Mogu Invasion

"Are all your banquets like this?" Nathanos asked with a hint of helplessness. Old Wu didn't answer; he was already fast asleep, snoring, an empty wine glass still in his hand. The Witherer thought that if he woke up and found the glass empty, he would probably be very disappointed.

Since Old Wu said everything was fine, Nathanos was sent down to stop the chaos.

Empty wooden wine glasses were tossed around in the air, acting as fuses that ignited fight after fight. Those who had drunk too much didn't care and rushed to teach their opponents a lesson; those who still retained their rationality would show expressions of fear for being accidentally injured.

Anger and fear—everyone wears a different mask of expression, and some even switch between these two expressions.

Why hadn't Sha appeared? Nathanos wondered. He drank, hoping the wine would give him the answer. Unfortunately, he couldn't get drunk; the liquid in his mouth only provided a tingling sensation on his tongue.

In the crowd, Nathanos spotted a peculiar figure. Most people were focused on the wine, but one Pandaren was an exception. Dressed as an apprentice, he sat down and ate heartily. What struck Nathanos wasn't his appetite, but rather how he would stuff his mouth full before chewing, then gulp down a mouthful of wine.

His fellow disciples on either side were making a ruckus, but he seemed completely oblivious to his surroundings. When there wasn't enough food in front of him, he would reach for other people's dishes. Not to steal, but to take the dish and put it in front of himself.

Filled with curiosity, Nathanos rose and approached the Pandaren, carefully weaving through the frolicking crowd. The closer Nathanos got, the more he noticed another difference about this fellow—his size.

The general impression of Pandaren on Nathanos is that they are plump and kind. But this Pandaren in front of him is twice as strong as an average Pandaren, with muscles like knotted ropes, making it hard to believe that he is just an apprentice.

"Hello." Nathanos sat down opposite him. Fortunately, the Pandaren in this seat was flirting with a female Pandaren was also drunk.

The muscular Pandaren didn't glance at Nathanos; his eyes remained fixed on the vegetables and meat in his bowl. He merely nodded politely to indicate that he had noticed him.

The Witherer smiled and kindly brought him a plate of boiled duck eggs. To everyone's surprise, the guy shoved the whole plate into his mouth, then chewed a couple of bites of cured pork before swallowing what was in his mouth.

"My name is Nathanos. What's yours?"

The Pandaren's mouth was busy. He picked up a chopstick, dipped it in some wine, and wrote two words on the table: Zhaomo.

"You have a good appetite, Zhaomo," Nathanos greeted politely, watching Zhaomo eat as if he could never be full. "Being disturbed while enjoying a meal is very unpleasant. Why don't you find a safer place?" Nathanos glanced around, wary of a punch that might land on his face at any moment.

"There's no need to worry," Zhaomo said, chewing on his food. Nathanos blinked. "They can all distinguish reality."

The smile of the Witherer vanished. What does that mean?

...(A section of plot omitted here)

Two nights later, the Temple of the Jade Serpent was attacked. A loud noise startled Nathanos was meditating in the Twin Dragon Shrine.

The Witherer's first reaction was to reach for his sword, but a thought suddenly seized his mind. His right hand, which he tried to clench, was empty; Sulfuras had been left at Old Wu's house. Because no one in the Temple of the Jade Serpent was carrying weapons, Nathanos also tried not to be as cautious as before.

But at that moment he realized his mistake; the enemy was very close. The loud bang came from the direction of the tower where Elder Yunpu usually resided. Nathanos turned his head and saw that the top of the tower had been blasted to pieces like dust, with the dust slowly drifting beneath the flames.

With a few soft crackling sounds, time seemed to slow down. Nathanos noticed a small black dot illuminated by the flames, and suddenly, the Witherer leaped backward. Several arrows flew down.

A scarlet shaft, white fletching and stripes, and a hook designed to penetrate armor. The arrow stuck in the ground, striking only a few tiny petals.

In the distance, a voice cried out in the dim twilight. Immediately afterwards, the shrill cries and wails of war rose up.

Chaos reigned within the Temple of the Jade Serpent. Nathanos never fought a battle unprepared, but now he was truly unprepared. He had assumed there was no conflict on Pandaria, at least not among the Pandaren.

It was nighttime, Pandaren apprentices who had been training during the day were all asleep. They seemed somewhat caught off guard by the sudden battle.

Nathanos immediately ran towards Old Wu's house. First, he needed to retrieve his weapon, and then he needed to find out what kind of enemy the intruders were.

The situation was extremely dire. When Nathanos saw Old Wu, he found that Old Wu had already run out, still holding his sword and a hoe.

"Old Wu!" he called out. The Pandaren saw him too and threw Sulfuras over.

"You quickly retreat to a safe place. I'll go see what happened." The Witherer took the sword, feeling a surge of power.

Upon hearing this, Old Wu roared angrily. "No! No Pandaren are afraid of battle. Especially when the enemy is the Mogu, our mortal foe."

Upon hearing his precise voice, the Witherer cried out in confusion. He had never heard of any Mogu since arriving at Temple of the Jade Serpent, and Old Wu even referred to them as "mortal enemies."

What are the Mogu?

Old Wu didn't answer; now wasn't the time to ask questions. Ignoring Nathanos's warnings, the Pandaren had already gone outside the Zen Temple to join the battle. Many Temple of the Jade Serpent disciples were with Old Wu.

The Witherer stood frozen in place, none of them prepared for battle, yet they all threw themselves into the fight without hesitation.

Nathanos frowned even more deeply upon seeing the intruders in their entirety.

This was the first time he had ever seen Mogu, unlike the broken stone statues he had seen in the wild before. Real Mogu were muscular, with cold expressions, and even taller than Night Elf and Tauren. Nathanos admitted that even in dim light, he could see the stone-like bodies of the Mogu.

Could such an enemy be killed? Nathanos couldn't help but doubt, but he still chose to join the battle.

The number of enemies is impossible to estimate, but one Mogu must deal with two or three Pandaren at the same time.

A Mogu wielding a spiked spear jostled through the chaotic battlefield, seemingly searching for a leader on the Pandaren's side. His idea was sound, but Nathanos found him inexplicably heading straight for him.

This Mogu was only twice the height of Nathanos, and his shoulders were half again as wide. He wore an inner layer of chainmail over a thick plate armor, but his pace did not slow down in the slightest. He charged straight at Nathanos with astonishing speed.

The spear had an extremely short shaft, but a very long and exceptionally sharp blade, complete with a barb. The Mogu thrust the spear straight at him. Nathanos deflected it to the left with his sword. The spear struck a stone on the ground, sending sparks flying. The Witherer seized the opportunity, sweeping his sword horizontally, the tip slicing across the Mogu's neck, leaving a clearly visible gash.

No blood gushed out, but the Mogu still cried out in pain, clutching his neck and taking two steps back. His pain lasted only a few seconds; a few seconds later, his hands gripped his spear tightly again. His eyes were fixed on Nathanos, but the smile on his lips seemed to say that he had always known his opponent was a formidable enemy.

"You are wearing the Order of the Cloud Serpent clothing."

Nathanos looked down and suddenly remembered that Old Wu had once told him about the mysterious organization responsible for surrounding Pandaria.

"But we are powerful and fearless. My weapons will subject you to a thousand cuts and slashes."

The Witherer didn't retaliate with harsh words. He thought that if it were a flesh-and-blood race, that attack would have been fatal enough, but the guy he was facing had no flesh and blood.

The Mogu charged again. This time, he spun his spear left and right. Nathanos had never seen such a move before. He thought his opponent was going for a downward slash, so he raised his sword to parry. But unexpectedly, the spear shaft was reversed, and the tip of the shaft struck Nathanos's ribs with a powerful upward thrust. This move sent the Undead flying into the air. Nathanos immediately regained his balance, landing on the ground in a crouching position, barely managing to parry the Mogu's next attack, but he also staggered back several steps.

The Witherer continued slashing with his sword. The Mogu's spear almost grazed his head. He retaliated with a thrust, plunging through a gap in the armor and striking the Mogu's rocky body. Sulfuras severely wounded the Mogu's right leg, forcing him to his knees, but he didn't lose his will to attack. The spear came slashing horizontally at Nathanos's head.

The Undead lowered its center of gravity, dodging the sweeping spear attack. The opening before the opponent's weapon was ready for the next strike was its weakness. Nathanos seized the opportunity, drawing Sulfuras's secondary sword, Elemeini, and with all his might, precisely plunging it into the gaping wound in the Mogu's neck. The iron rings connecting the chainmail snapped with a thud. The Mogu fell at Nathanos's feet.