Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

The marksmanship of the elves was nothing short of extraordinary, their knowledge of how to craft bow and arrows that could allow them to leverage and multiply their already incredible strength was extensive.

The bow was their main weapon of choice, as soon as a young elf was old enough, they would begin to practise, from the top of their mountain, they could see the monsters- The dirt-bloods as they were called.

They could see them clearly, take aim and fire with incredible precision, using their connection to nature to read the winds and ensure that they would hit their mark every single time without fail.

In the beginning, they had quickly realised that the trollish or ogrish lumberjacks possessed potent regenerative capabilities on top of being equipped with heavy armour, so the elves had quickly begun to dip their arrowheads into venom and collections of toxins.

Although they were not as talented as their fellows who inhabited the great poison swamp and the toxic lake in the regard of poisons and alike, they were still well-furnished thanks to the jungle, it served as an habitat to palm-sized frogs coated in a toxin capable of killing an elephant in just a few minutes.

Even with their incredible resilience and regenerative powers, the lumberjacks were slain swiftly, and for more than a month, it seemed like the enemy had given up on this strategy, it was natural, it was such a foolish and mindless one, that even the humans had never even tried to go that route against them.

And yet, as they were rounding up beasts to form a beast tide, the lumberjacks, giants in heavy armour, moved forward once more, they looked exactly the same, the exact same armour, the exact same axes.

'Are they that stupid?' more than one elf thought these exact four words upon seeing or learning of this occurrence.

And so, they went to firing arrows once again, it wasn't like they were ever going to run out, they could produce arrows by the hundreds in very little time with all of the resources available to them.

So they did not hold back, and destroyed the armours once again before hitting the lumberjacks with toxic arrows- Somehow, only one lumberjack died, the rest kept doing like nothing happened, they regenerated and the arrows were pushed out of their bodies.

"Use more potent toxins!" said one of the elves, and it was indeed effective in slaying the lumberjacks, and following this, another two weeks passed, they sent a beast tide at the monster camp, but it was far less effective than they would have hoped.

The camp was well-defended, nothing a small beast tide could shake, the elves would have to assemble a much larger one to deal any damage, but in the jungle, they weren't exactly swimming in beasts that had direct confrontational strength.

Their region was far from being a good one to create powerful beast tides.

And when the lumberjacks came back, they once again had to increase the strength of the toxins they coated their arrows with, this cycle was clearly doomed to repeat itself over and over again, the dirt-bloods had figured out how to grow resistant in a short amount of time!

They didn't know how their enemy was managing to pull something like this off so swiftly, this wasn't the first time invaders attempted to counter their tipped arrows in such a way, but the toxins they used weren't just source from a single creature, they mixed into unique, stronger concoctions, proof was that it could kill monsters with the vitality of trolls and ogres in just a few moments, growing a resistance to such a thing was done over a lifetime and in extremely small doses, not a month, or a handful of weeks.

The elves from this mountain had earned a strong resistance themselves across multiple generations, but even they wouldn't be able to handle the doses they inflicted upon the lumberjacks.

So they had to consult with the local leader, who just so happened to be a senior mage as well.

He was old, but he still looked youthful, although the elves of this realm weren't as long lived as some of their fellows outside of it, they could still live for more than a century without problem, longer than that if they were particularly powerful or strongly in tune with nature.

The leader was approximately two-hundred and fifty years old.

Which was rather impressive.

As the leader of the mountain, he was the most knowledgeable about the local toxins, he had yet to personally intervene, after all, this place was known to be basically unassailable, and the other elves knew what to do without needing to be told.

The elf leader stepped near the edge of the mountain, garbed in green, flowing clothing that matched the colour of the jungle's vegetation, having been born upon this mountain after many generations, his appearance was different from that of the average elf, his skin resembled tree bark, and his eyes held a small hint of bright colours, the kind you would see on certain frogs, a sure sign that you should ignore them.

His blonde hair also seemed somewhat greenish, this was a result of the elves' connection to nature, certain groups of elves that had settled down in areas with a strong identity would see themselves grow with each passing generation to more closely resemble and match their surroundings.

This also deepened their bond with nature in the area, allowing them to bear an innate understanding of the forest and environment even if it were to change, this was also what allowed them to manifest beast tides, it was because they shared a link to the beasts and wildlife.

Immediately, as he looked over the horizon, discerning the details even from so far away, something- Or rather, someone immediately became the focus of his attention.

Naturally, it was Litrakq who attracted his gaze, it was unmistakable, that foul dirt-blood possessed elvish heritage, a rather rare thing as very few elves had been taken when the monsters made their desperate rush back then, most of the abducted had been humans.

So for a dirt-blood of today to show such strong signs of elven blood was surely incredibly rare.

The elf leader could not know how exactly the enemy had figured out how to become resistant to the jungle's toxins, but he was certain that it had to do with that monstrous woman.

His gaze lingered upon her, and soon enough, she stared back at him.

And he could have sworn… That for a split moment… There was a hint of noxious colours in her eye…