The Devil

Cairne Bloodhoof's towering body stood at the front of the Tauren ranks. The hunting parties had converged, and victory in this counterattack was no longer in doubt.

The battle continued, with Magatha Grimtotem directing the fighting from afar.

Just moments ago, if Hamuul Runetotem had not arrived in time, terrible rage would have nearly plunged her soul into eternal corruption.

Purification restored her calm. Though her mental state was poor, the Shaman still stubbornly insisted on clearing out the Centaur fanatics.

With no other choice, Cairne Bloodhoof could only have Hamuul look after her.

He and Hamuul had been childhood friends, inseparable partners, like light and shadow, clouds and wind, water and fire.

To Cairne, that mild-tempered old bull was the best balm. He never lost his calm, and whenever Cairne was consumed by rage, Hamuul's wisdom always brought him back to his senses. Thus, they trusted one another forever.

The chieftain led a small group guarding the place where they had met. From beginning to end, he did not say a single word, merely watching the retreating Centaur with a heavy gaze.

Behind him, the silent Tauren warriors formed an unshakable wall. Their eyes held invisible hatred, blazing like fire yet cold as frost.

At first glance, every one of them seemed to want nothing more than to hack the passing creatures into a thousand pieces. Yet from the beginning until now, not a single one had tried to strike.

The Shu'halo respected their elders and forgave children.

To any devout Shu'halo, calves were forever pure and innocent. No matter the circumstances, children were absolutely never targets for blade or sword. When someone raised a butcher's knife against a calf, their soul became filthy and defiled.

All kinds of elderly, weak, women, and children passed through in a long line, carrying fear, relief... and hatred they could not conceal.

Kindness gave rise to malice, and thus the wheel of hatred began to turn.

Ironic, wasn't it? They were clearly the invaders, yet they had somehow cast themselves in the role of victims.

The Tauren present witnessed it all, and so did the Centaur. Neither knew what kind of story they would pass down to their descendants—remorse born of conscience, or distortion and falsification?

But at least in this moment, the Tauren chose to remain true to themselves, while the Centaur's choice...

No one knew.

At last, the final Centaur child had left.

On the opposing side, only Magra Khan remained within the Centaur formation. He stood like a statue of steel, alone before the hateful gazes of enemies dozens of times his number, never taking a single step back.

"Let us finish this!"

Though he was like a trapped beast in a cage, the Khan's voice remained steady and powerful.

He raised his spear once more and held it horizontally before his chest.

"Before that, Chieftain Bloodhoof, allow me to express my utmost respect for your magnanimity. I believe you understand the meaning and cost of doing this, and you also understand its consequences."

"But in my eyes, this is utterly laughable." The Khan spoke without the slightest concern for offending his opponent.

"If our positions were reversed, this would not even be something I would consider."

The Centaur Khan raised his spear and stared straight at the mountain-like Tauren chieftain before saying mockingly, "I would simply exterminate every Tauren I saw. Not even a child would be spared."

Unexpected calm showed in Cairne's gray-green eyes. He answered in a deep, powerful voice, "I understand. And that is precisely the difference between us."

The Centaur Khan burst into laughter.

"You are right! Of course we are different!"

"From beginning to end, I have believed that noble Centaur must stand above every other race! That has never changed!"

"Even if it cannot be achieved now,

I will forever look forward to that future!" However, his fervor abruptly cooled, and he said coldly, "That is why I will continue to fail forever."

After a brief pause, the Centaur Khan suddenly smiled. "Honored Chieftain Cairne Bloodhoof, you will surely become a great chieftain—not merely the chieftain of the Bloodhoof Tribe, but the High Chieftain of all Tauren!"

"That will be our end."

Magra spoke firmly, as if he believed it more deeply than anyone present.

"To prevent that day from arriving, let me make one final effort for my race!"

Both sides took this as the signal to begin. As the Khan spoke those impassioned words, Cairne's runed spear flashed into view.

Though his anger had reached its limit, Cairne remained terrifyingly calm. He had seen that the Khan was the side whose authority had been stripped away, so he could not waste too much time here. This battle had to end quickly!

Yet the chieftain had not expected the battle to end countless times faster than he imagined.

Magra Khan charged straight at him with his spear raised. Just as Cairne swung his own spear, preparing to meet him blade to blade, the Centaur Khan suddenly reversed his spear, spread his arms, and exposed his bare chest to Cairne's runed spear!

The blade pierced in, and the bloody tip burst out. The sharp edge split the Centaur Khan's heart cleanly in two, instantly reducing his powerful, robust life to ruin.

Faced with this suicide, more resolute than anything he had ever seen, even the battle-hardened Cairne was briefly stunned.

"Don't... don't look at me like that..."

"I don't need... your pity!"

With the Centaur retreating, their grand design of invasion had already come to a shattered end.

His deal with the devil, this gamble in which he had staked his entire race, had ended in failure.

Their battle no longer held any meaning. It could only offer more help to the one behind this scheme, adding nothing but another joke in the end.

"I made a deal with the devil... and now... I have paid the price..."

"But... I am a greedy and jealous... person..."

Blood poured from the Khan's mouth as he roared madly, "I cannot stand it... I will not allow it... I will not allow those bastards who want to use us and reap the rewards without lifting a finger!"

"I paid the price! I staked everything! Why... why can he use us from up there, so high and mighty!"

"I gave everything—my clan, my faith, my soul... so he! That demon! He must pay even more!"

With every sentence the Khan struggled to utter, his wound tore wider and death's footsteps came faster. Yet his voice grew louder and clearer, until it became a roar.

"As thanks, let me tell you pitiful fools who it was... and why..."

As though granted a final flash of life, the Centaur Khan's eyes gradually brightened. Roaring, he revealed everything—the terrible conspiracy hidden beneath this invasion.

Cairne was stunned. In fury, he seized the Centaur Khan by the throat and lifted him like a rag doll.

However, the body that was gradually ceasing to breathe could no longer tell him anything.

Magra Khan was dead.

Cairne recovered from his shock and slowly lowered the Khan's corpse, allowing the warrior to retain a dignified posture.

Then he turned to the Tauren warriors beside him and said heavily, "Quick, send a signal to Hamuul. We..."

Before he could finish, an anomaly occurred.

The sky over Bloodhoof Village had changed color. An ominous crimson canopy covered the bright yellow of the flames, wrapping the entire village like an overturned dome.

Cairne did not know what it was, but there was no doubt that something even more terrifying had happened!