Slaughter and Massacre

A Tauren warrior, freed of much of the pressure, held back five centaur khans by himself. Watching the Tauren display such ferocity, Rend could only feel that the ones roughly as strong as himself were adventurers, while this Tauren warrior was a boss—a five-man dungeon boss, no less—fighting five of him alone.

Just like that, the Tauren warrior and Rend held back seven centaur khans. Deprived of the khans' deterrence, the centaurs completely collapsed before the bloodthirsty, frenzied orcs.

Just how formidable were these bloodthirsty, frenzied orcs in battle? Did no one see an exposed orc step forward and cleave two equally strong centaurs in half at the waist? Did no one see an orc surrounded by ten centaurs, grievously wounded, still fight to the death and take a centaur's life with his axe? Even with several arrows lodged in their bodies and blood trickling endlessly from their wounds, not a single orc retreated a step. The more seriously wounded they were, the madder they became, like vengeful ghosts from hell come to claim lives.

Most terrifying of all, there were not merely one or two such orcs, but an entire force equal to the centaurs in number. How could they fight that? The frenzied orc warriors could even unleash strength comparable to Tauren, and they were fiercely fearless of death. They directly shattered the centaur army. What tactics could remain? In the orcs' eyes, wherever there were enemies, that was where they went. There was no lord, no spearhead; wherever orc warriors appeared, the centaurs suffered a complete rout.

The Tauren warriors who had previously been surrounded also began their counterattack without hesitation. The centaurs were focused only on fleeing and no longer continued attacking the Tauren civilians behind the warriors. The Tauren, oppressed for far too long, erupted at that moment as well. Even the civilians began to fight back, using their natural strength to kick centaurs to the ground, seize their weapons, and strike back. The centaurs, who had already lost all will to fight, had no ability to resist these Tauren civilians. Their minds held only one thought: run. Why resist? As long as they ran faster than their companions, they would be safe.

Bloodlust did not last very long. The orcs' momentum faded afterward, but even though the Horde was somewhat weakened, the centaurs no longer had the ability to resist. If they had remained under the centaur khans' command and kept the Horde from tearing apart their formation, then even the Horde army would have been unable to stop their retreat.

But now, everyone was fighting for themselves. The Horde had only one enemy: the centaurs. The centaurs had two enemies: the Horde that wanted to kill them, and their own kin who wanted to shove them behind themselves.

The Saurfang brothers had used what seemed like endless charges to tear apart the battle lines, then came over to finish off these centaur khans. The centaur khans, who had already been barely holding on against Rend and the Tauren warrior, now faced two more gods of slaughter.

Rend only saw two afterimages flash before his eyes. The brothers charged in from left and right with perfect coordination. Their axes rose and fell; one cleaved a centaur in half at the waist, while the other cut one clean across.

The panicked centaur khans looked at the two sudden attackers. They did not possess the Tauren warrior's immense strength, yet they radiated an even deeper terror. Countless restless souls seemed to cling to them, and their killing intent was almost tangible. Blood dripped from their axes, but time seemed to have frozen. The centaur khans did not dare move at all. Rend, meanwhile, was awed by the Saurfang brothers' true strength. So I had always been blindly arrogant. I had never truly seen the Horde's strongest warriors unleash their real power.

The Saurfang brothers' nearly tangible killing intent and fighting spirit, together with the Tauren warrior's imposing presence, as heavy and steadfast as a pillar holding up the heavens, firmly suppressed the centaur khans.

The centaur khans looked at the four figures before them. Intimidated, they did not dare act rashly. Rend saw despair in their eyes.

"Ah!" A mournful cry suddenly came from the centaur khan shaman at the rear. Samuro and Rokhan had apparently been lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity. Clearly, both the Saurfang brothers and the Tauren warrior had sensed their movements and created an opening for them. Only Rend had not detected either of their auras at all.

It was now six against four. Surrounded in the middle, the centaur khans began to grow restless. They knew they were doomed. Even if they escaped, the shaman who had failed to protect the Great Khan would still be sentenced to death upon returning. Since that was the case, the centaur khans, knowing death was certain, unleashed their ferocity and charged forward fearlessly.

Before overwhelming strength, even a fearless charge was meaningless. Rend did not need to act at all. The Saurfang brothers became afterimages once more. In less than a second, from beginning to end, they had already passed behind two centaur khans. Then the centaur khans' heads separated from their bodies.

The Tauren warrior faced two centaur chieftains alone. This time, he did not use his spear. Instead, he removed the two enormous totem poles from his back. Without the Saurfang brothers' terrifying efficiency at killing, the Tauren warrior was more like he was brutally torturing them. He repeatedly smashed the totem poles into the centaur khans' powerful bodies. Blood burst forth, bones shattered, and their forms became unrecognizable. In the end, only two heaps of mangled flesh remained, blood continuously flowing from them.

Even the mild-tempered Tauren hated centaurs enough to grind their bones to dust. Never provoke an honest man. The centaurs who had bullied these honest Tauren for centuries were now bearing the Tauren warrior's fury.

After finishing off the two centaur khans, the Tauren warrior picked up his spear. Now his slaughter began. Tauren and centaurs, races locked in a hereditary feud, had reached the point of death without reconciliation. Only when one side had vanished completely could this hatred finally end.

The Saurfang brothers were like highly efficient killing machines, rapidly reaping centaur lives. Though the Tauren warrior lacked the two orc warriors' efficiency, he was even more visually overwhelming. Wherever he passed, even centaurs, a race with powerful physiques, were continuously sent flying. Wherever masses of centaurs were hurled into the air, that was where the Tauren warrior stood. Dust flew and the earth shook. This staggering aesthetic of strength attracted Rend even more than the aesthetics of slaughter. If only I possessed such immense power. Who would need technique? Let you have a thousand tricks; I need only one sweeping strike.

Everyone had their own distinctive style. Samuro, the Songmaster, killed like he danced—elegant and supremely efficient. Unlike the techniques others honed on battlefields, every movement of his killing arts had been passed down through the Burning Blade Clan for a thousand years.

Rokhan, the powerful Shadow Hunter, wielded two double-edged daggers that seemed to come alive in his hands, spinning and dancing through the air. Rend could barely even see the paths of the weapons.

Warchief Thrall had cast a powerful Bloodlust spell that covered hundreds of thousands. Even he suffered some backlash from it. Rather than cast shamanic spells, he raised Doomhammer and relied on the talent he had developed fighting in the arena to destroy his enemies.