Ice Storm

Darkness inspired the most primal fear.

Since the savage age of eating raw meat and drinking blood, humanity's fear of darkness had been branded into their hearts, and now it fermented within everyone present.

Every mercenary felt bitterness in his mouth.

"Damn it! Did Hogg bring his entire gnoll army? Aren't they only active in Elwynn Forest? Why did they cross the river into Westfall!?" People of this era generally suffered from night blindness due to the lack of seafood in their diets. Even with firelight, all they could see were shadowy demons everywhere.

Captain Macaro suddenly gave a dry laugh. "Hey, look on the bright side. Duhan, the sheriff of Goldshire in Elwynn Forest, has been waiting night after night. He's waiting for a hunter who can bring back proof that Hogg has been killed. If we kill Hogg and bring his huge claws to the people of Goldshire, we'll get double the reward."

"Boss, we're doomed, aren't we..."

Macaro's joke did nothing to raise morale.

"Have you forgotten who else we have?"

Macaro's reminder suddenly lifted everyone's spirits.

That's right! We still have Lord Duke Marcus!

Remembering Duke's dazzling, unimaginable magic from the day, everyone felt as if they had downed a cup of strong liquor, warmth surging through their bodies. Unconsciously, they turned part of their attention toward the carriage.

Duke's expression was terrible at that moment.

He truly had not expected to face his first real battle at a time like this.

And the biggest problem was that these gnolls had changed completely. When old Norton had escorted Duke and the other two apprentices to Stormwind, Duke had encountered gnolls before.

Back then, gnolls had merely been squat monsters with powerful limbs. Aside from their numbers, they had nothing going for them.

Things were completely different now. As the system sprite outlined the gnolls' bodies within Duke's field of vision, Duke noticed the data displayed by the system.

Adult gnoll. Height: approximately 1.9 meters. Weight: approximately 120 kilograms...

After the system sprite illuminated the targets, Duke discovered that these humanoid monsters, with greenish-gray or dark green skin and coyote-like heads thrust forward from their shoulders, were fully three times larger than their kin.

As for the giant monster more than a hundred meters away, standing over four meters tall, it bore the following label.

Mutated elite monster [Hogg]. Data unknown. Unusual increase in strength detected. Danger assessment: [High Risk]. Strongly advises host to retreat.

Even Duke could not help sucking in a sharp breath.

What the hell was this?

This was completely unfair!

Four meters tall? That was practically an ogre's template!

And seriously, Lord Hogg! Did you really have to leave your territory just to hunt me down?

Before Duke transmigrated, Hogg had been known as the newbie killer of World of Warcraft.

In the earliest version of the game, nearly every new player who received the wanted quest [Hogg Must Die] in Goldshire would eagerly and foolishly run off to hunt Hogg.

And what happened? The players experienced for the first time what an elite monster truly was.

One, two, three, four... the number of newbie players killed by Hogg was enough to circle Earth's equator twice.

Of course, that was an exaggeration.

But the fact that Lord Hogg had taught players a harsh lesson was indisputable.

Whenever players talked about Hogg, they would jokingly add the honorific "Lord" to his name. That was how Hogg became Lord Hogg.

When Duke had passed through Elwynn Forest, perhaps because Macaro had deliberately chosen a route closer to Westbrook Garrison, which was guarded by Stormwind Kingdom soldiers, they had never encountered any gnolls. Duke had inadvertently forgotten all about Hogg.

And now, instead of lording it over Elwynn Forest, Hogg had crossed the border to hunt him down here? Duke was thoroughly baffled.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!" The massive figure leaped over the warning bonfire in the distance. Under the flickering firelight, Hogg's terrifying silhouette appeared even larger and more oppressive.

By the firelight, they could see Hogg's hyena-like head, with long yellow teeth and blood-red eyes. Thick black-and-yellow fur covered his body. Gnolls usually stripped hides from livestock such as cattle and fashioned them into crude leather armor.

Naturally, they also liked to take weapons from the humans they attacked, so gnoll weapons and armor were often an eclectic mess.

Hogg was different!

Perhaps his body was too enormous, leaving him unable to find weapons or armor that fit.

Or perhaps he had only recently become this huge. In any case, what Hogg displayed before Duke and the mercenaries was a body devoid of armor, muscles brimming with explosive power, and impossibly thick fur.

"God! Did he attack an outpost, or did he attack Westbrook Garrison?" The mercenaries spotted several longswords embedded in Hogg's body.

The standard longswords of Stormwind's human guards looked like toothpicks stuck in him.

Whether Hogg wanted to flaunt his strength or had simply gone a little mad, he had not even pulled out the longswords that should have been causing him constant pain.

In his right claw, he held what seemed to be a flagpole. A small section of a Stormwind flag still hung from the pole, which was nearly thick enough that an adult human would need both arms to encircle it.

"Awooo—" It sounded somewhat like a dog's bark and somewhat like a wolf's howl.

With a roar full of intimidation, Hogg proclaimed his presence to the entire convoy.

In no time at all, Hogg's underlings had surrounded them from every direction.

At that same moment, Macaro and the others finally heard a voice from inside the carriage, one that sounded like heavenly music.

"Gather around me. Stay within the range of Blizzard."

The mercenaries understood gathering around him.

But within the range of Blizzard?

They did not quite understand.

The next second, when the roaring gnolls charged in as one, waving all kinds of weapons, and the mercenaries could even smell their foul breath, they understood.

A magnificent sound!

By nature, sound should not have been magnificent.

Yet at that moment, the crackling of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of icicles falling from the sky—the sound that saved Macaro and the others from certain death—suddenly gave the word "sound" the prefix "magnificent."

The icicles rained down over an open area dozens of meters wide, halting the gnolls' assault.

That savage tide of monsters still sought to crush the seemingly fragile defensive circle formed by Macaro and the others, but before long, they were hit.