Sain

Kalei watched from the rear, dumbfounded. Damn it, the strength of these two women was simply terrifying; the arrows they loosed were not only fast as lightning and pinpoint accurate, but their power was comparable to the sniper rifles of modern weaponry.

Was this the Kill Shot of a Marksmanship Hunter?

No, reality is different from a game. In reality, archers have no such thing as a "Kill Shot," only techniques like flat shots, parabolic shots, rapid fire, concussive shots, movement shots, silent shots, and multi-shots.

Based on Kalei's observations, the two women had likely employed two high-powered techniques—Concussive Shot and Silent Shot—combined with explosive arrows infused with magical power, which resulted in such formidable destructive force.

The other Night Elf, apart from the four under Arenia's command, had not expected the archery skills of Arenia and Jinli to be so terrifying, and they began to cheer one after another.

Yet, even as the crowd was shocked and delighted, there was not a trace of joy on the faces of Arenia and Jinli.

Right amidst the cheers of the crowd, the two powerful Furbolg Berserkers did not collapse as everyone had expected.

Two black-green rays of light flew out from behind the Furbolgs and landed upon the two Berserkers.

The flesh and blood at the wounds of the creatures, which had been on the verge of death, began to squirm and heal at a speed visible to the naked eye; within a few breaths, they stood upright once more, their scarlet eyes burning with even greater murderous intent.

The distant, echoing roar from behind the Furbolgs sounded again, and more Furbolgs charged forward, plunging the battle into a stalemate once more.

Seeing this, Jinli spoke in a rare, serious tone: "It's Rejuvenation. I didn't expect the one leading this group of Furbolgs to be a Furbolg Shaman. This Shaman is very powerful, and I fear he has more tricks up his sleeve. I'll go out and take him down; you're responsible for holding off these two Berserkers."

Arenia nodded and said, "Fine, go. I'll be waiting for your good news."

The two were not the type to waste words; once a decision was made, they took action immediately.

Jinli jumped off the back of her Saber and patted the neck of her mount. The next second, her figure suddenly blurred, and she vanished, reappearing ten meters to the front-left in a single blink, not even disturbing a blade of grass as she landed.

Kalei was deeply astonished to see this. If he wasn't mistaken, the skill that Jinli—as called by Arenia—had just used was Blink.

How could a Hunter use Blink?

No! He recalled the arrow Jinli had fired earlier and the white light upon it; it was clearly not natural energy, but arcane energy.

What was going on?

Why did Jinli possess arcane magic? Why did Arenia have no reaction to Jinli using the arcane?

A massive mystery formed in Kalei's mind.

However, Kalei did not have much heart to ponder this now. With Jinli's departure, Arenia was left alone to face two Berserkers while also contending with the Furbolg Shaman in the rear, and she began to find herself stretched thin.

Clearly, the arrows Jinli and Arenia had fired earlier were not so easily loosed; each shot required a massive expenditure of energy.

Arenia fired three more consecutive arrows, repelling two attacks from the Berserkers, but thereafter, she could only use ordinary archery techniques to delay the Berserkers' advance.

The Night Elf defensive line faced a crisis once again.

Kalei watched, anxious but powerless to help. He could only hope that the mysterious Jinli could successfully deal with that Furbolg Shaman, or that the Priestess of the Moon Laria could finish the purification and reach the battlefield soon.

Thinking of Laria, Kalei suddenly felt something was wrong. If it was a Furbolg Shaman controlling the Furbolgs, then where was the mastermind who had lured the Furbolgs into darkness?

If this mastermind intended to attack the village, why not use their full strength from the start, instead of waiting until Kalei and the others arrived at the village to act?

Could it be that the mastermind's goal wasn't to attack the village at all, or perhaps the attack on the village was merely incidental, and the true objective was...

Kalei was somewhat startled. If things were truly as he suspected, then there was big trouble.

He looked at the battlefield; he couldn't help here anyway, so he might as well go back and take a look.

He acted on the thought, immediately turning his Saber around and rushing back toward the village.

Kalei's actions quickly caught Arenia's attention. Although she was exhausted from dealing with the two Berserkers, she remained keenly aware of the changes on the battlefield.

Throughout the day, Kalei had left a good impression on her—a young man with a flexible mind and a sense of responsibility. He was not the type to desert out of cowardice, so why would he leave at such a time?

Arenia pondered slightly and soon understood Kalei's intent. For the first time, a grave expression appeared on her face, and her grip on her bow tightened.

Compared to the clamor at the valley entrance, the village was abnormally quiet.

Almost all the villagers had followed the instructions of Salomon, staying silently in their homes and praying to the Goddess Elune.

Salomon, meanwhile, led a dozen ordinary warriors, guarding every intersection in the village, vigilant against any potential enemies.

At first, although these warriors didn't understand why Salomon would do this, they still followed his orders.

As the battle at the valley entrance grew more intense, these warriors could not help but feel restless. Although they were not professionals, the pride and honor of the Night Elf made them yearn to enter the battlefield like the professionals at the valley entrance, rather than hiding in the back doing nothing.

Salomon listened to the sounds of slaughter ahead and felt equally anxious, but remembering Arenia's final order, he had to suppress the urge.

Just as he was arguing with two of his warriors, a soldier walked over and said, "Salomon, someone has left their home."

Salomon's heart stirred; he raised a hand to stop the argument between the two men beside him and asked hurriedly, "Who is it?"

The warrior replied, "It's Sain from the east side of the village."

Salomon frowned. "Him? Didn't you tell him not to go out for the time being?"

Sain, full name Sain Morningstar, was a rare eccentric in Bristlelimb Village. He lived alone in an ancient wooden house on the east side of the village, was a law unto himself, almost never interacted with villagers, and rarely even attended the rites at the Temple of the Moon.

The warrior said, "I told him two or three times, but he didn't take it to heart. He even said that Night Elves are a naturally free race, allowed to go where they want and do what they want, and that no one is allowed to interfere."

"What kind of bullshit is this guy spouting... No one is interfering with his freedom here, but these are extraordinary times... Where did he go?"

"He went toward the southwest, it seems to paint. Should we send someone to keep an eye on him?"

"Keep an eye on him... No, I'll go follow him myself and see." Salomon said, mounting his Saber and giving a few instructions to the warriors guarding the intersection before chasing off in the southwest direction.

Salomon moved quickly. He followed the directions given by the warrior and soon found Sain, though he did not rush to step forward and reveal himself.

Salomon is a rare breed among the Night Elf, a pure warrior. He lacks the hunter's keen perception or the mage's mystical arts, but his combat instincts are second to none.

He knows that before an enemy makes their move, it is best to remain concealed.

He gently patted the Saber beneath him. Understanding its master's intent, the Saber slowed its pace and utilized its innate Prowl ability, carrying Salomon silently as they trailed behind Sain.

The two moved one after the other, covering a distance through the village.

Salomon noticed that Sain was not heading southwest; instead, he walked through a patch of woods, turned toward the center, and headed toward the back of the village—the very direction of the Temple of the Moon.

Something is wrong. Why is this guy going to the Temple of the Moon?

In all the years Salomon could remember, Sain had rarely visited the Temple of the Moon, and in the last few decades, he had not gone at all. Why choose this moment to go?

Recalling Arenia's instructions, Salomon realized her suspicions were correct. There was indeed a problem in the village, and that problem lay with Sain.

He did not know what Sain intended to do, nor did he have time to investigate. As a warrior, he had a simpler method.

He charged forward on his Saber, blocking Sain's path, and demanded, "Sain, why aren't you following orders and staying home? What are you doing out here?"

Sain was a short, unremarkable-looking Night Elf. He had not expected Salomon to appear suddenly before him.

He looked at Salomon with a flash of irritation before his expression turned blank. "Where I go is none of your business. You have no right to manage me."

Salomon jumped off his Saber, gripping his heavy greatsword with both hands. He pointed the tip slightly downward at Sain and said, "Is that so, Sain? I don't care what you're planning; with me here, you aren't going anywhere."

The Saber beside him sensed its master's will and let out a low growl in coordination. Its sharp claws unsheathed, it stared fixedly at Sain, a threatening rumble vibrating in its throat.

Sain stood his ground, glancing back and forth between Salomon and the Saber, his face growing increasingly grim.

Suddenly, as if possessed by madness, he drew a cold-glinting dagger from his waist and laughed, "If that's the case, then go to hell."

As his voice faded, his body gradually turned ethereal and vanished from sight.

A rogue!

Salomon's expression shifted as Sain disappeared, but he did not panic.

He gripped his greatsword tightly, scanning the surroundings, and commanded his Saber, "Brook, find his position."

Brook let out a low whine in response. It trotted toward the spot where Sain had just been standing, sniffed the air, and then let out a roar, lunging toward the front right of Salomon.

Sain had not expected Brook's tracking to be so sensitive; it instantly broke his stealth, forcing him out of the shadows.

A rogue in stealth is terrifying, but once their stealth is broken, they must be careful.

Sain turned to run, but Salomon leaped into the air, soaring above Sain's head, and brought his greatsword down in a powerful strike.

As a rogue, Sain excelled in sneak attacks and speed; he had no chance of winning in a head-on collision against a warrior's heavy strike.

He cursed under his breath, rolled across the ground to dodge the blow, and attempted to use stealth again to hide.

Unfortunately, Brook had already locked onto his scent and forced him out without effort.

Seizing the opportunity, Salomon unleashed a powerful Whirlwind, sweeping toward Sain's midsection.

Caught off guard, Sain had no way to dodge and could only desperately parry with his dagger.

Clang! Clang!

He blocked twice, but the third strike sent him and his blade flying. He crashed heavily to the ground, a long gash torn across his chest, blood instantly staining his clothes.

Under normal circumstances, Salomon and Sain were mid-level warriors and rogues of similar rank; a one-on-one duel would not be easily won. But with Brook the Saber on Salomon's side, Sain was completely outmatched.

Yet, despite his severe injuries, the madness in Sain's eyes did not dim.

Ignoring the wound on his chest, he looked up and shrieked, "Damn beast! Damn you, Salomon! You've angered me. I will kill you both, rip out your souls, and torture you endlessly!"

As he finished speaking, Sain's body underwent a violent transformation—his bones cracked and popped, his stature grew, gray-brown fur sprouted on his face, and two curved horns protruded from his head. In the blink of an eye, he had become a goat-headed monster reeking of rot!

Salomon's face paled at the sight of the creature, and he roared, "Satyr! Sain, you wretch, you actually defected to the Satyr! By Elune, I will kill you, traitor!"

The transformed Sain was unfazed by Salomon's threat. He laughed contemptuously, "Then come, Salomon. Let's see what kind of nightmare I've prepared for you."

Salomon raised his greatsword, ready to charge, when he suddenly saw Sain point a finger at Brook. The Saber shuddered, its eyes turning cloudy, and it suddenly spun around, lunging at Salomon!

Salomon hurriedly aborted his charge, holding his greatsword across his chest to block Brook's powerful pounce.

"Damn you, you corrupted Brook! You demon, I'll slaughter you!"

Unable to attack Brook, Salomon could only retreat while parrying, his eyes burning with rage as he glared at Sain.

Sain had intended to coordinate with Brook to pincer Salomon, but he suddenly heard a shrill, mournful howl in the distance.

Sain's expression changed, and he cursed, "Consider yourself lucky, you fool! Play with your pet; I don't have time for you now. Once the master's plan is complete, you will all meet your end."

"Where do you think you're going, demon!" Salomon tried to stop him, but he could not shake off Brook's harassment and could only watch helplessly as Sain vanished into the night sky.