Yrel watched as furious Dreadhoof snorted out chilling white vapor, then let out a roar and charged again.
"Ha! That blue-skinned freak is finally done for! Ram her to death!"
"Let us see blood and minced flesh, Dreadhoof!"
When they had discovered that one of the cowardly Draenei could actually deal with Dreadhoof—even through trickery—the Orcs had already been deeply dissatisfied.
Now, seeing that the Draenei woman could no longer hold on, they once again erupted into frenzied shouts and screams.
Facing the beast charging straight at her, Yrel felt utterly helpless.
She had originally been nothing more than a priest apprentice. Although Ye Ting's training had given her sufficient combat skills, it had not brought any breakthrough in her physical strength. Now, when facing a powerful enemy, the weakness in stamina that came with not being a professional warrior had become apparent.
Do I really have to use the power of the Holy Light here?
Watching Dreadhoof draw nearer and nearer, the girl thought to herself.
According to the plan she and Ye Ting had made, although the Holy Light could temporarily restore her strength, she should not reveal too early that she possessed such power, lest it alert the Orcs.
Yet as she watched the talbuk charge toward her, Yrel felt that if she did not use the Holy Light now, she might not even have a chance at victory.
Just as she was about to do something, the charging beast suddenly met with an accident. As though it had stumbled, it dropped to its knees, then, driven by tremendous momentum, rolled violently several times before collapsing in front of her.
"What happened?"
Yrel looked up and saw that Dreadhoof's hind leg—the one she had struck repeatedly—had bent backward at a horrifying angle no joint could possibly reach.