Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

The jungle was being cut down, every single day, every single night, regardless of the weather, regardless of how many dirt-bloods fell, the deforestation continued without, barely ever slowing down as a result of the efforts of the elves.

And there was a new problem, the dirt-blooded leader could spot the elves laying ambushes, after the scout had been slain by a javelin, their focus and wariness reached a new height, they had always been exceedingly careful, taught from infancy that being afraid was a good thing, that it would drive them toward living, steer them away from an early grave.

But even then, they had been too complacent, one of their own was spotted and swiftly murdered before he could even react, his body was denied a proper burial, and instead dragged away, to be devoured whole by the very monster who had killed him, worst of all, she gloated about it, provoking them.

Had she stayed silent, they would have at least been allowed to hope for the best, but that had been torn away from them, and infuriatingly, they were explicitly told not to engage the dirt-blooded leader directly.

It made sense, the malformed, partly elvish creature was powerful, perhaps not as strong as those considered the strongest of the community, but definitely a few notches above the average elf, but still…

Retribution should befall the foul being nonetheless.

The elf groups had to be bore careful, and always on the lookout from now on, the one capable of spotting them spent her days perched atop a small tower on the edge of the dirt-blood camp.

That camp had grown and evolved quite a fair bit since the beginning of the invasion as well, under Litrakq command, it had become a twisted, bulging mass, a true stain in the environment.

Once just a large piece of land surrounded by a wooden palisade, shallow trenches and filled with tents of varying shapes and sizes, but now, it had grown truly awful to look at, using the wood and materials gathered from the jungle they were tearing down, they were erected countless poles, towers and the likes, stretching beast skins and large pieces of fabrics in between them, creating a rugged, dome-like structure over the whole camp.

The elves didn't get to ask the dirt-bloods why they were doing this, but the reason seemed obvious, to obstruct the vision of the elves atop the mountain and prevent them from firing as they saw fit, they couldn't see much, and thus, couldn't carefully pick their targets.

Unwilling to waste their powerful arrows, they could only sit back and wait to act against those outside the camp instead.

Litrakq remained concealed under the shade of that abominable structure, moving from tower to tower every so often, looking awfully smug as she knew very well that the powerful elf atop the mountain could do nothing against her unless they came down.

And the way she was standing in plain sight of those on the ground, it almost seemed as though she was baiting for one of those powerful elves to try something, whether it was a bluff, or if she actually had a plan in mind, no one could tell, not even her soldiers were in on it.

But there was definitely something abnormal about Litrakq, from the perspective of the elves, they were disturbed and felt uneasy when looking at her, it was bizarre, half of her face looked like that of a true elf, and frankly, that half was actually rather good-looking amongst elves at that, but then, there was the other half, bloated with meaningless growth of flesh that stacked atop one another in a most disgusting manner.

Sweat and filth got trapped in between the flaps of flesh, and every-so often, they could see her have to run a handkerchief to clean those disease nests.

The patches of blonde hair were long and splendid as well, and overall, although always wearing a dark armour that concealed much of her features, one could tell that her body was not ridden with deformities, or at least, not ridden with any malformations that got in the way of her capabilities.

A week after the scout's death and subsequent defilement, another accident occurred, a group of elves was carefully approaching the dirt-blooded soldiers, aiming to deal some damage for another group further away to take advantage of.

As per usual since the loss of a fellow, they were exceptionally wary of Litrakq, but reading that monster woman was simply impossible, ever since she had feasted upon the scout, she had been strangely upbeat, almost playful.

The dirt-blooded soldiers were terrified, and the elves had chills running through their spines.

Currently, as Litrakq often did, she had her bowstring drawn, an arrow nocked, and she was seemingly aiming at random.

She did this dozens of times in a day, at first, the elves had been scared to be aimed at, and they were still wary, but they knew that now that this did not mean that she had actually spotted anyone.

If one paid close attention to the commander's mouth, they would even notice that she was softly humming a song to herself, albeit no one dared to say it aloud, her soldiers thought that she actually had a pretty nice singing voice.

"...Be careful little eyes, what you see…"

The groups of elves were getting into position.

"...Be careful little ears, what you hear…"

They each nocked an arrow.

"...Be careful little tongue, what you say…"

Their breath slowed, their muscles focused.

"...Be careful little hands, what you do…"

They pulled on the strings of their bows, ready to let go.

"...Oooo, be careful, very careful…"

Any moment from now.

"...Be careful what you-"

Litrakq's gaze suddenly hardened, and with surgical precision, she moved and aimed into the jungle, the arrows swiftly imbued with her conjoined fighting spirit and mana.

"-Die for"

The arrow was sent soaring through the air, the elf the arrow was aimed at noticed what was happening earlier than the rest, her attention had not completely left the dirt-blooded leader, but still, the sudden and utter switch in just about everything caught her off-guard.

To the point that it seemed impossible to tell whether Litrakq had been acting the whole time and had noticed them a while ago, or if she had only just noticed them now and simply reacted instantly.

The target elf shot her arrow straight for the one heading for her, but the projectile easily overcame the obstacle, enhanced by a great amount of energy.

The elf was left with no choice but to raise both arms, shielding herself as the arrow pierced through her right forearm, and then her left forearm, before the arrowhead came piercing through the throat, but only just barely.

It was not lethal.

However, the energies upon the arrow were not only here to enhance it…