Blood Elf Monarch

Tristan is much faster and stronger, in his hands he had a special weapon that could slash through any of the opponent's weapons and armor. The barbarians stood no chance against him.

The 2 meter tall weapon had turned into a killing machine. Each swing scattered corpses all around its wake.

Within minutes, even the bravest and the strongest of the barbarian warriors lost their nerve and unconsciously distanced themselves from the demonic elf

"Charge!" Tristan shouted, while mowing through the unfortunate center line. The Jarl was visible now, he was standing behind a few layers of yellow-clad barbarians forming defensive lines.

-

From the other side, Jarl Sigurd realized that his captains must be influenced by the enemy's inhumane spell, it was such a devastating blow to him, even more seeing the way the battle has been orchestrated as such. It took him a few moments before he composed himself.

Years of battle experience under his belt told him that the first step to deal with this was to calm his army and stop the confusion. He sounded his warhorn, rebuilding the line close to him and slowly moved towards the right flank. 

With the current condition, he could not save all of the armies, therefore he quickly made the decision to cut off one side to save the other.  He chose the right flank as the 'red paw' tribes appear to have more superior numbers.

Despite the chaos, the process went relatively smoothly, a testament to his skills as a commander. Slowly but surely, he managed to pacify those fighting in the right flank and undo the confusion.

After those fighting on the right side were pacified, the Jarl ordered his army to capture Eric The Red.  It wasn't an easy feat, but with a decisive order and thanks to dozens of his strong personal guards, this task was quickly achieved.

With the Jarl's success in pacifying the right flank, the battlefield was now split into two.

The right side was filled with the yellow and red warriors battling the orcs that came from the fort.

Meanwhile, the other side has the yellow warriors fighting with the blue ones led by Akon, the captain under the blood seal influence.

Quickly counting his chances, there were only two options for the Jarl. Either retreat and regroup to adjust their strategy or continue the battle under a disadvantage.

The previous defeat they had suffered made the Jarl especially reluctant to retreat, considering he had also touted how easy this battle was going to be. 

However, he is a veteran. He understands the importance of army morale in battle, and right now, if he still wishes for victory, he has to take down the damned elf that wreaking havoc in the center of the battle. For each minute the elf stands, the closer they are to total annihilation.

The Jarl instantly formed a group of archers and a group of his best blue tatoo warriors.

"Fire!'

He pointed towards the general area The elf stood.

There was no hesitation, even as the rain of arrows pierced the heads of his front soldiers and killed them instantly. It took the death of a dozen barbarians for the arrow to even land on The elf's arm.

"Keep firing!" The Jarl roared.

Another rain of arrows, another dozen of his own warriors pierced to their deaths, in exchange for two more arrows piercing The elf's body.

The elf started to bleed, and the Jarl took it as a cue to send in the group of blue tattooed warriors.

-

"Aaaaaaarrrrgh!" 

It was not a scream of pain for Tristan, it was out of irritation. The arrows hurt, but it was more of a hassle than anything. He decided against pulling it out, as he didn't want his wound to bleed even more, He settled on splintering the arrow sticks before fighting again.

Two dozen blue-tattooed warriors had arrived to stop him. Though they were not strong enough for him, their main advantage was their speed and their method of attacking in groups. The moment Tristan managed to split one apart, another managed to pierce Tristan's back with his spear.

Fortunately for Tristan, his elf body has proven to be very reliable. These wounds don't worry him.

He was not afraid of dying, nor did he feel panicked at the prospect of being surrounded. On the contrary, each attack from the blue-tattooed warriors only made him even more pissed.

More of the blue-tattooed warriors came charging towards him, and the battle turned up a notch for Tristan. He smiled an unsettling, wide smile, before tackling one of the incoming threats.

He dodged and attacked, each movement calculated and precise. However, he realized that he was unable to move the way he wants it. He found it difficult to maximize the full strength of his body.

The weapon he had was magnificent, but as he lacked the proper knowledge to use it properly, it merely became a strong weapon in his hands. With his lacking skill, the blue tattooed warriors started to gain ground against him.

They swarmed and attacked him together, leaving him without any room to dodge. With each kill, the rest battered his body even more. He believes he had killed more than two dozen of those annoying tattooed warriors. But they seem to keep coming for him.

Tristan was finally cornered with his body filled with many wounds. At these moments, several hurried footsteps and shouts can be heard from the side.

Tristan glanced at the source of the noises, and saw a figure coming to help him. It was Karra, the female orc.

Karra swing her bloody glaive and cut the nearest blue worried that came to Tristan

"Chief! We came to help!!" She turns around and shouted "Lok'Tar Kazreth!"

Behind her was the orc champion, it quickly grabs one of the surprised blue warriors and split it apart

"Graawwlll!!!"

With their arrival, came the orc grunts, and they started to join in the effort to protect Tristan. The assistance allowed him the few seconds he needed to collect himself, regain his wind, and continue fighting.

More blue warriors died, and Tristan glanced at the place where the Jarl was last seen standing, only to find the place already empty. It seems the Jarl took the confusion of battle as his chance to quickly leave the battlefield.

Thoooeeeetttt!

The war horn reverberated throughout the place again, but this time, it was a signal to retreat.

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