Having figured everything out, Yrel began to take the initiative.
After watching Dreadhoof finish a charge and gradually slow its pace, Yrel did not brace herself for its next attack. Instead, she ran toward Dreadhoof, picked up a warhammer left behind by a fallen Draenei, and hurled it at the beast.
To be honest, Yrel had been a proper warrior for less than a day. No matter how gifted she was or how effective her intense training had been, she could not possibly have learned everything—at the very least, she had not mastered the art of throwing weapons.
However, Dreadhoof was simply too enormous. Moreover, the knowledge Ye Ting had placed in her mind included techniques for using thrown weapons, so hitting it by surprise was not difficult at all.
The one-handed hammer spun through the air like a flying axe, whistling toward the mutated talbuk before smashing heavily into its rear.
"Woooargh—"
Compared to ordinary talbuk, Dreadhoof was not only far larger, but also much tougher and thicker-skinned. An attack that would have seriously injured an ordinary talbuk could not do it much harm, but no one would feel good after being suddenly struck like that.
Awkwardly turning around, Dreadhoof immediately fixed its blood-red eyes on the source of the attack—Yrel.
In this gladiatorial battle, she was the first person who had dared to provoke Dreadhoof.
The warlike talbuk was instantly enraged. It no longer had any interest in playing hunting games with the other Draenei. Its full attention was now focused on Yrel, and it would not rest until it killed her.
And that was exactly what Yrel wanted.
If she drew Dreadhoof's hatred, everyone else could survive.
"Leave Dreadhoof to me. All of you, stay back—"
After shouting to the others, Yrel focused entirely on Dreadhoof. She