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With her spell slots depleted during the battle, Summer Night Autumn Rain decided to follow the main forces back for a long rest, leaving the trio to venture deeper into the Karkar Mountains.

This desolate mountainous region north of the Storm Highlands was steeped in countless legends. Tales of brain-devouring giant yetis, wailing spectral towers, and ghostly snow shadows were widely told across the Northern Lands.

“Whoosh—”

The howling wind swept across, frosting the rocks and bringing a chill to the valley.

“Damn it, this… this place is freezing,” Mantou muttered through chattering teeth, puffs of white smoke escaping his nostrils.

“Serves you right for not preparing ahead. Now you’re paying the price,” Singo chided, tossing a blue potion to Mantou. It was a Cold Resistance Elixir made from rare magical herbs that grew underground—a relatively valuable potion.

Mantou uncorked the bottle and gulped it down, feeling warmth ignite within his stomach, as though a furnace had been lit.

“Much better,” he sighed.

“Good one, Singo,” Mantou said, giving him a thumbs up.

“Great stuff!”

Born Battle Maniac, thanks to his Barbarian physique, wasn’t as affected by the cold but still drank his prepared elixir. Warm steam rose from his body, and white puffs shot from his nostrils, making him feel invigorated.

“Hoo—hoo—”

A sharp sound echoed again.

“Stay alert. That doesn’t sound like just wind—prepare for combat!” Singo warned sharply.

The noise was more than just the wind howling through the valley; it carried a chilling, mournful wail akin to a wolf’s howl.

Strange shadows flitted across the cliffs on either side of the valley, accompanied by rustling sounds.

Born Battle Maniac spun around, but where the sound had come from, there was only the dark rock, void of any figure.

“Looks like enemies are here, skulking around.”

Singo drew his bow and fired an arrow at the rock. The arrow burst upon impact, creating a fiery explosion.

Startled by the flames, the creatures hidden behind the rock scattered, revealing their true forms.

They were bipedal beings about two meters tall, with hunched backs covered in mangy fur. Their heads resembled hyenas, their teeth jagged and yellow, and their blood-red triangular eyes glared hungrily.

These bloodshot eyes locked onto the group in the valley, and low growls rumbled from their throats as if they couldn’t wait to devour them.

These creatures delighted in devouring intelligent beings alive, reveling in their prey’s fear and screams before death. Humans were a favorite on their menu.

“Gnolls?” Singo identified the creatures immediately, having fought many in mines, but something felt off.

Gnolls typically preferred warm, damp environments, appearing in plains or underground caverns, and were rarely seen in cold mountain regions. These gnolls also differed in appearance—alongside reddish-brown and black fur, patches of white scales sparsely covered their bodies.

The trio instantly thought of the dragon-blooded goblins of the Ember Kingdom.

“Interesting. Could this be white dragon lineage?”

“No wonder they can withstand the cold.”

“We should try to capture a few alive.”

Singo’s interest was piqued, and his gaze at the gnolls grew eager—this rare variant would fetch a hefty price if offered to the Tower of the Great Sage.

The battle began in an instant.

“Awoo—”

The dragon-blooded gnolls raised their heads and howled, their mournful cries unnerving and eerie.

These creatures leaped down from the cliffs, claws bared, drooling putrid saliva as they charged at the group.

“Go, go, go! Battle Maniac, Mantou, hold the front!”

“Damn it, Singo! Why don’t you go up there and fight these disgusting things yourself?”

Despite his complaints, Mantou raised his silver longsword and charged.

Born Battle Maniac, eager for the fight, let out a roar and stomped the ground, activating his rage. With red eyes, he barreled toward the gnolls.

“Aaaah! Battle is thrilling!”

Born Battle Maniac’s massive axe cleaved a gnoll’s head clean off, sending the rest scattering.

Mantou seized the opportunity, launching a flurry of swift sword strikes, tearing open a gnoll’s chest. Its innards spilled out in a gory mess.

Singo, perched in the valley, pulled back his hunting bow, marking a gnoll with a purple Hunter’s Mark.

“Thwip—”

The arrow whistled through the air, piercing the gnoll’s heart. The sharp arrowhead emerged from the other side, the mark amplifying the damage, ensuring the gnoll was undeniably dead.

“Don’t kill too many too quickly!”

“Leave some alive for capture!” Singo called out, even as he loosed another arrow, felling another gnoll.

Against these seasoned players, already Level 4 and well beyond their numerical stats, the dragon-blooded gnolls, even with a hint of white dragon lineage, were no match. They became mere fodder for experience and loot.

However, numbers compensated for their lack of quality.

As Mantou and Born Battle Maniac fought at the frontlines, they noticed the gnolls weren’t diminishing. Instead, more and more poured in, their howls echoing from afar.

“Damn it, how many of these mutts are there?”

“They’re endless!”

Singo’s expression turned grim. From his vantage point in the valley, he saw hundreds of gnoll heads emerging from the cliffs, their glowing red eyes swarming like a sea of malice.

“Uh-oh—looks like we’ve stumbled into their nest.”

“What?”

More gnolls surged forward, a foul tide threatening to overwhelm them.

The largest gnoll among them inhaled deeply and unleashed a freezing breath—a white dragon’s frost breath!

“Awoo—”

Mantou was startled, rolling on the ground multiple times to narrowly avoid the attack. The spot where he had been standing was now covered in a thick layer of frost.

Due to their earlier overconfidence, Mantou and Born Battle Maniac had attacked from opposite flanks, leaving a considerable distance between them. Singo, stationed far behind in the valley, was too far to provide support.

Mantou glanced at the fork in the valley paths and had a sudden idea, shouting, “Let’s split up and run!”

“Got it!”

Mantou and Born Battle Maniac darted left and right, respectively, while Singo retreated down the central path. Each ran in a different direction.

“Awoo—”

The greedy but not particularly intelligent gnolls hesitated, momentarily unsure whom to chase. They howled at each other in confusion before, under the urging of their leader, splitting into three groups to pursue each player.

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