’ve expanded long ago," Xanveris argued, using a scorpion's leg as a makeshift fork to jab a piece a. "The others are just too scared."

  Some nearby Dark Elves gred at him.

  Myra shook her head. "Don’t be disrespectful, Xanveris. There is good reason to be cautious."

  "You’ve let the Tenebris get to your head," Xelvanya teased with a smirk.

  Xanveris gred at her but gave a wry smile iurn.

  "What? It’s true," she said. "You ’t win fights without it."

  "Do you want to test that theory?" he growled, pointing at her with the jagged leg.

  Before it could escate further, Myra interrupted.

  "Enough," Myra sighed, carefully returning the baby to her mother. "This is no time to fight. It is a time to celebrate. We-"

  As Myra’s voice rose to annouhe start of the celebrations, gasps filled the enclosure. Dark elves stepped baervously, their expressions shifting from joy to unease.

  The mother's eyes widened, and Xelvanya immediately moved to help her retreat.

  Myra looked fused at first, sing the enclosure for the source of their arm- until her gaze drifted downward.

  Her eyes widened in shock.

  The Red Mist, the source of their power, was rising from the grouh her.

  It swirled around her like a storm, creeping into her eyes as her body rose a foot off the ground, stiffening unnaturally.

  "Mother!" Xanveris cried out, attempting to approach. But the Red Mist’s aura pulsed with power, thid suffog, repelling him before he could get close.

  The Oracle had been delivered.

  Her body suddenly dropped, and she colpsed onto the ground, gasping for air.

  "Mother!" Xanveris cried out again, rushing to her side. Myra clutched her chest, her posure shattered- her wide eyes unfocused, breaths uneven.

  "Are you...okay?" Xelvanya rose slowly, watg her cautiously.

  Myra’s gaze snapped up, causing the gathered dark elves to recoil nervously.

  "The God of Tenebris has spoken to me," she said, her voice trembling. Uneasy gnces were exged among the elves, but Myra pressed on.

  "We are about to be invaded by the green-skins!" she decred, her voice shifting and tightening with urgency.

  Xanveris helped his mother to her feet, but scoffed in disbelief. "Impossible. We've kept them at a distance for over four hundred years!"

  Still leaning on her son, Myra's gaze sharply moved toward Xelvanya, who stiffened unsciously uhe sudden iy. "Send out a party east. Do not engage, return immediately."

  Without hesitation, Xelvanya sigwo other dark elves, both of whom hesitated but nodded, gng at Myra uneasily before departing. Unditional trust built up over turies.

  Xanveris watched silently as his sister vanished before his gaze returo his mother. "Zark will be back soon from the Arae hunt," he said, his tone cautious. "You should-"

  "There is no time," Myra cut him off, pushing herself upright. "I o go outside. God will grant me power for this battle soon."

  A tense siletled over the surrounding elves. The spectacle was undeniable, yet the cims still felt too outndish.

  She had been blessed before, yes. But God? In these accursed nds?

  Ign the doubt in their eyes, she turoward the exit.

  Xanveris spoke urgently to one of the dark elves.

  "Find Zark. Return with haste!"

  ---------------------

  "Not as gmorous," Ats ented, feeling a little disappointed. "I guess that’s to be expected, sidering their history."

  He watched patiently as Xelvanya rode off with two other dark elves uhe harsh desert sun toward the goblin horde, while Xanveris caught up with his mother.

  His eyes drifted to the simple message he had written.

  "

  I am God, the source of your powers.

  You have doo survive over the turies. However, now, I e bearing ill news.

  An army of ten thousand green-skinned goblins is approag. The offspring of the Corrupted Dark Elf Selena, cast out turies ago.

  With your numbers and power, you ot hope to win.

  I will grant you strength, as a reward for surviving this long. To protect your people now, and from this day forward.

  Do not let the Darkness e you.

  "

  'I wonder how they receive it... Just a wall of text they uand, or do they hear a voice?' Ats mused, his thoughts lingering on it for a moment before returning to Myra.

  She stepped away from the others, away from the Oasis, into a barren ndscape. Her hands csped together, and Ats grinned.

  "Time to see what one Chaos gene point do for this lucky- or unlucky- person!"