Gnolls

With the investment from his two initial partners, Lister, Uther, and Uther's followers of the Holy Light headed for Valgan Farm. Most of these followers were children from the farm, and their parents were devout believers in the Holy Light. They dearly hoped their children could become glorious priests like Uther.

Valgan Farm backed against Silverpine Forest. It supplied Dalaran with an endless stream of wheat, fresh fruit, and livestock, while Dalaran generously supported its development in return. This was the region closest to Dalaran. Land here was not only cheap, but it was also easy to recruit workers.

Lister looked at the towering trees around him. They let out crisp, piercing howls in the wind. Winter had scattered their leaves, exposing their withered trunks. The gnolls were especially active. These creatures had no habit of storing food; every moment, they coveted the human freight caravans. The slightest carelessness was enough for them to pounce, tear open your throat with savage bites, and carry off all their prey as winter provisions.

The crows cocked their heads, watching this strange convoy.

Uther tightened his grip on his warhammer. His senses were exceptionally sharp, as though he had already caught the faint bloody, rank stench in the air. These unhygienic gnolls always gave themselves away. In truth, they were hasty, and very, very clever. They never acted from upwind, since the wind would carry their distinctive smell far away.

They always lay in ambush around bends and downwind. Cruel light gleamed in this gnoll's single eye as it led several dozen clansmen hiding amid the tall dead grass. Their brown mottled skin was the perfect camouflage. Unless one looked carefully, it was impossible to spot these deadly hunters among the grass.

But... a small translucent eyeball appeared in the air. Astaroth sneered. "So you're here, little wolf-dogs."

"Be careful. A group of gnolls is lying in ambush at the fork fifty meters ahead," the Archmage warned. "Everyone, prepare for battle."

"How many?" Uther gripped his hammer in both hands. He was already prepared for battle, every muscle in his body bulging. "Archers? Or warriors?"

"Three gnoll archers, ten warriors. Damn it, what's that?" Astaroth suddenly covered his eye, thin streams of blood seeping through his fingers. His voice rose into a shrill pitch. "A gnoll mage? He countered my Mage Eye! Watch out!"

Lister's brow suddenly furrowed, because there was no need for further words. The gnolls had already charged.

Gnolls were not very intelligent, unless they were mutants like Hogger. They were tall and built much like humans who had turned into werewolves. Their temperaments were as cruel as wolves', and they were not picky eaters—humans were on their menu as well. They also made some simple leather goods. It had to be admitted that some were quite exquisite, but never wear them, because they were very likely made of human skin.

The gnolls charging forward wielded extremely crude weapons: human farmers' rakes, stone-made warhammers, and branch spears. Crude as they were, they were still lethal. Without Uther's command, the followers holding simple farm tools would have scattered like birds and beasts long ago.

"Hold fast to your faith!" Uther roared, raising his warhammer into a defensive stance. "Maintain your devotion!"

Whoosh! Whoosh! Two poisoned darts tore through the air. They were bone arrows that the gnolls had fermented in their own feces. More disgusting than their lethality were the vast amounts of bacteria and toxins coating them. If struck, the wound would immediately redden and swell, then develop into an unrelenting high fever. They were truly despicable weapons.

Golden-red light surged from Uther's body. This was the priests' Holy Fire. Blazing flames quickly formed a wall neither too large nor too small. When the bone arrows passed through it, a wave of foul stench drifted over. Then the two charred bone arrows fell limply to the ground and snapped cleanly apart.

Two heavily armored high elf warriors stepped forward. They carried heavy shields in their left hands and sharp one-handed swords in their right. They were Kael'thas's attendants, the most elite warriors of Silvermoon City. The golden edges of their crimson armor reflected an unusually beautiful gleam beneath the sunlight, and the phoenixes on their shields seemed ready to take flight. Bearing the most resolute killing intent, they collided with more than a dozen gnolls.

The gnolls' charge made their shields tremble slightly, but they did not budge. Enchanted blades swiftly thrust out from behind the shields, and two gnolls cried out almost simultaneously. The high elf warriors did not hesitate. They twisted their sword hilts sharply, then pulled them free.

The two corpses collapsed limply like torn rags. Just then, Astaroth's terrified voice rang out. "Watch out for fel energy!"

The Spiral Missile in Lister's hand shot forth, colliding with a yellow-green flame that had tried to launch a sneak attack. A destructive force rapidly spread along the Spiral Missile toward his body. He barely had time to react. It was like two people throwing punches head-on—his left arm had been ruined by the other side's punch, literally. His left arm could no longer move. The searing pain from before had burst countless blood vessels within it, and the entire sleeve around his left arm exploded apart, spraying blood everywhere.

Intense pain struck Lister in an instant. He thought of his battle with Joel, and his mind went terrifyingly blank. This was the feeling of death.

At that moment, Astaroth shouted, "Sever the connection, quickly!"

Lister cleanly severed his connection to the Spiral Missile. A violent explosion erupted before the two warriors and Uther. A yellow-green mushroom cloud, carrying massive currents of air and destructive flames, surged toward them like the sky collapsing. Uther hurriedly raised a hand. "Holy Nova!"

A translucent pale-yellow barrier appeared before everyone, blocking the fel energy at just the right moment. He extended his right hand again, and holy light fell upon them all. "Holy Light! Answer my call! We need your aid!"

This was Prayer of Healing. Priests prayed to the Holy Light, and the Holy Light answered them. The green sparks on the two affected high elf warriors were swiftly extinguished by holy light. Their charred flesh rapidly sloughed away and healed. Lister clutched his left arm and could see his flesh knitting itself back together. Astaroth lowered his fingers and panted heavily, but his right eye remained bloodshot. "Damn it! This is a gnoll empowered by a demon!"

The Holy Light swiftly dispersed the ominous fel flames. Before them lay a huge shallow crater spanning a full fifty square meters. Those unlucky gnoll warriors lay half-dead within it, their tongues dripping with foul-smelling saliva as they gulped down the air purified by the Holy Light.

Uther raised his hammer and cleanly smashed the dog head before him. The half-dead creatures became even more terrified, barely managing to writhe as they tried to flee. A piercing, sinister laugh rang out.

A strange gnoll stood behind two gnoll archers. Unlike its filthy kin, it had several yellow-green scars across its body. No, those were not scars. They resembled some kind of malformed organs, and each twitch released the same ominous gas from before.

The greatest change was in its ugly head. Its original black dog head had already been ugly enough, but now several living tentacles slithered over its skull. Lister cried out instinctively, "A Burning Legion felhound?"

"Woof woof!" The gnoll said nothing more. It raised a hand, and the half-dead gnolls all let out terrified shrieks. Yet there was nothing they could do now but let pale-green threads wrap around their bodies.

The fleshly bodies of the injured gnolls shriveled at a visible rate. The oppressive aura radiating from the fel gnoll grew ever more immense. Uncontrollable fel flames burst from its ugly fel scars, while the changes in its body were even more horrifying.

Its originally scrawny body rapidly swelled. Dozens of quivering malformed tumors grew across its upper body. Its enormous three-meter-tall frame slowly rose like a mountain range, and its terrifying aura made it difficult for everyone even to breathe.

The two gnoll archers were terrified. Just as they tried to run, two massive hands scooped them up. Amid piercing screams, the fel gnoll actually chewed them alive, even licking the filthy blood from its hands clean. Then its greedy, savage little eyes roamed over everyone.

A piercing shriek of laughter rang through the forest, and the flock of crows scattered in all directions.