Chapter Ten: "The Monster"

Arthas looked at Sylvanas, who was riding a white hawkstrider, and found the sight rather strange—he could not understand why High Elves would choose such a creature as a mount.

"Your Highness, do not underestimate the speed of a hawkstrider in the woods. They are far better suited for riding in the forest than warhorses," Sylvanas said, keenly sensing Arthas’s peculiar gaze. She explained this while checking the two short blades strapped to her thighs.

Arthas thought to himself that he was well aware of that; he simply found it awkward to see her sitting atop a fluffy, cute-looking creature, even though hawkstriders were actually predatory raptors and far from being cute.

Behind Sylvanas followed a squad of elite Farstrider rangers, and Arthas had brought his own Privy Knights as well. The curious rangers cast glances at their temporary comrades; they were veterans, yet they had never seen a knightly order like this from Lordaeron.

"Your Highness, let us depart."

Sylvanas adjusted her longbow on her back. Although the weakness caused by the curse made her uncomfortable, after the initial suppression by Priestess Lilian, she could still perform at fifty or sixty percent of her capability.

The two groups set off immediately from the outpost, heading toward a Farstrider stronghold located within the barrier of Ban'dinoriel.

On a hill about ten kilometers from the outpost, troll scouts watched the party of Arthas and Sylvanas, then followed closely behind to begin their operation.

Sylvanas rode her hawkstrider with extreme vigilance, her pointed ears finely discerning every message carried by the wind.

"Arthas, something is wrong," Sylvanas said, dropping the formal title and calling him by his name.

"What is it, my lady? What do you hear?" Arthas had no doubt about Sylvanas's abilities. Though she was cursed and greatly weakened, her perception of the environment remained undiminished.

"This stretch of the road is too quiet. Usually, I can hear the sounds of animals from far away, but now, they are all gone."

"It seems we guessed correctly. Tell everyone to be on alert; we may be ambushed at any moment. My lady, please continue to monitor the surroundings."

"Understood, leave it to me," Sylvanas said, leaning low over her hawkstrider, her longbow already unslung and in her hand.

In Sylvanas’s perception, the forest, typically rich with wildlife, seemed excessively silent—even the predatory lynxes had gone quiet. If it were only trolls, there would be no reason for the animals to stay so far away. Even when the elves were marching toward the outpost, the low growls of lynxes could still be heard; these creatures, enhanced by the stray magical energies of Quel'Thalas, were not easily frightened like ordinary animals.

A few minutes later, Sylvanas signaled to Arthas. "Movement. Judging by the weight and rhythm of the footsteps, they are troll scouts, and there are quite a few of them."

"Very well, they’ve taken the bait," Arthas replied briefly. "They followed us, which means they are confident they can take us down. It is highly likely there are powerful trolls among these scouts."

"The terrain will open up not far ahead! They will likely strike nearby!" Sylvanas judged quickly. The trolls would want nothing more than to engage them in close-quarters combat within the dense woods, and she would not let them have their way.

"I understand. Let us pick up the pace and reach the open ground!" Arthas snapped the reins, and his warhorse, sensing his intent, quickened its pace.

In the forest, the trolls spoke to each other in their obscure language.

"The pointy-ears have spotted us! They are accelerating to flee!"

"Catch them! Ready the nets!"

"For Zul'jin!"

Just as Arthas saw the forest thinning, a dull thud came from behind. He turned his head to see a ranger near the back pulled down, along with his mount, by a large net thrown by a troll headhunter.

Seeing the ranger about to be dragged back into the dense woods, Sylvanas turned, drew her bow, and fired three blind shots. The sound of arrows piercing flesh echoed from the woods, and the dragged ranger immediately came to a stop.

This capture seemed to be a signal. A dozen more snares flew from the woods on both sides, and several knights and rangers, unable to dodge in time, were caught dead-center.

"Prepare for battle!"

Arthas wheeled his horse around sharply. His warhammer ignited with searing Holy Light; with one sweep against the net trapping a knight, he burned a large hole through it. The others who were trapped were not idle either; the Privy Knights were all warriors of unnatural strength, and with the sharp edges of their vambraces, they twisted their bodies and broke free from their bindings. The freed knights quickly drew longswords and shields, forming a protective perimeter around the rangers—as warriors, protecting their comrades was their specialty.

The moment Arthas and his men set up their formation, countless throwing axes and spears flew from the forest, raining down like a storm upon the knights' shields. Arthas let out a cold snort, swinging his hammer to deflect all the incoming projectiles.

A troll leaped from the high canopy with two battle-axes, hacking toward Sylvanas. Sylvanas was helping a ranger break free; the moment she sensed the danger, she raised her longbow. The sturdy frame of the bow deflected the troll's heavy, powerful swing, and she pressed the bow against the troll’s throat, pulling it tight. The much larger troll was slammed to the ground, and before he could recover, the freed ranger decapitated him with a single stroke.

More trolls poured out of the forest, engaging the Privy Knights and elven rangers in a chaotic melee. They were the elite of the elite; despite being caught off-guard by the initial ambush, these troll scouts could no longer pose a substantial threat, relying only on their troublesome regenerative abilities and numbers to stall them.

A knight raised his shield to block a troll's spear and parried it away; Sylvanas emerged from behind the knight and killed the troll with a casual arrow.

"Damn it! Why isn't their Ranger General as weak as the witch doctors said?!"

The troll scout leader looked at the vibrant, energetic Sylvanas, completely unable to understand why this was the case. But the gathered troll scouts were no match for this group. He shouted hurriedly, "Mighty Halazzi! We require your aid!"

A dark, gloomy roar echoed from the deep jungle. Sylvanas’s expression faltered. "What kind of beast is that? A lynx’s roar is not this terrifying!"

The sudden roar seemed to have a soul-shattering effect; many knights and rangers slowed their movements upon hearing it, while the trolls became even more vigorous. With this, the advantage they had held was largely erased.

"That is no beast..." Arthas smashed an enemy with his hammer. "It seems the trolls truly want your head!"

"Heh, I shall take that as a compliment."

Arthas scanned the surrounding terrain and made a swift decision. "We cannot drag this out here. If the owner of that voice arrives, our situation will be dire—!"

Before the prince could finish his sentence, a rapid shadow darted out from the canopy. A blurred silhouette passed through the crowd and quickly vanished back into the dense woods.

Sylvanas’s pupils constricted. What had she just seen? A female elven ranger’s throat was gushing blood; she fell to the ground with an expression of disbelief, not even knowing what had killed her.

"Watch your back!"

At Arthas’s shout, Sylvanas spun around, finding two glowing green eyes staring at her. She instinctively reached for her bow to retaliate, but in her current physical state, she was much slower than usual. Before her hand could even grasp the bowstring, cold, gleaming claws were already reaching for her throat.

*Clang!*

After a crisp sound of collision, the black shadow retreated with blinding speed and plunged back into the darkness. Sylvanas held her longbow, watching the dark woods vigilantly, protected by a barrier of Holy Light.

"My lady, take the troops and leave first! I will hold that creature off!"

"What? But!"

"Your strength hasn't recovered, and that thing is too fast! In this kind of forest, once it gets close, I cannot guarantee I can save you again!"

The troll scouts were few in number and no longer a threat, but that single shadow could slaughter Arthas and Sylvanas's troops at will in these woods. They could not stay here!

If Sylvanas were at full strength and not hindered by the curse, Arthas could have easily found an opportunity to counterattack with her help. But the Windrunner was now no stronger than any other ranger here; staying would only be a burden to Arthas.

Sylvanas realized this. She stopped arguing, cast one look at Arthas, and whispered in Thalassian, "May the Sunwell be with you!"

"Warriors, we move!" Sylvanas mounted her hawkstrider and led the rangers and knights in a swift retreat from the forest.

The shadow did not emerge again during their withdrawal. Like a lynx, it would not strike unless it had absolute certainty.

Arthas’s hammer crushed the last troll attempting to flee, sending foul-smelling blood splattering everywhere. The prince raised his hammer, watching the departing troops, and prepared to focus his attention on the dangerous creature in the woods.

"It seems the mastermind behind this invasion is none other than Zul'jin... Has he already returned to Zul'Aman?"

When the shadow had attacked Sylvanas earlier, he had clearly seen its appearance—it was roughly the shape of a troll, but it possessed a lynx’s head, hair covered its limbs, and its hands had grown into sharp claws, creating a bizarre, discordant effect, like a monster artificially stitched together.