Blood Elf Monarch

Tratatatatata!! Tratatatatata!!

The unceasing raucous sound of the machine guns that echoed through the air like a series of thunder claps. Simultaneously, a shower of bullets was raining down on the battling barbarians.

If one had the ability to see from the sky, they would be able to see the barbarians were dying at the rate of leaves falling during the autumn season.

With each round of fire, at least a dozen barbarians would die. The flying ship hovered in the air, turning and maneuvering its massive frame through the sky while shooting at the barbarians on the ground.

Even so, the group was still overwhelmed by the sheer amount of barbarians jumping at them. It was obvious that there were simply too many barbarians for one ship to handle.

While the ship was doing its best to deliver destruction onto the barbarians, Tristan was currently in a complete state of surprise as he watched the dozen white uniformed people called the Kingsblade. Each of them without exception had the capability to wreak havoc amidst the dozens of enemies before them.

One would throw a fireball that was similar to that of Herrera, but two times bigger and twice as many as she could throw in one sequence. One could cast a lightning chain that was the same to those humans that he fought in the Cursaac's place, grilling dozens of barbarians simultaneously.

One could turn its skin into some kind metal that none of the attacks hurt him as he bulldozed through the rows of barbarians, sending them up and to the ground. Another interesting one threw the dagger in her hand, and a split second later, her body arrived at where the dagger landed like a teleportation.

These dozen people could stand by themself and hold one side of the barbarians. Hence, Tristan decided to help the orc side that were almost overridden.

Without further due, he immediately jumped into the fray and once again began swinging the claymore in his hand, reaping lives left and right. The orcs who saw Tristan's performance became even more fired up as they followed the lead of their chief.

The battle continued to rage on for a few more minutes, and the orcs were still able to hold their ground against the unbroken waves of barbarians. Then, suddenly, when Tristan thought that the situation finally turned better for them, a strong rumbling could be felt coming from the northern hill.

Hearing the rumbling, as if he knew what it was, the Jarl suddenly became excited once more.

"Jarl Torsten's men are here!! Rise up, my warriors!!! Victory is ours!! Don't let even one of them escape!!"

Shifting his gaze over to the north, Tristan noticed there were at least a few hundred barbarians coming from the north. However, through his enhanced senses, he noticed that these barbarians looked weary. In fact, they looked even worse than those who were currently fighting right now.

The newly arrived barbarians stopped for a moment looking at the battle. The orcs and the others on Tristan's side thought they would join the conflict when they suddenly made a detour around the battlefield and kept running towards the south.

Looking at the display, Jarl Sigurd shouted in unveiled rage.

"TORSTEN!! Where are you going!!?"

The said person who was getting shouted at seemed to be deaf as he continued to run at an even faster pace.

But then, it did not take too long for him as well as everyone on the battlefield to realize that these barbarians were actually running away from something.

Another rumbling could be heard from the north; a bigger, stronger, and louder one.

A moment later, Tristan could clearly see hundreds of armored cavalry units all in silver armor marching through the northern hill. They swiftly galloped across the plains, chasing the rearguard of the fleeing barbarians and killing them mercilessly. To put it simply, it was a stampede of trained soldiers.

Seeing the sight, Jarl Sigurd screamed in rage as he knew he had to retreat. Continuing to stay and tussle with Tristan's group would only spell fruitless death. Hence, he blew on his warhorn.

"Aaaarrrgghhh!!"

The frustration and resentment showed deep within that scream. Jarl Sigurd glared at the blood-soaked Tristan with hatred. "I will not forget this elf!!!"

When the barbarians retreated, it signified the near end of the battle.

There were some of the orcs who went ahead and chased the fleeing barbarians, but most of them stayed behind, catching their ragged breath.

Tristan himself was tempted to chase the running Jarl. However, the concern he had for his sister stopped him from doing that. He was too worried to leave his sister too far. Moreover, he also did not know the intention of those Arcadian fighters.

A group of cavalry units rode towards Tristan's group, and he spotted a familiar figure among them. Barry.

Barry told him that the Mayor's ships were held by the barbarians in the sea, and the Mayor told him about the coming cavalry units. He proceeded to introduce Tristan to the cavalry commander who rode next to him.

Hearing Barry's words, the commander seemed to be observing Tristan from top to bottom. After a while, he finally opened his mouth.

"You are Tristan? The elf from Erantell City?"

"Yes I am.."

Tristan noticed the commander glanced at his companions before looking back at him.

"The mayor of Erantell is looking for you.. S-"

Before the commander managed to finish his words, the lady in white uniform interrupted him.

"The mayor will have to wait."

The words spoken made the cavalry commander turn, and when he saw the uniformed lady he quickly gave his respect.

"The elf will be going with us." continued the lady.

Tristan stared at the lady and said, "As much as I appreciate the previous help, I would like to know what you want and where we are going."

Tristan's words made the lady stop her steps. She turned around and replied to his question.

"Sir elf, you are coming with us to see the King"

Now that his presence is known, Tristan did have an interest to see this so-called king. 

Still, Tristan did not accept the lady's invitation straightaway. The orcs still had to be taken care of, after all.

"I will go with you. But I need you to guarantee that they will be safe." said Tristan while pointing his finger at the group of surviving orcs.

The white uniformed lady gave a few words to the cavalry commander. Then, she returned to Tristan, "Don't worry, it's been taken care of. The knight will take care of them."

Finally, it ended - a simple orc camp eradication quest which somehow turned into a full-blown war was finally over.