Elven Slaughter

"Over here!"

Dozens of elven troops began approaching the two, their faces covered in blood, and eyes stone cold.

"This is interesting," murmured Gray as a few elven troops began drawing their bows.

"Atta-"

*stab*

Gray threw a crimson red throwing knife at the elf who was about to give the attack order, confusing the other elves as to what had just happened.

The elf in question began spasming on the floor. Although the knife had punctured his throat, his death wasn't instant. Unable to scream for help all he could do was let the blood bubble out of his throat as he held onto it tightly.

"So they do bleed red," commented Gray, shattering the strange silence that had overcome the battlefield.

"Don't touch them, they're all mine," smiled Gray, before drawing out his long sword and rushing towards the group of elves.