Blood Elf Monarch

The barbarian tribes had been at war with the Arcadians for so long that one would have to check the books to remember when it started. The history and feud between the two different parties could be traced up to 4000 years ago.

Separated by the Great Sea, the Arcadians were established on the West, while the barbarian tribes were situated on the East.

The only land that connected the two was the Chaotic Plains, which was located down south.

The orcs had infested and occupied most of the land on the south, the only way for the barbarians to fight the Arcadians was by the sea, which was no small matter.

Even though the barbarians were great seamen, with the limited transportation methods they had, coupled by the unpredictable sea with its violent waves and terrible storms, it had proved to be difficult for them to launch a massive invasion successfully. This fact was further strengthened by so many failures they attained throughout the river of time.

In time, the barbarians had also opted for a different path. Attempting to eradicate the orcs that populated the Chaotic Plains. If they managed to accomplish this arduous task, then the path to the land of Arcadians would be cleared, and it would allow them to freely launch invasion at any time.

Alas, that was if it happened.

When the barbarians were about to succeed their endeavor, the Arcadians would always appear at the critical moment and join the fray to help the losing orcs. Hence, they failed the campaigns.

The Arcadians' help was obviously to keep the barbarians stuck on their own territory, to stay across the sea.

This kind of hostility had been going on for so long, but no peace had ever been created between the two. That was mainly because just like the orcs, these barbarians loved to fight.

These barbarian tribes were fighting and waging wars for one purpose, to answer the call of their forefather. In their culture and belief, it was considered as a great honor to join the cause and die on the battlefield.

"Fucking bunch of lunatics!" cursed Tristan loudly as he bumped his fist to the wall of the house Karra provided for them.

"Fucking hell! These kinds of people are the hardest type to deal with!" raged Trison after he had extracted all the valuable information that Astrid held.

Hearing the story made Tristan understand more about the situation, as if the fog of war was cleared in front of his eyes, allowing him to see the crux of the matter.

This was probably the reason why the mayor would send help and why the orcs could trust humans to help them in their fight against barbarians. This was all because it already happened too many times before, and it would continue to do so.

It also seemed to be the reason why there hadn't been any real war against the orcs, even though the Arcadians hated the orcs as well. Sure, there were some skirmishes here and there, but none of them could be counted as war.

This situation made Tristan recall one famous saying from Earth.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

For Tristan and the group, their situation remained the same after the battle. They were currently stuck within the fort until it was rundown by the barbarians or until the promised reinforcement came to help. Either way, they could only wait for now.

"What should we do, Tris?" From her tone, Tristan could tell Layla was extremely worried.

"We will find a way, sis. Don't worry." replied Tristan in his attempt to calm her down.

At the same time, his brain was running at full capacity, trying to think of ways to deal with the problems at hand.

Tristan was never the type that would place his faith upon someone else. That was the case back on Earth, and he planned to do the same here as well.

He would not pin his hope on the incoming reinforcement. Hence, he would need to prepare the others for the next battle.

From the information he pried from Astrid, the next attack would come with a number that was many times the previous one. But that didn't mean that the barbarians would storm the fort with their entire forces.

She believed that an orc fort with less than 200 fighters in it would only get the attention of two or three captains at most. And with each captain squad numbered around eight hundred to one thousand warriors, that was around one to three thousand barbarians.

That was an astonishing enemy size and the reason why Tristan cursed so loud earlier.

Fortunately, Astrid leaked a lot of valuable information about the barbarian troops. She gave a convincing reason, even details on which tribe and which captain would be deployed to the fort Tristan and the others were currently stationed.

Astrid also claimed that she was one of the brightest strategists of the tribe, which literally meant she got a high access to information. Hence, her confidence in the accuracy of her statement.

Seeing the brown-haired woman, Tristan was secretly very impressed. Not towards the woman, but to his [Blood Seal] skill.

He still remembered the hateful look the woman had as she saw her two men roasted to death. And here she was, energetically blurting out valuable info about her people with each passing second.

"This is what a freakin' OP skill should be. An overpowered one indeed." Tristan thought to himself while nodding his head at the latter.

Now that he already knew what they would be dealing with, next was to make the best preparation to welcome their incoming guests.

First, just to be sure about it, Tristan told Astrid to return to her people, to the enemy camp. He wanted to know the exact number and time of the next attack. Receiving Tristan's instruction, Astrid nodded and quickly left to be on her way.

Other than to affirm the intels, Tristan actually wanted to know the extent of his skill as well.

Would his influence over the woman waver when she was far away from him? That was what he wanted to know. Hence, her return or disappearance would clear Tristan's curiosity.

Next, Tristan went and came to Karra as he wanted to know the number of their current forces; those who survived the previous battle and also the ones that just joined from the other tribes.

[Gretchin : 68]

[Grunts : 147]

[Champion : 2]

These are a very sad numbers. With the death of the grunts and one to the orc champion, They were only two thirds of their previous force. While the enemy would come in three or even five times the previous number. This meant that the orcs would be fighting a 10 to 1 battle, and that was not a good thing.

Therefore, Tristan decided that things needed to change. First, was the fort defence. It would be very stupid for him to not take advantage of defence the fort walls provided and attack the barbarians from behind them.

Tristan remembered some parts of them that would need to be fixed and most importantly the gate's mechanism that was inoperable.

He noted that point in his mind as there was not much reason in defending behind the walls if the gate was unable to close and was left wide open.

Tristan asked if anyone from the group had any idea on how to fix the gate's broken mechanism. Unfortunately, his question was only answered by shaking heads as none of them had the necessary skill.

Tristan then turned over to Karra, looking at her before throwing his gaze somewhere again. He was pretty sure the orcs had no idea how. Otherwise, they would have fixed it already.

Unexpectedly, Karra had a solution to the matter.

"Follow me" said the female orcs

Even though unconvinced, Tristan still followed her as they went inside the keep and walked on the stairs that went downwards. They walked past the smelly and dirty dark ground when they suddenly heard a heavy voice echoing the hallway.

"You!! Who's there!! Anyone!?"

Before Tristan could ask, Karra apparently took him towards the voice. When they arrived, he finally realized that this particular part of the dungeon was the place where they held prisoners. In short, a prison.

When Tristan approached one of the cells where he could hear the voice coming from, he saw three short figures with huge heads and large beards. Their appearance reminded him of one race that would always be mentioned in fantasy-themed books, the dwarf.

One of them looked at Tristan directly in the eye and said,

"An elf?! Help! Please! Put some sense to those crazy greenskins! Let us go! We will be forever grateful "

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