Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

The first volley from the strongest elves of the mountain had been meant as a warning, to spread a sense of fear and unease through the dirt-blooded ranks, but the elves underestimated their enemy on that front.

Most dirt-bloods, despite working as loyal soldiers under the Verfolger, a group of undeads, did, in fact, fear death very much, it was simply in their nature as flawed beings, as livings- But when it came to the fear of death, they were more afraid of going against the orders of their superiors, especially Litrakq in particular.

She had a bit of a reputation, if you didn't follow orders or dared to question the new corpse overlords, you would be in for a world of pain before execution, which would be framed as a 'demonstration of the error of your ways'.

Although being shredded by arrows was frightening, the monstrous soldiers preferred that to the alternative, so despite the show of strength from the elves, the enemy did not slow down their efforts in the least, if anything, things were accelerating as the commander shouted orders constantly.

The elves did not understand the tongue used by the dirt-bloods, but it was pretty clear that whatever she was saying was effective, the lumberjacks were swinging their axes until they were nearly collapsing from exhaustion, whenever soldiers would be slain in ambushes, they would be immediately replaced, and whatever remained of the slain soldiers would be devoured by their comrades without even a shred of sympathy for the fallen.

As the days passed, the tides seemed to shift constantly, on certain days, the elves would fail to stop any lumberjacks from doing their duties, and on other, the deforestation project would not move forward at all, and as time passed, the strategies employed by the elves were changing a little bit, at least, atop the mountain new things were being put in place.

The leader, alongside all of the other elves capable of wielding mana, would come together and connect to nature to unleash attacks upon the invaders, these attacks took the form of natural phenomena, earth quakes, turbulent winds, dust storms… But the most prominent of these were heavy rain, and thunderstorms.

For it not only got in the way of the tree cutting, but also helped the elves in the jungle to stay better hidden, no matter the weather, they stayed adapted to the environment, this was their home, whilst the enemies, instead, were burdened, their visibility reduced.

And sometimes, the rains would get so violent, that dirt-blooded soldiers could die in droves before anyone noticed and the order to send replacements was given.

Unfortunately, the elf mages could not constantly call upon these great powers, they not only channelled magic, but called upon the powers of nature as well, and nature could not be wielded as one saw fit, when it decided that no more rain was to fall, that was the end of it.

Today however, the rain was heavy, and the sound of thunder rolled over the jungle.

As per usual, despite the weather, the invading soldiers were still hard at work, their commander refused to bow to the whims of the elves, no matter what, if it was possible to be doing something, then they would be doing it even if the sky was falling.

Litrakq herself was standing tall upon a platform, an archer tower that had been erected in anticipation of possible beast tides in the future, ever since the first one, they had not had to deal with any other however, so this tower had merely served as an observation post since its creation.

The commander was just standing upon it, being drenched by the heavy rain as she stood still, a javelin in her hand, lying upon her shoulder as she was scanning the jungle, visibility was absolutely awful, she could honestly barely see a thing.

Even the figures of her own soldiers were hard to discern, she only knew that it was them thanks to the link that united all dirt-bloods together.

However, what her eyes could perceive wasn't what mattered right now, the longer she stayed here, the firmer her connection to the jungle was growing, she had previously used the unique connection to the environment and its toxins to find ways to swiftly make her lumberjacks resistant to the local venoms and poisons, and now, she was starting to feel something else.

She was beginning to earn an understanding of the jungle, of its layout, of how to traverse it with ease…

Litrakq looked mildly bored.

"Commander… Are you sure you don't want to go into your tent? What if you get sick?" a worried soldier asked from below the small tower.

"I am certain" she simply replied clutching the javelin firmly, her expression did not budge.

It was impossible to tell at first, but now, she was seeing it.

Movement, the elves here, they had natural camouflages, their skin was like the bark of the trees, their hair held a greenish tint that replicated that of the vegetation, and they dressed in ways that only further accentuated this natural camouflage, they stealthily, swiftly, even when they attacked, it had been impossible for her to catch even a glance, they had been like ghosts, vanishing the instant they launched their attack.

Not anymore.

One of the trees, further into the jungle, looked normal at a glance, a branch was striking out, and rain was falling in excess, but the bark… There was something about it that was not right, it seemed more pronounced that it should, like there was an abnormal growth on it.

This was an elf, knees bent as they held a bow, overlooking their surroundings, a scout deciding where it was safe to strike, and checking if any lumberjack was vulnerable to an ambush.

That elf had no idea that someone had noticed their presence.

Carefully, Litrakq readjusted her hold upon the javelin she held, her fingers tapped upon its surface as her body moved, getting into position, her joints cracked as she had not budged for several hours, but she ignored anything that she did not need to know.

Reeling her arm back, eyes wide open as rain drops continuously came slamming down all over her, water was displaced as her feet moved, sending the accumulated rain flowing down the tower.

And in the next instant, the javelin pierced through the rain, the world illuminated as lightning struck in the distance.

When the elf noticed something was amiss it was too late, the scout turned their head to the side, seeing the javelin for a split second before it reached them, stabbing right through their chest and heart.

The elf let out of pitiful sight before going limp, body slipping down the branch and crashing down amidst the dense vegetation.

"...Someone go fetch me my prey, I think it's time for dinner"