Shaman

Magatha chose to take the initiative. She had never been one to sit back and wait. If there was an opportunity, she would seize it firmly.

"Damn beast, you'd better tell me about that vile conspiracy right now, or I'll let you feel the wrath of the elemental spirits!"

Crackling lightning gathered in Magatha Grimtotem's palm. Her eyes were bloodshot, and an irrepressible hatred filled her chest.

Her towering rage turned into terrifying power. The current burst with sparks and shrieked with piercing crackles, clamoring to devour the enemy before her.

This was Magatha Grimtotem's thirtieth minute on the battlefield. During these thirty minutes, and the thirty minutes before that, the Shaman had witnessed countless deaths.

Elders, children, men, women, warriors, civilians...

Old or young, tall or short, they had all been living, breathing souls that very morning, struggling to survive on this not-so-fertile land with gentle smiles on their faces.

Magatha knew some of them. They had smiled, greeted one another, and promised to meet again, day after day, until a senseless attack took their lives.

Kneeling before one cold body after another, Magatha swore that she would make the murderers pay.

"Pathetic woman, your efforts are utterly meaningless. The great Centaur are destined to rule all of this, while you foolish Tauren are nothing but insignificant insects trying to defy fate. You are destined to be crushed beneath the terrifying power of the great me—Warlord Gelk! Hahahaha!"

Gelk sneered at the Tauren before him as he swung his halberd, shattering the incoming Lightning Bolts one after another.

Then his forehooves rose high into the air before slamming down, kicking up a cloud of dust that forced Magatha back.

The violent tremor darkened Magatha's already black complexion by several shades. She retreated a few steps and left the obscured area, only for several scorching arrows to fly straight at her.

With nowhere left to retreat, Magatha threw down a totem and skillfully summoned several spikes from beneath her feet, forming a sturdy wall that blocked the attack.

The Earth Spike blocked Magatha's view, but the assault was far from over.

A shadow descended from above. Magatha reflexively looked up to see a halberd crashing down at her. Gelk had leaped high into the air and brought down a powerful cleaving strike.

Unfortunately, Gelk was not that famous future Orc who wielded a battle axe. Though his leaping slash was ferocious, it was not unstoppable.

Magatha reached to her waist and drew two one-handed warhammers. Crossing them before herself, she barely managed to block the vicious strike.

Lightning wrapped around the hammer handles. Gelk inwardly cursed and raised a forehoof, viciously kicking at the Shaman's chest.

But Magatha's fighting spirit had been roused. She did not dodge the blow at all. With a twist of her wrists, she redirected the halberd and pressed the warhammers, charged with all the lightning she had gathered, against the Centaur's chest.

Stormstrike!

Both figures were sent flying. Magatha rolled across the ground several times before stopping, coughing up a mouthful of blood. Every bone in her body felt as though it had fallen apart, and the agony left her unable to rise.

Gelk was in an even worse state. He let out a shrill scream as his body flew away like a kite with its string cut. The storm's fury erupted completely across his chest in a violent explosion. Scorching currents seared his flesh, nearly blasting half a hole through the left side of his chest.

Yet despite such a horrific wound, he recovered before Magatha did!

"Cough, cough... Urgh... Blargh..." Blood gushed from Gelk's nose, mouth, and eye sockets, making him look savage and terrifying. Struggling, he ordered his subordinates, "Damn... lowly cow... kill her..."

Who was he giving orders to? Magatha gazed at the wretched Centaur in the distance, endured the pain, and looked around.

There was no one nearby—at least, there had been no one a second ago.

Two daggers came at the Shaman's face from the left and right, stirring a blood-scented wind.

Magatha's eyes widened. What had she seen? The earth some distance away suddenly bulged upward, then twisted into the shape of a Centaur!

The spirits of air had given no warning at all!

So that was it. She finally understood how these damned mongrels had launched their ambush!

They had actually transformed their bodies into elements. What a mad thing to do!

She cursed that idiot Muun Earthfury in her heart. It would have been one thing if he had brought trouble upon himself, but he had actually brought the mess he caused back to the village.

Unfortunately, she had no way to pass on this crucial information. As she watched the blades grow larger before her eyes, Magatha felt time slowing as well.

The approaching blades brought the chill of death. At the end of her life, even someone as strong as she felt an empty sense of loss and unease.

Legend said that before death, a Tauren would briefly look back upon their life. As a Shaman, she had accompanied many lives through this final rite, including her father's.

And now, she too would face the final death... her own death.

What would my life be like? She forced her eyes open wide, trying to see her own not-so-long life clearly, but there were no images of herself there. There was only a thin, aged Tauren with black fur.

That was her father, and she clearly remembered the moment he had passed away.

Before the bed, candlelight flickered. The gaunt Tauren lay upon a straw mat, sorrowfully speaking of a prophecy for the future.

It was the deathbed prophecy of an old Shaman.

"My child..." he said lovingly. "Forgive me for leaving you."

"This land is covered in wounds. I spent my entire life trying to heal it, but my life was far too short. Even at its end, I accomplished nothing."

"I often hear the earth weeping. All spirits whisper to me that an enemy from afar will awaken in the distant future, bringing darkness of destruction and raging flames. The land will split apart, yet I no longer have the strength to stop it."

"Forgive your incompetent father. I will place this burden upon you. You possess a strong and vibrant soul, and it will grant you a long life..."

"Over that long span of time, you will accomplish deeds of salvation, and you will also commit terrible crimes out of ignorance. But in the end, your soul will shine with dazzling brilliance through redemption."

"My child, I am about to set out on a long journey..." he said. "Do not grieve. Though the distance is vast, you and I will eventually walk together."

Ah, she remembered now—that distant, sorrowful prophecy.

A powerful emotion surged through her chest. Suddenly, she felt boundless strength. Water nourished her wounds, flames warmed her body, wild winds drove her limbs, lightning flooded into her weapons, along with other unknown powers.

Magatha felt it—the wrath of the elements. They poured vitality and strength into her, clamoring for her to punish the twisted villain before her!

"How could I! How could I fall here!"

With a roar, her battered body rose. The furious storm hammer, bearing lightning and lava, smashed open one ambusher's skull. Just as she prepared to take another blade head-on and deal with the other bastard Centaur in the same way—

A warhammer shining with golden radiance descended from the sky and violently knocked away the other ambusher.

"Sorry! I'm late!"

A young white Tauren ran toward Magatha. He held a warhammer whose head emitted a dazzling golden glow.

He extended an arm toward Magatha and asked with concern, "Are you all right, Master Grimtotem?"

"If you hadn't arrived, I might have taken a blade, and the outcome would have been no different from this."

Magatha slapped away the white Tauren's offered hand, coughed twice, and wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.

She put away her hammers and walked toward Gelk, who was staring in stunned disbelief.

"An'she's light is dazzling wherever it shines. But if I were you, I would restrain myself a little on the battlefield. It's nighttime now. May the elemental spirits bless you."

"Uh... you're welcome?"

Magatha glared fiercely at him as though he were a disobedient junior.

The newcomer looked somewhat embarrassed.

Dezco Dawnstrider had long heard that there was a Grimtotem Shaman of exceptional talent and tremendous strength, but that she was proud and arrogant, someone not particularly likable. He had not truly believed it, however, because he disliked judging a person's character based on rumors.

But after this exchange, well... the rumors seemed quite accurate.

Thinking back on what she had said... that was gratitude, right?

She was thanking him, right?

Please tell me that was what she meant!

How could there be such a difficult person in this world? Dezco complained wildly in his heart.

"Oh, right, Master Grimto—" Dezco slapped his forehead, suddenly remembering something, but Magatha immediately interrupted him.

"Call me Magatha!" Magatha's face was cold.

"Understood, Lady Magatha..." Dezco scratched his head and continued, "Master Bloodhoof dispatched many hunters, and the situation in the village is temporarily under control. She is also trying to organize reinforcements. We were the first group to arrive, and Master Galdar will be here shortly."

"Tamara has at least that much ability." Magatha snorted. "Where is your father?"

"Father is fighting with the Dawnstrider warriors in the south. Those Centaur bastards are crazy. They need a little time."

Magatha nodded. "Any other news?"

"Yes. The little Shaman from the Rune Totem family discovered something. You should know about Master Muun..."

Before Dezco could finish, the Shaman master impatiently cut him off.

"All right, all right, I understand..."

"They went to find the High Priest, right?" Magatha waved a hand, indicating that she already knew.

"Uh... you're right..." Dezco scratched his head, thinking that communicating with this master was exceptionally exhausting.

"Then let's buy them more time." A cruel smile suddenly curved Magatha's lips. "I must teach these wretches that anyone who dares offend the Grimtotem will pay a heavy price!"

While they had been talking, Magatha had already walked up to Gelk.

Perhaps understanding that his life would end here, the famed Centaur warlord lowered his head in silence.

Magatha looked around. Everywhere she looked, Centaur and Tauren were tangled together in battle. This not-so-wide area seemed to have been isolated from the rest of the battlefield.

The Centaur still held an absolute numerical advantage, yet no one tried to reclaim Gelk's life. He sat collapsed upon the barren ground, utterly alone and pitifully desolate.

"I won, and it seems your people have abandoned you. Any last words?"

Weighing the bloodstained warhammer in her hand, Magatha Grimtotem looked mockingly at the fallen Centaur at her feet.

"Please don't kill me. I can tell you our purpose! Please don't kill me, I don't want to die!"

Gelk suddenly raised his head and shamelessly begged his enemy for mercy.

"Is that so? Then tell me... now!"

"Now? But... all right, our purpose is—"

Bang!

In that instant, a dull impact sounded. Then the Centaur's head and neck bent at an unnatural angle, and his body went completely limp.

"I don't have time for interrogations. Besides, I don't think much of people without integrity."

Magatha coldly kicked the Centaur's ugly corpse, turning it over. In Gelk's hand, which had been hidden against his chest, he still tightly gripped a hooked blade. What a cunning beast.

She glanced at Dezco without saying a word, then turned and ran toward the deadlocked battlefield. Fiercer fighting still awaited her there.

Dezco followed behind her with a wry smile.