Captain Sander's Treasure

Over a thousand Kobolds in the sparsely populated Westfall already counted as a massive army. Fortunately, they were only Kobolds; if they were humans, an army of a thousand would have been enough to carve out a territory and establish a minor faction.

Shawn took the lead, charging into the Gold Coast first.

The Domesticated Sow was clad in solid steel armor, charging like an armored vehicle and sending over a dozen Murlocs flying with the impact. Riding on the sow's back, Shawn unleashed a pre-prepared Arcane Missiles, which struck a Darkscale Oracle with precision and sent it to the afterlife.

Then, Shawn squeezed the sow's belly. Ignoring the Murlocs rushing in from both sides, the Domesticated Sow charged straight across the battlefield and plunged into the vast ocean.

Yes, Shawn had no intention of participating in the great war between the Kobolds and the Murlocs. His true objective was to cross the vast ocean and reach a small island less than a kilometer away from the Gold Coast. Because on that island lay a treasure Shawn desperately wanted.

That was...

Captain Sander's treasure!

Captain Sander was a famous navigator who owned a sturdy merchant ship. He had traveled throughout the Eastern Kingdoms, done business with the Goblins of Booty Bay, and discussed grand visions of future navigation with the elites of Southshore.

However, during one voyage, his merchant ship struck a reef at the Gold Coast of Westfall, and he was buried in the Great Sea.

It was said that Captain Sander had left behind a massive fortune, but no one had ever been able to find it. Although Captain Sander had left clues regarding the treasure, those clues were far too cryptic.

In the game, only after completing a series of quests could one find a treasure chest on a certain island. That chest contained a silver bar, a gem bag, a belt, and a shirt—that was Captain Sander's treasure.

However, that was in the game.

Shawn did not believe that the treasure left behind by a famous navigator would be limited to just those items.

He believed that the treasure held other, far more precious things.

Therefore, he had come.

Because he already knew the exact location of the treasure, Shawn skipped the tedious journey of discovery and swam directly to the small island where the treasure was hidden.

It wasn't Shawn swimming, it was the Domesticated Sow...

Yes, the Domesticated Sow could swim, and its technique seemed quite decent...

Upon reaching the island, Shawn searched around and successfully found the treasure chest.

Although the chest was locked, Shawn had no intention of following the rules to pick the lock; he simply smashed it with a hammer, and the lock broke.

Opening the chest, a "just as I thought" expression appeared on Shawn's face.

Indeed, the silver bar in the chest had become gold bars—one had turned into ten—the gem bag was filled with jewels, and the belt and shirt had rotted away beyond use...

Beyond that, there was a ring emitting a blue glow!

Picking up the ring, a satisfied smile appeared on Shawn's face.

"Captain Sander's Return Ring, Blue Quality, Rare Equipment. Strength +5, Stamina +8."

"Captain Sander's long voyage required more than just a sturdy ship; it required great strength and persistent stamina. Wear it, cherish it, and always believe: Captain Sander shall return."

Shawn did not believe that a human who had been dead for who knows how long could return to this world.

Even if he did return to this world, this ring would no longer belong to him, but only to Shawn.

Shawn swept the chest clean, put the ring on the pinky finger of his left hand to match the Ring of the Arcane Saint on his right pinky, then vaulted onto the sow and returned to the Gold Coast.

The battle at the Gold Coast had just entered its white-hot stage.

As two of the most populous intelligent races on the continent of Azeroth, the number of Kobolds and Murlocs participating in this battle had reached a significant scale; there were a great many of them.

Especially the Murlocs.

There were at least several thousand Murlocs along the entire Gold Coast. Although the Gold Coast stretched for hundreds of miles, preventing most of the Murlocs from rushing over to join the fight, the number of Murlocs currently engaged was at least two thousand.

Although the average combat power of the Kobolds was inferior to the Murlocs, and the Murlocs held the home-field advantage, the Kobolds were launching a sneak attack—a real sneak attack!

In the first wave of the assault, the Kobolds took the lives of at least three hundred Murlocs.

Then came the endless melee.

Real war was completely different from children fighting. Whether in numbers or combat intensity, it was entirely different.

This was a war where every blade drew blood; every attack ended a life. It was cruel and sorrowful.

"BIU! BIU! BIU!"

The Kobold Shaman and the Murloc Sage and Murloc Oracle were playing a friendly match, with one casting Fireball and the other Frostbolt, blocking balls with arrows and arrows with balls.

Occasionally, they would get carried away and forget to watch their backs.

When the Kobold warriors rushed behind the Murloc Oracles, even the most powerful Murloc Oracle could not withstand the assault of iron swords and axes.

Kobold warriors and Murloc warriors traded hammer blows and axe swings, the flash of blades and the clashing of weapons made of scrap metal composing a discordant and harsh symphony.

The spells of the casters would also frequently strike them, causing great disruption to their combat.

An hour later, the battle finally reached its conclusion. As expected, the Kobolds' raid failed once again. More than half were killed by the Murlocs, and the remaining half, as the effects of the Kobold War Horn gradually faded, succumbed to the instinctive fear that followed their fanaticism and began to flee in the opposite direction.

At this very moment, the cunning Gryan Stoutmantle had already led his one hundred and fifty fully armed soldiers to wait at the only path the retreating Kobolds could take.

As a commander, individual combat ability was not the most important thing; the most important were the ability to boost morale and the ability to command a battle.

As a veteran commander, Gryan Stoutmantle certainly understood this well.

"In the name of a captain of the Order of the Silver Hand! In the name of the Sentinel Hill Watchman! In the name of the commander of the People's Militia! In the name of Gryan Stoutmantle! Exterminate the Murlocs!"

Gryan Stoutmantle wore a gleaming Lightforge set, held a shimmering Truesilver Champion, and rode a warhorse that glowed with yellow light, casting various blessings upon every soldier as he radiated holy light.

Rite of Blessing!

Blessing of Kings!

Enveloped by various blessings, the one hundred and fifty soldiers, each robust and fearless, charged toward the fleeing Kobolds.

Each man shouted his own name, or the name of his father or ancestors, or the name of his wife or lover, or any other name that came to mind. These names bestowed upon them strength, granted them the courage to charge, and gave them the hope of victory.

Led by Gryan Stoutmantle and bolstered by his blessings, the one hundred and fifty soldiers were like starving wolves as they tore into the Kobolds, who were even more helpless than lambs.

In just a few breaths, the Kobolds were slaughtered to the last, leaving not a single one behind!

Gryan Stoutmantle brandished his Truesilver Champion and bellowed, "Do not stop! Do not covet the rags on these Kobolds! Do not linger here! Everyone, pursue the Murlocs! If we do not wipe them out, they will remain a threat to Westfall forever!"

Old Gryan commanded great authority, and the soldiers obeyed his every word.

With eyes burning red and spirits soaring, the one hundred and fifty soldiers charged into the Gold Coast.