"Did you see that, the pale thing?" Jess pointed out.

Grit squinted for a while, asking, "Is it a pig raised by people from Elwynn that fell into the water and drowned, and its body got washed over here?"

"It's not livestock; it's a human." The priest, having woken up at some point, patted the carriage, shouting, "Stop for a moment, there's someone in the water!"

"A person?" The paladin in front peeked out, the carriage swaying before coming to a stop.

The sound of horseshoes, the clatter of boxes, and the creaking motion of the carriage dissipated, leaving only the sound of water and birds, and the noise of wind passing through the forest, eerily quiet.

Jess jumped down from the carriage and approached the shore, where the pale object amidst the waterweeds indeed turned out to be a person, and appearing quite bulky simply due to robust health rather than any abnormal swelling often seen with prolonged soaking, indicating the person hadn't been dead for too long.

The priest, shedding his robe, waded through the water to the body and forcefully flipped it over, revealing it to be a woman.

Her notably unique build, along with the barely-there presence of her blonde spikes, almost gave away her identity.

The group helped drag the woman's corpse ashore, finding her missing half a leg, the cross-section having turned pale, her body covered in various ghastly wounds, especially around the lower half.

Grit frowned, asking, "What happened here? This definitely isn't a suicide by jumping into the river."

"Gnoll," said a traveler. "There's hardly any other possibility, don't forget those Gnoll are humanoid too, they lack many of our virtues but none of our vices."

"Remember the group we met at the inn last night?" Jess asked Grit.

"Are you suggesting…" Grit approached for a closer look at the face, saying, "It does seem like the woman who carried the bow."

"Do you know this lady?" asked the priest.

"It must be her, we saw her yesterday," Jess said. "This woman and two men were a group of bounty hunters, planning to hunt down a Gnoll leader with a bounty on his head by Stormwind, but they left the inn last night and were not seen again."

"The new leader of the Riverpaw pack, I've heard of him too," said the paladin.

The elderly priest glanced towards a patch of waterweeds taller than a person, saying, "Gentlemen, we best leave this place. If she was alive last night, then the place where she was killed might not be far from here."

"What about the body?" asked the younger priest.

"Push it back into the river, further away," the paladin said. "Let the river carry her to Stranglethorn Vale, or even further. If we bury her here, diseased animals nearby might dig her up. If we're unlucky and she gets infected with the Plague of Undeath, dealing with such a strong zombie would be troublesome, causing unnecessary trouble for Duskwood."

"Can't we burn her?" asked Jess.

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"We don't have enough fuel at hand, and gathering it would take too long, possibly drawing the attention of Gnoll," the paladin said. "As much as I hate to say it, it would be like preparing a grilled feast for them, which the lady surely wouldn't want."

"Let's do it then." Grit rolled up his sleeves, and with the others, pushed the woman's body back into the river.

The priests recited prayers for the deceased's soul, as the other travelers, whether followers of the Light or not, kept silent, watching the body drift away.

Jess looked towards it, then turned back northwards, towards the unending expanse of Elwynn Forest.

He couldn't shake off the feeling that their story with Hogger wasn't over yet.

The body eventually disappeared from sight, and the group washed their hands and clothes, returning to the carriage.

The mood was much quieter for the rest of the journey, and no one asked about the possible fate of the other members of the bounty hunter group.

As they ventured deeper into southern Elwynn, it got darker; checking the priest's pocket watch, it was only 2 or 3 in the afternoon, but it was nearly as dark as night.

The dark energy from the explosion at Karazhan had lingered here for years and would continue indefinitely until the people here die out from despair or leave; the darkness will not end.

Objectively speaking, Medivh's loss of control over his power, destroying only such a small area, was already very optimistic.

After all, what possessed him was the soul of Sargeras, the true master of the Burning Legion, capable of cleaving a whole planet with a single strike, the Dark Titan.

Gradually, the forest on both sides of the road became incredibly sinister, thick fog obstructing visibility, and the torches set up along the road, meant to illuminate travelers' paths, looked like will-o'-the-wisps, bizarre in the mist.

From time to time, the forest echoed with howls, uncertain if they were man or wolf, and occasionally, a passing crow would break the silence, reminding that there were still living creatures here.

The rotation of the wooden hubs was the only continuous sound, and Jess felt as if they were being watched by countless unseen creatures in the forest as they progressed.

The carriage reached a crossroads, where the shadows of a few buildings and a small church loomed through the fog, with a few windows seemingly lit.

"Here's Duskwood, folks," said the priest looking back.

This was Duskwood?

If not mentioned, Jess would have thought it was just a larger stagecoach station, given the small scale of this so-called town compared to Sentinel Hill, and downright tiny compared to Goldshire.

Perhaps accustomed to seeing towns and cities in games much larger in scale, encountering a place not much better than the game's models, felt a bit unsettling.

After a brief rest and unloading, the priests on the church carriage moved on, aiming to reach the next station before night fell completely, though Jess wondered if there was any difference between day and night in Duskwood.

Duskwood was eerily quiet, the town square utterly devoid of people, only an old man sitting at the doorstep of the inn nearby, watching.

Jess and Grit rented a room in the town's only inn, dirt cheap as if given away, filthy and disorderly due to lack of cleaning staff.

After checking their luggage and tools, Jess collapsed into a wooden chair, looking out at the gloomy forest, saying, "We'll try to avoid any fights. If we're unlucky enough to encounter the undead, we dodge, we run. If it's wolves or other animals, we avoid eye contact, steer clear of conflicts."

"I was thinking the same," said Grit, drawing his sword and giving it a swing, adding, "This town doesn't seem to have the means to treat wounds; an accident could mean death here."

After speaking, he handed the sword hilt first to Jess, saying, "Hold this."

"You use this sword," Jess picked up an axe, "I'll use this."

"Why?" Grit asked.

"Swordsmanship requires skill," Jess said. "I have little battle experience, but I've chopped plenty of wood; I know a bit about how to exert force with this axe. You're a veteran, you'd be much better with a sword."

"This sword is crafted for humans, not quite suitable for dwarves," Grit raised the blade, inspecting the edge, "Fortunately, it's not too long, still usable."

Then, the dwarf set the sword down, his gaze fixed on the doorway.

"Who are you, and what do you want?"