Blood Elf Monarch

Multiple offensive spells are being charged towards his general direction like a rain of bullets, and just behind them, the elven warriors were ready to strike at any moment.

As much as a part of him wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness in front of him, there was nothing to joke about. At this moment, this is literally a fight between one man against one whole city-, no, as a matter of fact, he is fighting against the full might of a kingdom.

The first thing Tristan decided to do was create two widespread but thin constructs using his blood synthesis. He quickly threw the constructs towards Serene and Astrid.

The construct whizzed close to them and expanded, covering them both like a big blob of bloody cocoon. He believed that the construct would be enough to block all tier 3 weapons, while tier 4 weapons would have quite a difficult time piercing them.

It should be enough to give him some time and peace of mind while he had to fight against this unending wave of elves.

With the aid of his upgraded Katra, he could sense there are around 500 elf warriors, fifty nobles, nine elders, and last but not least the bastard prince of Forlorn. Those are the opponents he needed to face for a shot at freedom.

His train of thought was interrupted as the spells and arrows started to hit his body followed by the first batch of warriors behind them.

It was at this moment seeing a wave of threats coming at him that instantaneously the urge for killing once more emerged from inside of him. It was as if the requirement for a certain skill has been met.

The new skill that he once saw within the blood elf's memory.

[Blood Legacy]

[1000 blood essence]

1000 doesn't seem that much of a requirement for a most likely powerful skill, but unfortunately, from what he could tell from the bits of memories he recalled, the skill was not that simple.

[Blood Legacy activated]

He could not stop himself from grimacing, as half a dozen elves stabbed him with their weapons. From spears, longswords, and even a greatsword, they all stick out from his body as if he was a macabre pincushion. Blood started to seep out from the wound.

Seeing their attacks connect, the elven warriors were grinning, and the blood dripping along their blades only stoked their excitement more. It was quite a lot of blood…

In fact, more blood spilled than what they expected.

Before they were able to realize what was going on, the blood gushed out like a small explosion from the wounds. The blood on each weapon hardened, before rushing forward and piercing all six elves' bodies.

They were stabbed almost all over his body, and some even had crystals of hardened blood piercing their eyes and mouth. One of the elder elf, who stood the closest to him, quickly cast [Oak Flesh], covering his body with a protective layer similar to tree bark.

The elder sighed in relief as the explosion didn't manage to hurt him.

Unfortunately for him, the attack did not end there. The elder elf was stunned silent as he saw blood kept on spilling from Tristan's wounds. It even seeped out from his unbroken skin and covered his body, creating a human figure fully made of blood.

Tristan himself couldn't even comprehend what was going on around him, as he was in a partial trance mode. Since he used the skill, the control over his body was not fully his, and a part of his mind was controlled by the urges that had been buried deep inside.

It was a deep, primal urge that kept on repeating the same sentence, like a mad cultist trying to impart  a mantra.

"Slaughter, slaughter, slaughter them all."

His body was bashing the red liquid into layers which turned into a mass of red, pulsating muscles. Sharp bladelike claws replaced his finger and toes, and his covered face started to gain a set of huge teeth crammed inside a jaw too wide to belong to anything but a monster.

With the new, enlarged form, Tristan felt huge amounts of energy building up inside, and the monstrous strength of his new form started to overwhelm him. His mind was no longer truly in control, as he roared in bestial rage and grabbed the elven elder who was trying to escape.

His enlarged body allowed him to just grab the elder like he was a ragdoll and twist the man's body like a butcher would twist a chicken's neck. The poor elf could only cry out in agony before he died with his guts squished out of him.

Tristan wrung the elder's body which dripping with blood and the satisfaction he felt served as a fuel to make him wanted to scream out all his rage

ROOOOAAAARRR!

He stepped forward without hesitation and faced the next incoming elven noble. There were no thoughts, no tactics. He merely pulled back his hand and threw the largest punch he could muster.

BAMMMMM!

The punch smashed the elf's face in and threw him back a few meters, before his corpse hit the wall with a sickening splat. Blood dripped down the walls, and the elf's corpse slid down with it. When he fell, the elf's face was completely unrecognizable.

Such a scene quickly struck fear into the elves who were previously rushing toward him. Everything came to a complete stop, no one dared to take another step.

"What are you doing?!" The Forlorn prince shouted, his rage evident on his twisted face. "Attack him!"

Though he was enraged, his face became paler than before, for he was unable to accept the strength Tristan had shown him.

But nothing could convince his forces. They were truly chained by complete hesitation, and hundreds of elves were rooted to the ground. They could only stare at the hulking monster who slowly walked towards them. Some even took a step back, a terrified expression clearly etched on their face.

Tristan, on the other hand, was still conscious just enough to not let them have any chance to escape. He took a powerful leap and landed in the middle of the crowd of elven warriors.

Even his steps managed to crush one of them right away into a fine paste of blood and useless guts.

The elves all ran a few steps back, unsure what to do, avoiding him,

Nothing but pure terror could be seen in their expressions.

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Written by Avans, Published exclusively by W.e.b.n.o.v.e.l,