Huun Highmountain

A whiff of mirage-like fragrance wafted past Broxigar's nose, causing him to tense up instantly. A hairy figure with a sack around his waist abruptly stopped, holding a spear—clearly no ordinary weapon—and stared down at Broxigar. The large man snorted heavily, the gusts of air making his nose ring jingle slightly. His eyes, set with two black, glassy pupils, gleamed with a resolute gaze. His rough forehead was covered in wrinkles, and a pair of terrifying horns protruded from his head, with a bulge above his mouth and nose.

This is a Tauren... yet there are some differences. Broxigar was delighted to have found a member of the Horde from ten thousand years in the future so quickly, but he soon noticed something unusual: the minotaur's horns were fan-shaped, like coral, quite different from those of the Tauren tribe led by Cairne Bloodhoof.

In any case, he encountered a Tauren, but Broxigar was certain that he was not far from the Night Elf territory, so why did he discover the Tauren's trail so quickly?

"Who are you..."

"You speak my language? Who are you, outsider?" the unkempt minotaur asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

Broxigar paused for a moment, then cleared his throat and loudly introduced himself, "Broxigar Saurfang, the orc and warrior of Thrall, the Orcs the Warchief."

"My name is Huln, Huln Highmountain, wielder of the Eagle's Spear!" He raised his spear high, its sharp, curved tip resembling an eagle's horn. A leather strap was tightly bound between the metal spearhead and the shaft, inscribed with the language of the Tauren. Broxigar was no stranger to the Tauren; he knew the leather strap recorded the spear's history. "I know nothing of the Horde, nor of your chieftain Thrall, and I've never heard of the Orcs. Are you, like me, a visitor from afar?"

"Yes! It's a pleasure to meet you, Huln." Broxigar nodded, cutting to the chase. While it might be inappropriate to jump straight to the point, there was no time to waste. The Burning Legion's invasion was ongoing every second. "Where are your people, Huln? The world desperately needs their help, and of course, it needs the weapon in your hand. It should be able to easily destroy the demons' armor."

Upon hearing the word "clan," Huln appeared very sad, his fingers clenched into fists, as if something had touched his heart.

"I understand. You've come looking for reinforcements to fight the demons, and the person you're looking for... is me." Huln's eyes sharpened as he looked through Broxigar toward Sintalari, where the horizon met the sky.

"You? No!" Broxigar shook his head. "I'm looking for your people. If you're the only one..."

"I am enough. The Burning Legion's minions attacked my village, and now I am all that's left."

The Orcs placed his hand on his left chest in mourning, but his thoughts were now focused on finding more Tauren. The Tauren tribe that Huln Highmountain belonged to was likely just one branch of the Tauren; there were certainly many more Tauren allies to be found.

"In fact, I heard a call, a god summoned me to the kingdom of the Elf, asking me to help resist the Burning Legion. The god's name was Cenarius."

"Cenarius?" The Orcs was surprised to hear this name; it was the ancient demigod who had bestowed upon him the Oak Axe.

The Tauren before him nodded arrogantly, brandishing his spear to intimidate himself. His clothes were adorned with over twenty braids, most hanging around his chin. Each braid represented an opponent he had slain in battle; he had more enemies to eliminate, and talking to Broxigar seemed to have already wasted a considerable amount of time.

'That's right! Blackrock Spire seems to be facing a crisis right now. If we send this Tauren to provide support...' Broxigar looked at Huln again, confirming that he was a powerful Warrior, at least the weapon in his hand was not something an ordinary person could possess.

"If you want to destroy the demons, go to Blackrock Spire; they need your support."

A place left empty for too long will inevitably give rise to a new civilization. Nathanos was now beginning to doubt his own judgment. He didn't know where he was; all he saw was desolation. The trees were a sickly black, drained of life. Dangerous swamps lurked in the shadows. The sky was overcast, as if the sunlight would never reach this place. The air was sometimes filled with a sweet fragrance, and sometimes with the nauseating stench of rotting corpses.

"What is this?" Nathanos was startled by the object hanging from the tree. It was transparent, golden in color, and did not appear to be solid, but rather like grease.

"Amber?" The Undead was stunned. Before him, in the streets of Lordaeron, there were shops selling amber as ornaments, but there was a problem: those amber pieces were at most small enough to fit in a palm, while the one before him was large enough to fit a person. Amber is characterized by its rich inclusions, such as insects, plants, and minerals. However, Nathanos noticed that the amber hanging on the tree was remarkably clean, as if it had just formed. Curious, he moved closer, wanting to examine it more closely.

"That's amazing, this thing even has a certain temperature?"

The moment Nathanos reached out and touched the amber, the branch hanging from it suddenly snapped. The enormous piece of amber hurtled towards Nathanos, narrowly missing him, but thankfully he reacted quickly and stepped back. The amber, with a cake-like texture, shattered upon impact, splattering a sticky liquid.

"That was close!" Nathanos drew his weapon to defend himself. A little of the liquid stained Sulfuras and his clothes. The Undead sniffed the liquid carefully; it smelled sweet, the same scent that had been in the air earlier. Before he could think further, the sound of flapping wings came from nearby. Nathanos immediately hid behind a tree. He noticed another piece of amber, just like the one from before, hanging on the tree, but he had to wait and examine it later. Right now, he was more concerned with what was approaching. When he first arrived in this land, he hadn't detected any signs of intelligent life.

The charcoal-red eyes of the Undead gradually dimmed, and three floating figures emerged from behind several trees. Nathanos thought he was seeing things, even believing it to be an illusion, but the rough texture of the tree bark reminded him it was real. He had seen many intelligent beings, and regardless of their type, they all possessed human-like characteristics. But what appeared before Nathanos now were creatures he had never seen before, nor dared to imagine.

They resembled praying mantises, their wings flapping at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye. Their arms were as robust as Elf's, but unlike the insects he remembered, they had hands and five fingers, which was why Nathanos judged them to be intelligent. They drew closer until they reached the spot where the amber had fallen. Now the Undead could see more clearly: two chilling tentacles at their waists. They wore armor, though it was impossible to tell whether they had forged it themselves or if it was simply a part of their bodies.

Faced with the amber lying on the ground, the three mantis monsters exchanged bewildered glances, their heads darting around, their eyes seemingly filled with a huge question mark. One of them deliberately landed on the ground and reached its two tentacles into the amber, as if searching for something. Only then did Nathanos realize that the thing hanging in the tree was used for hunting, and the sweet scent emanating from it was specifically designed to lure prey.

"Cunning worm!" Nathanos cursed inwardly. He examined the remaining amber on the sword again and found it to be extremely viscous and difficult to clean, which further confirmed his suspicions.

Even a young child knows that mantises are not social insects, so the three creatures that appeared were clearly partners, which didn't make sense. But that wasn't all; next, the three mantis monsters began to speak, uttering incomprehensible words. Nathanos not only couldn't understand what they meant, but hearing their voices also made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

This situation ended quickly, not because Nathanos had gotten used to it, nor because the mantis monster had finished speaking, but because he was interrupted by a cheerful and playful voice.

The voice came from the sky. Nathanos looked up and saw a wisp of wind that was visible to the naked eye. There seemed to be a dark shadow in the wind with a long tail trailing behind it. In his memory, there was only one creature whose tail could match his height.

"Monkey?"

The gust of wind disappeared, and the monkey, looking somewhat panicked, struggled in the air for a few moments before falling, its laughter turning into a mournful howl. Nathanos could imagine it being smashed to pieces, but there were many branches around, so perhaps the monkey wouldn't die from the fall.

The mantis monsters flew off in that direction the moment the monkey fell. Nathanos hesitated whether to follow and see what was going on, but the monsters looked just as disgusting as the demons of the Burning Legion, and these insects were even more repulsive.

But they could also be potential allies!

This thought drove Nathanos; his heart urged him to follow. But the problem was, how could he communicate with the other side, or rather, how could he explain to it that he wasn't prey?

Looking at the white skeletons protruding from a patch of mud not far away, Nathanos was certain that this was the work of those mantis monsters, and that they were no pushovers.

"Forget it, let's go after them and see." Nathanos sighed. If he turned back now, he would gain nothing from this trip.

The Mantis Demon segment is adapted from the third level of the animated series "Fear" by Emperor Shaohao.