In the distance, Malacrass slowly rose from the ground. He seemed to have been knocked a long way back, but Patrick knew through his spiritual perception that he had actually suffered little damage. As the trolls' most powerful recipient of divine protection, the Hex Lord had already covered himself in a defensive layer by the time the Arcane Missiles reached him.
So although the Arcane Missiles appeared to have blasted Malacrass far, far away, he had actually suffered only some minor physical damage-barely even a scratch.
Watching the Hex Lord slowly rise, Patrick had achieved his objective. His main purpose had been to interrupt the ritual and prevent the trolls of Zul'Aman from obtaining the Animal Gods' divine power.
[Powerful hex energy lurks within Malacrass's body. The chances of defeating him head-on are low, but using spellcasting techniques to combine small compound spells and directly interrupt his ritual is child's play.] Ellen's voice reached him.
I can't give Malacrass a chance. I have to destroy the ritual in one push, Patrick thought.
Patrick began projecting divine power into the surrounding space. Arcane power interfered with the reality around him as he flew straight toward Malacrass's altar.
A large lynx lay before the altar, with a skull-adorned dagger driven into each of its four limbs, dark light flickering over them. Some witch doctor's bottles and jars had also been set before it. The fumes rising from the jars left the lynx utterly drained when it inhaled them, unable to resist, leaving it pinned to the altar.
There were corpses nearby as well: trolls, High Elves, and even humans. Their heads had been severed, and their blood flowed into the altar's blood channels, giving off a faint red glow. Several large cauldrons stood behind the altar. Presumably, once the blood sacrifice was