Blood Elf Monarch

This fight was such a one-sided fight and his stage three body was of no help. The golden sword pierced his body and caused such excruciating pain Tristan had to bite back his screams.

"Aaaarrggghhhh!"

Unable to take it anymore, Tristan screamed and tried to push out the blade with all of his strength. Before he was able to make any progress, the Aesir pulled out the sword, and Tristan kneel to the ground.

The wound on his chest was gushing so much blood it made a small puddle on the ground.

Layla almost screamed in panic, and she was about to run up towards Tristan, if the just-healed Astrid didn't hold her down from behind.

The pale man walked closer, the edge of his golden sword so close to Tristan's throat. One swing would be enough to end his life right then and there.

Although he was in a bad situation, Tristan didn't even waver one bit. He looked at the Aesir's eyes with a gaze full of hatred and defiance.

The pale man stopped a few steps away from Tristan and stared at his head deep in thought, before using the tip of his golden sword to touch Tristan's hair and set it aside. He stared intently at something behind the parted hair, lowered his sword, and pressed its tip towards Tristan's chest instead.

"You are not completely elf… Who did this to you?"

Tristan merely let out a pitiful gurgling noise. Thanks to the sword, his lung had collapsed, and it was hard for him to breathe, let alone talk.

Splat!

The Aesir stabbed him one more time with a cruel smile.

"Tell me, elf, what are you really?"

This time, the Aesir raised his blade and let the tip touch Tristan's throat. The metal felt cold to the touch, and before he managed to control himself, a shudder went down his spine.

"Release me!"

After struggling for a while, Layla managed to press down her elbow near Astrid's stomach, causing the woman to release her. With nothing to keep her away, Layla tried to shoot a barrage of energy bullets from the ground.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Even though the bullets hit the Aesir's body repeatedly, it was like trying to whittle down a gigantic rock with the help of a tiny breeze. The pale man was merely pushed back a step, and rather than scream in pain, he gripped his knuckles in annoyance.

"Don't interfere, you annoying girl!"

Tristan took a deep breath with all his remaining strength and screamed. "Layla, no! Back off!"

The Aesir was about to pull his sword from Tristan's body, but he gritted his teeth, swallowed his pain, and grabbed the blade of the sword with his hand. He held on tight, even as his fingers started to bleed, and grabbed the Aesir's wrist with his other hand.

"Don't you fucking dare hurt my sister!"

Smoke started to rise from his body, and the air became more suffocating as heat spreads through it.

[Heat Touch]

[25 Blood Essence used]

"Aaaaaarrrrgh!" This time, the Aesir screamed in pain.

Tristan's sacrifice bought them an opportunity, and Karra shouted to her two champions

"Gesh'nuka! Ash'no!"

The three of them jumped forward with their blades gripped tight, ready to fight to the death for the chance to finish the man. The three of them charged at the same time.

The pale, skinny man didn't even bother to dodge. He merely stood still and let the weapons hit him.

Clang! Clang!

Dust rose from the ground thanks to the force of the three's attacks. But when it cleared, their weapons only manage to make a scratch.

"All of you are annoying fools!"

The Aesir raised both his hands, and the glow surrounding his body turned into a bright light enough to blind everyone nearby.

Booooommm!

A force was sent out into all directions, throwing Tristan, Karra, and the two big champion orcs at least 10 meters back. The force was so strong, even those that are a bit far away were pushed back as well. Though some managed to stand due to their strength, most of them fell to the ground.

The Aesir raised his golden sword and walked towards Tristan.

"I'll cut your head first, and I will find out what you are from your corpse!"

One step, two steps, the Aesir approaches him. Tristan's vision however was blurred and he felt disoriented, but he still retained enough vision to see something blocking the Aesir's way.

A few seconds later, his vision cleared, and he saw a girl with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes glaring at the pale man.

"You will not hurt him."

"Layla… No… Please, get… back!"

Tristan coughed, spitting blood onto the ground.

That last attack was enough to cripple him and send waves of constant pain all throughout his body. Without wasting time, he quickly concentrated to use his self-restoration skill.

[500 blood essence used]

Right after the notification, Tristan could feel energy starting to course through his body again. But he knew that deep down, no matter how strong he currently is, he wouldn't be fast enough to protect his sister.

The Aesir dashed forward and disappeared before reappearing in front of Layla. He lifted her off the ground by the neck, causing the girl to start clawing at his hand.

"No, Wait, Wait!! I'll tell you all I know, just don't hurt her!"

Oddly, the Aesir did nothing, he merely stared at her in curiosity.

"You… You aren't hurt even after I used spirit explosion? Why?"

The pale man let a little bit of energy coalesce in his pointer finger, before pressing his finger down Layla's forehead.

"What the fuck are you doing to my sister?!!" Tristan pushed through his pain and wounds to stand and take a battle stance. Right when he was about to dash forward, he heard the sounds of wind from the sky. It seems something was moving at high speeds up there.

Tristan looked up, alongside both barbarians and orcs. To their shock, there was a huge flying structure made of steel hovering in the air.

From the looks of it, it was a flying ship that was a bit bigger than the one that goblin Cursaac had used.

The ship revealed its weapons prepared to fire when its huge back door opened and dozens of figures in white uniform jumped out of the plane.

The Jarl shout out "That's the Arcadian Kingsblade!!"

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

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