Uther's warhammer smashed the skull of a Troll before him. The Grand Knight effortlessly cleared a wide space around himself.
The power of the Holy Light strengthened Uther's body. Though it could not grant him the power to shatter mountains or destroy the world, and ordinary blades could still wound him, the extraordinary was still extraordinary. An ordinary Troll could not withstand even a single blow from Uther.
Under the repeated charges of Lordaeron's cavalry and the elves' precise arrows, the Troll vanguard finally began to show signs of collapse.
An old Troll hunter recognized their disadvantage. Wielding a pair of battle axes, he drove back a Paladin's attack, then charged toward Uther, who was clearly the backbone of the human forces.
The Lightbringer watched the fierce Troll hunter approach and calmly tightened his grip on his warhammer, ready to meet him. Vast power from the Holy Light gathered around the hammer's head, poised to deliver a crushing blow.
But before the Troll could even get into stride, a warhammer formed from the Holy Light streaked across the battlefield like lightning. Before he could dodge, it slammed into his face.
The tall, headless body slowly toppled, its severed neck charred black as though scorched by intense heat. Even after killing the Troll hunter, the hammer of Holy Light still had power to spare, triggering a violent explosion among the Trolls.
The corner of Uther's mouth lifted. With a turn of his arm, he knocked down a Troll lunging at him from behind, then crushed his skull with a powerful blow.
Arthas arrived on the battlefield at the head of twenty Secret Council Knights, leading them in an unstoppable charge into the Troll formation.
Blazing Holy Light enveloped the [Might of Menethil]. Every swing of Arthas's arm sent two or three Trolls crashing to the ground with agonized cries.
The regenerative ability they took such pride in was useless against Arthas and his Secret Council Knights. Their strikes were precise and lethal, each killing in a single blow.
As more and more Trolls fell, the vanguard finally broke. They swiftly retreated into the dense forest, fleeing in disarray and leaving hundreds of corpses behind.
Only then did the brilliant Holy Light surrounding Arthas slowly fade. He rode back to Uther's side. "Sorry, teacher. I'm a little late."
"You came at just the right time, Arthas." Uther leaned on his warhammer, showing no sign of exhaustion. Compared with the intensity of the war against the Orcs, these Trolls put far too little pressure on him.
"Have the troops clear the battlefield. We need to go to headquarters. The situation is rather complicated." Arthas sent soldiers to clear the battlefield alongside the elves and had the Paladins and Priests stand by in case the Troll corpses carried a Voodoo Curse.
Once they reached the command tent, Uther also noticed the curse afflicting Sylvanas. He frowned, recognizing that it would be difficult to deal with. "What happened to Lady Windrunner?"
"She may have been cursed by a high-ranking Troll priest. I have a way to dispel it, but I'll need time," Arthas briefly explained.
By then, all the human and elven commanders had gathered in the tent to discuss their next move.
"Thank you for Lordaeron's aid. I won't waste words. Based on my scouts' reports and my own assessment, there are more Trolls than we initially expected." Sylvanas looked much better after Lilian's preliminary treatment, and she briskly laid out the current situation.
"How many are there now?" Uther asked.
"At present, there could very well be more than twenty thousand."
Sylvanas's voice was somewhat somber. The difference in their numbers was simply too great.
"So the Outpost's defenses alone cannot hold off their assault. We must retreat inside the Ban'dinoriel barrier and rely on it and the fortress to stop the Trolls."
"We've repelled another wave of attacks without suffering heavy losses, but we must withdraw before their next assault."
Sylvanas traced a line across the map, indicating their destination.
"I have a question, my lady," Uther said, voicing his concern. "We still haven't established why the Trolls have gathered so many troops. If their only aim is to attack Quel'Thalas, they could easily bypass our heavily defended fortress and attack elsewhere."
"That worries me as well." Sylvanas shared his concern, but the Farstriders' shortage of manpower was undeniable. "Fortunately, the other fortresses have teleportation arrays. If the Trolls attack them, we can send reinforcements as quickly as possible."
Arthas stared at the map on the table, his brow furrowed. Somewhat uncertainly, he said, "No... that's not right. The Trolls aren't attacking without a purpose."
"Oh?"
Everyone present turned their attention to Arthas, eager to hear the prince's thoughts.
"You just mentioned that the Farstriders are short-handed. As your longtime enemies, the Trolls must be well aware of that," Arthas began to analyze. "If I were their commander, I'd take advantage of your troop movements to launch a feint here, then send my main force to attack elsewhere. After all, they outnumber us at least ten to one."
After hearing him out, Sylvanas nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Whoever commands these Trolls cannot be a fool. With easier targets available, they shouldn't be coming here to fight us to the bitter end."
"And yet the Farstriders have been tied down at this Outpost for several days. If the Trolls still haven't attacked the other fortresses, that means the force here probably isn't a diversion, but their main army..." Arthas's gaze drifted toward Sylvanas. Taking the curse afflicting her into account, he felt he was already very close to the answer.
"Lady Windrunner, I think I know what the Trolls are after."
"What is it?"
"They aren't after anything else. They simply want to lure you and your troops out from behind Ban'dinoriel."
Arthas's answer stunned everyone. Their instinct was to object, but Sylvanas spoke first.
"Doesn't that sound rather absurd? They're waging this war to inflict greater casualties?"
"It may sound absurd, but it fits the Trolls' strange behavior," Arthas explained. "Otherwise, they could simply attack elsewhere. If all they wanted was to pillage and slaughter, or take revenge, there would be no need to clash head-on with the Farstriders' main force here."
"So they've gathered here, even going so far as to use several tribal Witch Doctors as bait, either to capture or kill you, or to wipe out the Farstriders entirely."
"And since these Trolls are very likely being commanded by their high-ranking priests, I suspect they're seeking sacrifices to revive the Loa."
"As the leader of the Farstriders and a powerful Ranger in your own right, Lady Windrunner, you fit the Trolls' usual criteria for a sacrifice very well."
The Ranger officers lowered their heads in thought. The Trolls' behavior truly was different from before. They usually attacked wherever the defenses were weakest, yet this time, they had waited until the elves had assembled their forces before striking the hardest target.
If they had previously believed the Trolls were simply confident in their numerical advantage, Arthas's words now made them consider this possibility despite themselves.
"But how can you be certain?" Sylvanas asked after a moment of silence.
Arthas answered without hesitation. "Of course I can't be certain yet. But we can test the Trolls. If they take the bait, it will prove my assessment right."
Sylvanas narrowed her eyes, her long lashes trembling slightly. An amused expression appeared on her delicate, pale face. "How do you intend to test them?"
"They set a trap with bait. We can do the same." Arthas's smile grew knowing. "After all, Trolls prefer living sacrifices to corpses."
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