A Private Talk

Cenarius, a demigod, handed the axe to the Orcs: "It's yours."

The Orcs's eyes widened as he handled the gift, testing its weight. "The balance is perfect! It feels like part of my arm! But it's made of wood, like a toy. As for steel, it should be the best steel!"

"No," the King of the Forest interrupted him. "This battle axe has been blessed by me. Warrior, take it and witness the power of nature. You will find that it is stronger than any weapon you have ever used. You can trust me on that."

Broxigar fiddled with his newly acquired weapon once more, still somewhat skeptical.

The wailing in the forest grew louder; the enemy was approaching. The three prepared to fight.

As the first hellhound charged into their sight, Cenarius, the demigod, was the first to meet it, lightning flashing across the sky. His stomping shook the earth and even caused the ground to crack slightly. He clasped his hands together, and vines sprouted from his arms.

The hellhound leaped at Cenarius, clawing at him in an attempt to drain his magic. But mid-air, thorns suddenly burst forth from the ground, piercing him through.

The hellhounds closed in on Broxigar, drawing ever closer. The Orcs roared at the two, causing one of them to flinch slightly. Taking advantage of that moment of hesitation, the Orcs swiftly grabbed its opponent. The enchanted axe plunged deep into the hellhound's body, severing its forelegs as easily as cutting through air. Foul green blood splattered from the hellhound's body, flowing onto the grass and corroding the vegetation like acid.

The wounded hellbeast screamed and collapsed to the side, but its companions continued their charge, crashing into the Orcs. Broxigar struggled to his feet, trying to break free using the handle of his axe. He cleaved the axe deep into the monster's chest.

The hellhound's movements showed no sign of slowing down. It pressed down on Broxigar, its massive body rendering the Orcs unable to move.

Malfurion was also attacked; the hellhounds were eagerly closing in on him with their tentacles. Malfurion focused his attention. Cenarius had taught him to see nature as both a weapon and a companion. The Night Elf was trying to think according to his mentor's teachings.

The Night Elf conjured a whirlwind within his mind, swiftly enveloping the hellhound. The hellhound's powerful tentacles thrashed frantically, searching for magic. But Malfurion wasn't using magic; in fact, he didn't possess magic at all—it was the force of nature. Malfurion waved his right hand, summoning leaves from the surrounding trees. Hundreds of leaves fell from the towering canopies. Malfurion continuously channeled the newly fallen leaves into the whirlwind. Within this whirlwind, the strong leaves tore through the hellhound's flesh, preventing them from getting close.

Leaves continued to be added to the whirlwind, spinning faster and faster, and their numbers increased. At first, the hellhound paid no attention to the leaves, as they didn't pose much of an obstacle. But when the sharp edge of a leaf cut its nose, blood flowed.

Enraged, the demon lashed out at the offending leaves, only to find its hands, legs, and torso covered in wounds. In its panic, the hellhound injured itself. The whirlwind had now intensified a hundredfold; the edges of the whistling leaves were like sharp blades, slicing the demon open wherever they went. A green, muddy liquid oozed from the demon's body, soaking its fur and even blurring its vision.

Cenarius continued his struggle with the beast attacking him. The demon's wailing echoed the King of the Forest's terrifying roar. He seized the hellhound's foreleg, which it had offered itself up, and deftly snapped its bone. The demon howled, its tentacles writhing in agony.

Broxigar and the hellbeast were locked in fierce combat, and the Orcs was on the verge of being crushed. Despite having two opponents, the experienced Orcs was still fighting with all his might.

Malfurion noticed that he was struggling, so he began to chant a spell.

A gust of wind swept through the hellhounds, giving them a warning before letting Broxigar deal with them. However, the final result far exceeded Malfurion's expectations.

An invisible, powerful force caused the air to spin violently, forming a hurricane that rushed towards the target. The hurricane spun and spread out, covering the entire area in the blink of an eye.

He barely felt anything as he passed through Broxigar. But for the hellhounds, the hurricane was filled with the fury of nature. They had no time to react, no time for their greedy tentacles to work. They were like ants on a hot plate.

The hurricane swept through, turning the hellbeasts to ashes. The Druids's power subdued the hellbeasts, and as they were annihilated, particles of dust dissipated from each one. These once invincible monsters let out a brief roar before being sent to hell.

The woodland was once again filled with tranquility.

Broxigar dropped his axe. He was utterly incredulous at the sight, his mouth agape. Malfurion stared at his own hand, bewildered. He turned to Cenarius, seeking an explanation.

Cenarius was about to answer when a voice suddenly interrupted him.

"Another enemy!"

The Druids's attention was abruptly drawn to the sight of a hellhound charging towards him. However, as some indistinct incantations rang out, the terrifying hound's body slowly withered away.

The demigod grabbed Malfurion's arm and lifted him up with astonishing strength. "Your strength is as great as your faith in the forest."

The Druids had no time to ponder that statement. Suddenly, a pack of hellbeasts leaped out of the woods. A rough estimate suggested a ten-to-one ratio of enemies to allies. Their target was the Orcs and Druids.

Cenarius chanted a few short incantations. Suddenly, some sharp spikes sprouted from the ground, growing as tall as a Night Elf.

The three-headed hellhound let out a mournful howl as a sharp stone pierced its body. But the other demons were gradually closing in.

Cenarius once more channeled his power, his thick, leafy branches stretching downwards to hook the four hellhounds, then pulling them into the dense canopy. After a few struggles, they fell silent. Malfurion had no idea what had become of these unfortunate creatures, but they were surely gone forever.

The remaining trees simply stretched out their branches, attacking the Charge Burning Legion at opportune moments. One hellhound tripped and fell helplessly to the ground; another was struck hard without warning.

Nevertheless, the hellhounds continued to swarm towards them. These vicious dogs approached slowly, their eyes filled with greed; clearly, they were hungry.

A thunderous roar echoed through the forest. Malfurion turned and saw a terrifying figure—a colossal being with horns on its head and fire in its eyes, lashing the defeated hellhounds with a horrible whip. This newcomer was taller than the other demons, and they even made way for him; Malfurion figured he must be their leader.

To Malfurion's surprise, the demon did not immediately draw its whip a second time. Instead, it hissed at Cenarius, saying, "Demigod, come and witness the power of the Burning Legion!"

Cenarius coughed and cleared his throat. "I am Cenarius, the guardian of this forest, and I demand that you leave this land immediately!"

Malfurion shuddered at the thought of his brief encounter with Archimonde, and thus he wholeheartedly agreed with the mage's assessment. He could almost picture how the demons would treat their prisoners, especially those who had consistently hindered them, and so he declared, "We will never surrender!"

The demon's fiery eyes flashed with rage as he raised his whip and lashed it several times. Each strike sent flames flying.

"Guardian, you are courting death! Hand over the Night Elf and the Orcs, and I will grant you a chance to live."

The demigod steadied himself, staring intently at the demon leader, a murderous glint in his eyes. "Unlike you, they are my guests. Leave quickly, or the forest's wrath will be merciless."

Malfurion walked to his mentor's side. "No matter what happens, we are with you, Great Master."

The demon leader let out a cold laugh and continued to brandish the whip in his hand.

"If I'm not mistaken," Broxigar muttered, "He should be Hakkar the Houndmaster. My brother Varok once defeated him!"

Haka, in the distance, burst into laughter, like the hiss of a thousand enraged serpents. He pointed at Cenarius, and all the hellhounds charged at the demigod.

Countless Night Saber riders suddenly surged into the battlefield from all directions. Before the demons could react, the riders' mounts had already knocked several enemies to the ground.

Malfurion stared in disbelief, and it took him a while to realize that these people weren't from the royal guards, nor from Blackrock Spire. They were all women! Members of the Sisterhood of Elune.

Malfurion saw Tyrande engage in battle for the first time. Many wielded curved longswords, while others carried shortbows, swiftly firing arrow after arrow.

Many hell beasts were pierced and fell to the ground, their bodies riddled with quills. The priestess, with the composure of Warrior, wielded her weapon, and with a swift stroke, a hellhound was decapitated. Two Night Saber pounced on another hell beast, tearing at its body from both sides until only a bloody corpse remained.

Just as Malfurion was about to call Tyrande, he saw Haka charge towards her. The priestess was completely unaware of the Hound King and his whip stealthily approaching. Just as the whip was about to encircle her throat, her Night Saber subtly shifted to the side, preventing the whip from locking her throat but instead binding her hands. Then, the Hound King yanked sharply, dragging Tyrande off his mount.

"Watch out!" Malfurion shouted and charged toward her.

Broxigar slashed down a demon. "Elf, it's dangerous there!"

Malfurion had only Tyrande in his eyes. He charged headlong toward his target, leaping toward Haka. The Druids's desperate pounce was futile against the Hound King's massive body, but the attack did distract the demon. The whip that had been tightly binding Tyrande loosened, and the priestess gently fell to the ground.

"Reptile!" the Hound King cursed, grabbing the Druids by the shoulder and slamming him to the ground. A whip lashed out, and Malfurion cried out in excruciating pain. The Hound King lashed out a second, then a third, and Malfurion felt himself about to lose consciousness!

"I would be happy to taste the blood from your skull," Haka said with a sneer, adding another lash of his whip.

The terrifying behemoth raised its whip once more.

Malfurion raised his hand to shield his eyes. He felt no pain, but he heard Haka's scream. He opened his eyes and saw that the Hound King's hand, which had been wielding the whip, had been severed.

The demon leader retreated, clutching his bloody wound.

The Druids didn't notice that there was someone else beside him, and that person was looking at Haka with one hand outstretched towards him.

'Is he an ally?' Malfurion pondered, then reached out to touch the hand of his savior.

'It's so cold!' The Druids stood up and then noticed that the man's eyes were blood red. Haka's arm was at his feet, and the sword in his hand was stained with blood.

"Kill him!"

Malfurion snapped out of his daze; his priority now was to defeat the enemy. He looked up at the sky, where the dense clouds offered a glimmer of hope.

The more you believe in the forest, the stronger you become.

The Druids took a deep breath and began to channel. The clouds in the sky churned, turning into a furious, dark mass. The clouds rumbled, and lightning struck down from the sky, hitting the enormous demon with pinpoint accuracy.

Haka let out a painful roar, his entire body bathed in dazzling light, his arms outstretched as if trying to embrace the beam of light that was destroying him. His cries of agony echoed through the heavens.

Nathanos covered his eyes with his hand, marveling at the power of the Druids.

The light that had descended from the sky gradually faded away... The demon leader's corpse turned to ashes and lay helplessly on the grass.

The hellhounds let out a tremendous wail, and their bodies began to glow. In an instant, all the hell beasts vanished, leaving only their wailing echoing in the air.

"Thank you, warrior." Malfurion turned to look at Nathanos. "But who are you?"

"Undead?" Broxigar walked over, gripping his battle axe tightly.

Nathanos's eyes darted around, and he noticed that apart from the Orcs, there were no humans present. "Orcs, you escaped too?"

"I remember now." Tyrande approached, but the stench of death emanating from Nathanos kept her at bay. "You were captured along with Broxigar, but weren't you taken away by Queen Azshara?"

"Broxigar? Your name?" Nathanos asked.

"I can only utter the name 'Higa' to those I trust, and you... you can only call me Broxigar. Who are you, Undead?"

Cenarius's hoofbeats interrupted their conversation, and while everyone's eyes were on him, the demigod had only Nathanos in his sights.

"Clean up the battlefield and heal the wounded, Malfurion. As for you..." Cenarius and the Undead exchanged glances. "We need to talk alone."