Hugheson just left.
It was hard to say whether the guy had really admitted defeat, or whether, after witnessing the miracle of Cadman City returning from the Astral Plane to the Material World, he'd realized this operation had failed and slipped away early.
Either way, Hugheson's choice at this moment wouldn't have a direct impact on the course of the battle. He hadn't taken the mad gnolls with him. Still driven into a frenzy by the Hunting Lord's wrath, they continued attacking the defenders' line, trying to reach Old Su and accomplish the grand feat of slaying a god.
But the succession of miracles had already sent the defenders' morale soaring across this frozen, snow-covered wasteland of ruins.
Especially when Cadman City's hundred thousand Astral nomads, young and old alike, charged into battle under the leadership of the vampires, who were howling and shouting "For Grand Duke Triss!" through the city like a churning flood. Not only the gnolls, but even the numerous Astral wolves sensed that things had taken a turn for the worse.
An army suddenly gaining another hundred thousand fighters was a terrifying shift in any war. And these weren't just any fighters—they were a hundred thousand Transian barbarians strengthened by the Astral Plane. It was like piling on while they were already down!
The gnolls couldn't retreat now.
The Hunting Lord's furious roars rang through their minds. Hugheson had refused to fulfill his duty as a Chosen One twice in a row that day, which had made the evil god suspect something was wrong. But Old Su's weakness was real.
The Hunting Lord couldn't afford to give up this opportunity, no matter what.
Old Su no longer had the support of his divinity. He'd briefly fallen from the North Wind God's status back to that of