Few gnolls had escaped the battlefield at Krim Fortress, and fewer than one in ten had made it back to the swamp alive.
Before returning to his divine realm to deal with the Godslayer's harassment, the Lord of the Hunt had given one final order to the thugs who had charged the battlefield to attack the Wolf God: fight to the death and never retreat. Most of the gnolls had faithfully carried out that mission. Those berserk bastards had kept fighting even as death stared them in the face.
In particular, during the brief time the Lord of the Hunt had descended into the material world, the leaderless gnolls had even launched a counterattack, forcing the exhausted Su to personally bless the soldiers and spur them on.
However, the god's fall immediately afterward had an immeasurable impact on his followers.
Especially when the Scepter of God struck the Lord of the Hunt, and when the evil god's body collapsed, the roars and despair were reflected in the minds of every thug. Then the spiritual world sensed by the god fell into deathly silence. From that moment on, they could no longer feel their god.
And so they knew their god was dead.
Then, just like that, it was over.
The resolve bolstered by the god's encouragement collapsed into panic when the god vanished. Once the wild influence imposed by the Lord of the Hunt had completely faded, the same scene that had unfolded at the lord's position played out on the battlefield in the dark.
They scattered.
Within minutes of the Lord of the Hunt's fall, the entire battlefield had turned around.
The gnolls, ferocious and invincible one moment, became dogs with their tails between their legs the next. They dropped their weapons and fled without warning, shouting strange, panicked