Prey

"Re... report, sir!"

A Centaur scout rushed into the crude command post. In his panic, he tripped and knocked over a pile of unidentified bottles and jars.

Scrambling to his feet, he hurriedly reported the latest news to the tall figure beside the command table.

"Great Khan Magra, Warlord Gelk... Warlord Gelk, he... he died in the line of duty!"

Warlord Gelk commanded two Centaur companies and was responsible for frontline combat in this operation. It was a crucial role, so his fall would undoubtedly have a considerably unfavorable effect on the battle!

At least, that was what the young scout thought.

"Is that so? I understand."

His response was an utterly indifferent "I understand."

"But... what are you doing?! Let go of me, let go... mmph!"

The scout seemed to want to argue further, but Khan Magra clapped his hands, and the tent flap was lifted.

Two Centaurs entered the tent. Their attire was rather out of place: one was a veiled woman, while the other was a white-haired old man. These two strange figures covered the scout's mouth and dragged him away between them.

"Annoying fly."

Khan Magra muttered a curse, then turned to the other person in the tent and said, word by word, "It is time for your clumsy little tricks to make an appearance, isn't it? Vel'th... Witch Doctor."

The Centaur named Vel'th was crouching down, leisurely picking up the bottles and jars the reckless scout had knocked over, one by one.

He did not seem in any hurry to answer the Magram Tribe leader's question. Instead, he toyed with the containers in his hands and spoke of something entirely unrelated.

"What a reckless child. Just like that brave warlord, he could have been put to much greater use. Don't you find that a pity?"

"I do not care about that bullshit about value. Gelk only had that little task, yet he could not even handle such a trivial matter. There was no need for him to exist."

"Is that truly what you think, my dear Khan?"

Witch Doctor Vel'th began to pace around Khan Magra at an unhurried pace. He swayed his head and let out peals of delighted laughter.

"I recall... I seem to have conveyed a new mobilization order, did I not?"

The witch doctor shook his head indifferently. "To be honest, I had hoped this chaotic stage would see some distinctive faces... like those two just now."

"After all, for our grand undertaking, having only young people makes this delightful pastime somewhat... well, far too monotonous."

"Then why does the great Khan not guess how much influence your dereliction of duty will have on this devout cause?"

He sneered. "Perhaps ambition has blinded you, or perhaps I have neglected to remind you for too long. The Earth Mother's gift is benevolent and powerful, but it is not eternal. You chose to serve her..."

The witch doctor stopped in front of the Centaur Khan. His hunched figure seemed utterly insignificant before the tall, powerful leader, yet the shadow behind him was unfathomably deep, like the gaping maw of a savage abyss.

"But... why can I not feel your loyalty?"

He extended two fingers and, in an act of blatant insolence, lightly tapped the Khan's bare chest twice. The sensation clearly told him that the Centaur Khan's heart was pounding violently and powerfully.

"Ah, what a strong and vigorous heart. I truly wish to know whether it still holds passion for its master."

"You see, if I were to stab my fingers in like this, what color would I pull out from inside..."

Vel'th paused briefly, then burst into laughter. "But I suppose we should forget it.

"You are right. Those clumsy little tricks should make their appearance. After all, I am a generous man, and I never hide things from my partners..."

He gave a strange smile. "But compared to hearing it from me, perhaps you would be happier hearing it with your own ears. So I conducted an experiment that everyone had been waiting for."

With that, the witch doctor clutched his belly and laughed until he could barely close his mouth. Then he lightly snapped his fingers, and a shrill, miserable scream came from outside the tent.

The Centaur Khan's expression changed. With a sweep of his spear, he lifted the tent flap.

He stepped outside, only to be stunned by the cruel sight before him.

That scout... the young man the guards had dragged outside the tent for protection, had collapsed to the ground in unbearable pain, curled up like a shrimp in a boiling pot.

His entire body was swelling grotesquely, like a lava-colored ball filled with air.

His skin and muscles took on the appearance of a baked chocolate cake crust, slowly swelling before splitting apart and breaking into pieces.

Blood gushed from every part of his body, staining the poor Centaur scout and the earth beneath him a horrifying crimson.

"Save... me..." He weakly reached a hand toward his Khan.

The Khan snapped out of his shock and hurriedly reached out to help, but before their hands could touch, a terrible explosion occurred.

Bang!

With a horrifying boom, the swollen scout exploded into fragments. Warm blood drenched the Centaur Khan from head to toe. He knelt there blankly, frozen with his hand still outstretched.

A new creature was born from the Centaur's remains. Its body was made of circling rocks. Blood-soaked stones formed an inverted triangular humanoid shape under some kind of restraint, while two massive stones passed through metal bracers and floated on either side of the stone mimicking a head, creating a newborn earth elemental.

"Looks like this brand-new Ascension Ritual is still incomplete. It is not fast enough and has no value for control whatsoever."

He shook his head in disgust, seeming deeply dissatisfied with his work. "And... look at this pile of garbage. The ritual did not completely transform the host. It is truly far from perfect."

Witch Doctor Vel'th had not been touched by even a speck of dust from the explosion. He now stood beside the Centaur Khan, criticizing the scene like a meticulous scientist.

By the moonlight, the blade of the fallen spear reflected a face smeared with blood, hideous as a vicious ghost.

The Khan slowly raised his head. He looked at the spotless Witch Doctor Vel'th, then at himself, covered in filth, then at the newly born earth elemental, mottled with corruption. Rage exploded from within his chest.

With a roar, he kicked up his spear, seized it in one motion, and spun it in a graceful crescent. The sharp spear tip pointed directly at Vel'th's throat.

Vel'th mockingly laughed at his insignificant threat, extending one finger to press against the spear tip and slowly push it aside.

"A pitiful ant that attempts to defy predetermined fate will inevitably face cruel punishment... sooner or later."

Glancing at the Khan, Vel'th said with a cold laugh, "And... although I have waited a long time, and would not mind waiting a little longer, my detestable compatriots seem unwilling to let us continue. This undertaking truly has reached the point where it must end..."

"I will end it myself."

Vel'th patted the Khan's shoulder and lightly walked past him. The witch doctor's mocking laughter echoed through the night, gradually fading until it could no longer be heard.

A crescent moon shone once more. With a single swing of his arm, Khan Magra drove a swift strike born of grief, fury, and humiliation straight through the earth elemental's core.

As the fierce battle raged on, the two young Tauren were also facing an enemy they could hardly defeat.

"Is that all? Foolish creature, do you think such pathetic tricks can stand against a great Centaur?"

Warhammer and spear collided, scattering sparks.

By the light of a nearby illumination totem, Baine Bloodhoof swung his warhammer and struggled to withstand his opponent's storm of attacks.

Thrusts, sweeps, slashes—the spear techniques came too fast to follow. This clash between life and death was completely different from ordinary training. Every collision of weapons was a dance with death; one moment of carelessness could mean dying on the spot.

Under the pressure of death, Baine Bloodhoof gradually felt a peculiar power—the power of anger.

This power was born in his chest, then spread through his limbs and bones, driving away all fear. Even the sound of metal striking metal brought a different kind of thrill, making him crave battle, crave blood-soaked slaughter.

The heart of a warrior slowly awakened within his young body.

The combat talent inherited from the great Tauren warrior Cairne Bloodhoof had finally awakened! Powerful warrior instincts and accumulated training gave Baine extraordinary battle intuition. He began to instinctively infer his opponent's next move through his exertion and posture.

The next attack would be... a thrust!

Sure enough, a deadly stab came straight at him.

Baine knocked the spear aside with a backhanded strike. The sharp tip severed several strands of brown mane, and Baine followed up with a heavy swing, bringing the hammerhead down toward the Centaur's exposed chest.

This was his first somewhat successful attack. Baine had struck with all his strength, intending to severely wound his opponent, and for the first time, he had forced his opponent back.

However, Stone Spear gathered a little strength in his front hooves and evaded the dangerous blow with a simple backward leap. While still in the air, he thrust his spear twice in rapid succession, knocking away two crossbow bolts that came flying from the darkness with two sharp cracks.

Sian hid in the darkness, dragging his half-crippled arm as he struggled to cover his companion.

Do not underestimate the young hunter's marksmanship. He was Tamara Bloodhoof's most outstanding young apprentice. Even with his injuries, he had saved Baine's life several times with that battered crossbow.

Sian ran through the night, as his earlier shots had already exposed his position.

He clenched the crossbow stock tightly between his teeth, freeing his remaining hand to pull a bolt from the quiver at his waist, then laboriously cocked the crossbow.

He and Baine had been waiting for an opportunity, and that had been a very good one. The two, perfectly in sync, had indeed seized it. Yet even such exquisite coordination had achieved nothing.

Sian sighed. Although he had expected this outcome, he was still shocked by the enemy's strength.

Yet he continued running, because the two young Tauren had never given up hope of defeating their opponent.

They still carried courage in their hearts.

Young Sian marveled at his opponent's strength, while the attacker was terrified by their growth.

Stone Spear was filled with anger over those two arrows.

Even though he had anticipated the direction of the attack, the instant the arrows came at him, he felt the absurd sensation that hunter and prey had exchanged places. Instinct made him swing his spear without conscious thought, with no technique to speak of.

He had successfully knocked away the two arrows aimed at his neck and heart—even though he knew perfectly well that attacks of that caliber could not harm this perfect body in the slightest, even if they hit. Yet he had still instinctively dodged.

That unconscious reaction enraged him immensely—anger at the archer, and anger at himself.

What enraged him was that beneath this perfect body still lurked the humble heart of a Centaur.

With my master's blessing, I am different! I have ascended! I am no longer a mortal!

A man who thought himself extraordinary would naturally not embrace the mark of humiliation.

Even though he had warned himself countless times, the fear of nearly having his brain pierced not long ago made him experience once again the frailty of living creatures.

It was a fear born from the origin, rooted in life and dissolved into all things. It was what he desperately avoided and refused to acknowledge, yet it was also the blade that could expose false lies.

So... I am not perfect. Once that thought began to take root, it was like a venomous spider building a nest and spinning a web in his heart, gradually spiraling beyond control.

He refused to acknowledge it, but that ugly pretense had already driven him mad. Thus, he relentlessly hunted the two Tauren who had brought him fear.

He did not care whether a house cat had scratched a lion's face. He only wanted to torture them, kill them, and return the humiliation they had given him a thousandfold!

Yet in this ridiculous hunt, he gradually grew alarmed.

The hunter hidden in the shadows possessed superb archery, placing immense pressure on him. It was skill so extraordinary that even he, also an archer, could not help but marvel at it.

Thinking back, the child warrior in front of him had also been improving at a terrifying rate.

Like dry sponges, they greedily absorbed experience in their life-and-death struggle, transformed it, and put it back into use in battle. At first, they could only barely survive under the hunter's cover, but later, they could even find his openings.

What was even more outrageous was that he was not fighting seasoned warriors or experienced hunters, but two young calves who had not even reached adulthood!

This was simply unacceptable!

Fortunately, Stone Spear was not very educated, so he could not utter some awkward immortal line like, "This child is terrifying; he must not be allowed to live."

But he fully realized that even though only ten minutes had passed, this battle absolutely could not be dragged out any longer.

So, he put away his contempt and began to draw upon the powerful gift his master had just bestowed upon his body.

He turned his gaze toward the steady child warrior, then toward the pitch-black corner. With a turn of his head, he instantly decided which one to strike first.

Stone Spear's body gave off an earthen-yellow glow, and before Baine's horrified eyes, he melted into the ground.