"There are more orcs joining the fight!"
"How?! Why would those orcs fight for them?!" A barbarian with a black eyepatch shouted.
"Jarl Utsu, our lines are trembling!" Another barbarian wearing armor lined with fur hurriedly added.
"That man… no, that elf leading the charge in the middle, he was very strong!"
"Jarl Utsu, Fixen's tribe will not last at this rate. Please, allow me to join the battle!"
Despite his subjects' pleas, the Jarl merely shook his head in silence without offering an explanation, much to their fury.
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The heat of the sun felt scorching against the simple leather armor they wore, and Tristan found himself swiping his brow every so often. He performed his deadly blade song in the middle of the battlefield without fear, captivating his allies and striking horror deep into the hearts of his enemies.
