"My Lady! They're attacking again!"
At the elves' eastern forest front, a breathless elven Ranger burst into the rear command post, delivering an urgent battle report.
"Damn those trolls!"
Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner, who had been speculating about the trolls' specific intentions and possible attack routes, swiftly grabbed her longbow and rushed to the front line without a moment's hesitation.
"—Farstriders, in the name of the Sun, hold the line!"
At this moment, the elven Rangers were unleashing a volley of arrows at the trolls attempting to breach their defenses. However, the trolls, relying on their powerful self-healing abilities, clutched their battered wooden shields, relentlessly trying to close the distance for melee combat.
The elves' position was merely an outpost established by the Farstriders Rangers. Aside from basic roadblocks, there were no tall walls for defense, and even the mana crystals needed to maintain a magic barrier were scarce. This meant the magical barrier couldn't be kept continuously active and could only be deployed during critical moments.
Under these challenging circumstances, Sylvanas herself wasn't sure how long her fifteen hundred rangers could hold out. She could only hope that the promised reinforcements would arrive swiftly; otherwise, they would be forced to retreat behind the main barrier, a humiliation unprecedented for the Farstriders in a thousand years. The number of trolls was even greater than initial scout reports suggested. Sylvanas estimated that their numbers might already be around eight thousand, and that count was still rising.
This left Sylvanas, who had battled trolls for many years, utterly perplexed. Were these trolls insane? They gathered an army potentially tens of thousands strong, only to retreat daily after leaving dozens or hundreds of corpses on the front line? Even she, a seasoned veteran of troll skirmishes, was at a loss, but there was too little information available for proper analysis. Sylvanas could only keep her questions to herself; her immediate attention had to be on the unfolding battle.
With practiced ease, Sylvanas pulled an arrow from her quiver, nocking it onto her longbow. She drew the bowstring taut and fired a precise, devastating shot, piercing directly through the shield and head of a charging troll. The Ranger-General effortlessly picked off any trolls that drew too close or threatened their line, relying on her unmatched skill.
Just then, a cry of pain reached Sylvanas's ears. Her pointed ears twitched slightly, and her gaze flickered over. An elven Ranger had been grazed on her right arm by a spear thrown by a dying troll, temporarily losing her ability to shoot. But another Ranger quickly took her place, and the injured ranger was promptly carried to the rear by her comrades for treatment, to check for any lingering troll voodoo.
After this brief interlude, Sylvanas, with her exceptional eyesight, spotted a hunched figure wearing a strange mask and leaning on a staff. The figure appeared in the distant afterglow of the setting sun. Sylvanas subconsciously drew a specially made magic-breaking arrow, nocked her bow, and took aim, but a moment later, she released the tension. A flicker of displeasure crossed her exquisite face—the witch doctor was simply too far away. This opponent wasn't a mindless troll cannon fodder; at such a distance, she couldn't guarantee a one-shot kill.
"Closer…" Sylvanas silently calculated the witch doctor's distance, then left the front line, swiftly and silently leaping onto a large tree. No matter how many ordinary trolls died, it wouldn't truly help; it would merely help the trolls reduce the number of individuals competing for food. But killing a witch doctor could severely cripple an entire clan. And in the past few days, Sylvanas had already eliminated two or three troll witch doctors.
The witch doctor seemed oblivious to the danger, wandering around the rear of the battlefield with a few trolls. He wasn't seen casting voodoo spells, as the power of the elves' arrows at this range was not fatal to trolls. However, Sylvanas's effective killing range was far greater than that of an ordinary Ranger!
Finally, the witch doctor entered the range where Sylvanas felt absolute confidence. The Ranger-General's expression was calm and ruthless, the magic-breaking arrow held steadily on her bowstring.
"Swish!"
A faint whoosh sounded as Sylvanas's arrow precisely pierced the witch doctor's mask, slipping through the gaps between several troll guards. The old troll collapsed to the ground, and the strange wooden mask fell, splitting into two. However, when Sylvanas saw the face behind the mask, she immediately realized something was terribly wrong.
—That was the facial marking of a troll slave?
—This wasn't a witch doctor at all, but a decoy!
"Elf, you fell for it."
A strange laugh seemed to echo past Sylvanas's ears. Her expression darkened, and she quickly moved to return to the front line. At the same time, Sylvanas felt as if her heart was being forcefully squeezed, and intense pain spread throughout her limbs; even standing upright required immense willpower. She immediately realized that this was a decoy specifically set for her by the trolls, who had even deliberately sacrificed several witch doctors in the past few days to make her lower her guard!
The trolls' voodoo magic was extremely bizarre. The troll slave must have been afflicted with several powerful curses by witch doctors. The magic ornament Sylvanas wore instantly shattered after resisting only a portion of it, becoming dull and lifeless. Weakness permeated her entire body, and cold sweat beaded on Sylvanas's forehead.
The trolls' seemingly loose offensive these past few days had made her forget their cunning and vicious nature. Relying on the magic pendant crafted by the Archmage of Silvermoon City, she had completely ignored the potential risks of killing witch doctors. This had been a fatal mistake.
Using hundreds of troll corpses and the lives of several witch doctors, the trolls had successfully dealt a heavy blow to the elves' Ranger-General. Just as Sylvanas was wounded, the ominous sound of troll war drums echoed through the forest, and countless troll warriors surged out, forming a dark green tide that swarmed towards the front line.
"Hold the line!" Sylvanas gritted her teeth and gave the order, immediately activating the outpost's magic barrier. This could resist the trolls' assault, but under their fanatical attack, with the existing mana crystals, it wouldn't last more than a few hours. The Rangers' arrows rained down like a torrent into the troll army, piercing countless frenzied trolls, but these fearless creatures trampled on the corpses of their kin, continuing their fervent charge.
Sylvanas, supported by two close guards, left the front line. After returning to the command tent, Sylvanas's face became contorted with pain, and dense black lines appeared on her fair neck. The elven priests quickly came to treat her, but their dispel spells couldn't remove the curse on her—that power was stronger than any voodoo they had ever seen. One priest could only use Holy Light to suppress Sylvanas's pain, and the Windrunner's complexion improved slightly. "Thank you, I feel much better."
"Lady Windrunner" the elven priest's expression was extremely grave. "This curse is beyond my ability to dispel. I can only temporarily suppress your pain with Holy Light."
"At least I can still fight now." Sylvanas still wanted to pick up her longbow and continue fighting.
"No, My Lady, using your own strength will make this curse spread faster. My advice is to return to Silvermoon City immediately for treatment by an Archmage or High Priest." The elven priest said sternly, "Fighting now is suicide."
"But the Farstriders are still fighting bravely! How can I retreat first?" Sylvanas's unyielding attitude made her subordinates very difficult. They all knew that the fall of this outpost was only a matter of time once the magic barrier was breached by the trolls. Now it was no longer a question of whether to fight, but how to evacuate. Although the trolls couldn't bypass the position and set up an ambush directly on the retreat path, their movement speed in the forest was not slower than that of the elves. Once caught, the Rangers' relatively weak melee combat ability, compared to their ranged combat ability, would lead to heavy losses in close-quarters combat.
Sylvanas was well aware of this, and as her expression flickered between uncertainty and resolve, a low horn blast echoed into the command tent.
"What is that sound?" The elves' hearing was very keen; even with the clamor of battle outside, they could still catch this unique horn blast.
Sylvanas's eyes lit up. "That's Lordaeron's attack horn! Our reinforcements have arrived!"
She had actually given up hope for reinforcements long ago, and had almost uttered the word 'retreat' just moments ago, but now the situation had taken a dramatic turn for the better!