Sharp spears are effective against enemies who don't have any decent armor, but they do have the disadvantage of being difficult to move around when they are in close combat.

Although Paul wanted to use his spear shaft to fend off the jackal's attack, the opponent's movements were very agile, and it was too late.

"Bang!"

There was a muffled thud, and Paul's eyes widened.

A huge iron rod came out of nowhere, and slammed the gnolls out of the way as they lunged at Paul.

He barely had time to scream half of it, and the remaining half was strangled to death in the gnoll's throat.

The body that had fallen to the ground had twisted into an eerie posture - it was natural, and even wearing iron armor a few inches thick could not have been intact in the face of such an impact.

"Chief Lothar!"

Paul looked at Marlon in front of him in surprise and shouted.

"Focus, Paul, there are more enemies than you think!"

Malone yelled at Paul, who had just been a little distracted, and then rushed to the gnolls gathered in front of him.

"Yes! Sir Lothar! ”

Paul felt a little ashamed, but he quickly picked himself up and followed Marlon and charged at the enemy.

To the east of the Gnoll camp is the Elwin River, with Malone and Paul charging to the west, and human soldiers to the south and north to break into the Gnoll camp.

Although the number of the Xiquan garrison was small, only a few people, the jackals did not have a neat queue, and their lineup was extremely chaotic.

After all, it is not a properly trained army, and the jackals with a ferocious nature are crushed in the face of human armies that are even more ferocious than them.

In less than ten minutes of hand-to-hand combat, nearly twenty gnolls died at the hands of the Xiquan garrison, and many more chose to drop their weapons and fled in all directions.

To the south, there were three human soldiers, apparently the most difficult to escape; There were only two people on the west side as there were on the north side, but Marlon wielded the giant iron rod he had picked up from the gnolls like a lumberjack, and everywhere he went, the gnolls' thin bodies turned on their backs.

There was no time to choose, and a large number of gnolls chose to flee north; This put a lot of pressure on the two human soldiers to the north.

However, Marlon had already ordered these gnolls to let them go if they wanted to escape, so the two human soldiers did not deliberately block them, but consciously avoided the impact of the gnolls deserters.

Seeing more and more gnolls laying down their weapons, Malone knew that the battle was over.

In the era of cold weapons, warfare never relied on the sword to kill; By the time one of the two sides of the battle begins to flee, the winner is decided.

However, the somewhat careless Marlon forgot a little - the world of Azeroth is not a world where cold weapons are king, and in addition to swords, there are also magical spells here.

Among the running gnolls, Malone was surprised to find that a small group of gnolls did not run away, but bravely stood in front of him.

"Where did these guys get their courage?"

Paul dealt with the enemy in front of him, and muttered to Marlon's side, intending to charge at the small group of gnolls.

However, Malone's instincts told him that the group of gnolls was dangerous, and after a little closer inspection, he noticed a difference.

A gnoll in leather armor was surrounded by other gnolls, his figure looked a little rickety, but he held a wooden cane in his hands, and his arms were held straight forward, pointing the tip of the cane at Paul beside Marlon.

With a soft sound, a pale blue electric light shot out from the tip of the cane and rushed towards Paul's face.

"Get out of the way!"

Malone only had time to push Paul and get him out of the place where he had been.

Just as Malone withdrew his hand, the blue lightning grazed his fingertips and flew through the air, flying behind him.

A paralyzing tingle spread from Marlon's fingertips to all parts of his body, and he tilted his head slightly, and saw the lightning bolt heading straight for a small tree in the distance.

With a "boom", lightning struck the trunk of the small tree, and the thick trunk of the bowl was immediately split in two, half of it became charred and blackened, and fell to the grass by the river, and the other half burned into a raging flame.

"Shaman?"

Paul exclaimed.

Marlon narrowed his eyes and looked coldly at the old jackal surrounded by four or five gnolls, and the other party seemed to be a little incredulous about the lightning arrow, and let out a snoring roar.

The gnoll shaman, when he was in the Westspring Fortress, Paul and the others had a lot of dealings with these guys.

Just as there are people in the human race who have a talent for arcane arts and can become mages, and some people who are friendly with the Holy Light can become priests, there is also this talent gap among the Gnolls.

Some gnolls are capable of casting spells, as both anthropologists and the soldiers they fight know about, though no one can say why.

These gnolls seem to cast spells with more ease than the mages from Dalaran, and of course they have a limited number of spell types.

The human soldiers refer to these gnolls as shamans, as they look like the clan/religious leaders of the gnolls.

A hundred human soldiers can defeat a thousand gnolls when assembled, but when there is a shaman among the gnolls, those strange spells can sometimes affect the outcome of the war.

Like now.

"Stand back, Sir Lothar!"

Paul shouted at Malone.

Malone didn't respond, he seemed to be in a daze.

"Damn ......"

Paul cursed under his breath, he didn't know what Chief Lothar was thinking right now, but he knew he had to do something.

Gripping his spear, Paul rushed towards the group of gnolls, his hand-wound crossbow bobbing up and down as he ran.

Closer, closer.

- Paul said to himself, if he got any closer, the deadly bolts would show the gnoll shaman how weak they really were.

However, Paul's speed is naturally not as fast as lightning, and just now Malone was able to push him away, most of which was also an element of luck.

A pale blue bolt of lightning shot out from the top of the gnoll shaman's staff, and Paul knew he was a live target, but he had no choice but to rush forward.

However, Paul miscalculates the shape of the shì - the lightning flashed not far from him, leaving only a dizzying afterimage.