Azeroth’s Death Track

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Varian in military uniform buckled a black eagle helmet on his face, and beside him, Field Marshal Halford Wyrmbane was urging his king not to take risks.

Your Majesty, you really shouldn't take risks with those orcs. Listen to me, you have helped them a lot by staying in Felwood to direct the war. The orcs can't ask for too much!

What? Halford, in your eyes, I'm just like Liam and Garin. I'm so timid that I dare not even go to the battlefield? I'm really going back!

Varian wasn't too worried. He looked back at his Field Marshal, and said with a smile:

Don't be afraid, it's just a demon lord. Besides, we just signed an agreement with the orcs. They are old and young. They dare to go to the battlefield to fight demons in such a bad situation. Don't we humans dare? Don't let the orcs underestimate us.

I think Liam and His Majesty Garin made the right choice. The king should stay behind and listen to the news of our generals' victory.

An old voice came into the tent, Marshal Windsor in a wheelchair said:

Varian, don't be so stubborn. Your reform has just begun. Once you have an accident, the group of nobles will be happy. You should think more about your country and Anduin. .”

This advice kept Varian silent for a while, but a few seconds later, the gladiator king shrugged, picked up his strange sword from the table, and at the moment the Warbreaker touched Varian's finger, a touch of blue Lightning flashed on the blade.

Old man, I just don't want Anduin to think that his father is a coward who dares not even go to the battlefield...

Varian said stubbornly:

I don't even dare to face the devil, how should I face the more terrifying dark blade in the future? Don't persuade me, Windsor, I didn't go alone...

While speaking, Valeera, who was wearing a red leather armor, also appeared beside Varian. The beautiful high elf girl glanced at the old marshal, and she said softly:

Don't worry, Mr. Windsor, I will protect Varian.

That's what I want to say.

The old marshal sighed helplessly:

It's not enough to have a lunatic king, but also an assassin queen... The combination of the two of you will probably go down in history.

I'm not the queen...

Valeera smiled and disappeared into the air, but she didn't say the last half of the sentence. She was only Varian's wife, the second wife. In the hearts of this king and this country, there is always only one real queen.

Okay, fight this battle well! Halford, Windsor.

Varian walked out of the tent with his battle sword on his back. The moment he left, he turned to the two marshals and said:

Wait for the news of my victory to come back!

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While Ashenvale and the central battlefield of Felwood Forest were fighting together, on the distant coasts of Dark Coast and Ashenvale, the first and third fleets of Kul Tiras were busy taking the orcs, tauren and Kurts into battle. Well-armed marines from El Tiras were sent to the lands of Ashenvale and Darkshore.

This mixed formation will enter the battlefield from the northwest of Ashenvale, and open a second battlefield behind the main battlefield to clear the demon army currently raging in Ashenvale.

However, before this mixed formation encountered demons, it encountered other enemies.

Naga! Disgusting soft-skinned snake!

Rear Admiral Tenred, who was in charge of commanding the two fleets, clearly saw the densely packed Naga soldiers on the coast from the telescope equipped with eagle eye and night vision. It seemed that before the arrival of the fleet, the Naga soldiers had already After a successful landing operation, in Tenred's field of vision, he could still see a burning night elf town in the distance.

Apparently, the naga have captured the night elves' coastal towns.

General! There are no Naga under the sea, either those Naga who came ashore are the entire army of the soft-skinned snakes this time, or their landing point is farther away.

During the period, Colonel Taylor, the first mate, asked Tenred for instructions:

Our lookout sailors saw those Naga engulfing many night elf refugees heading towards Ashenvale. General, do you want to save them?

That's the elf...

Tandred rubbed his chin, he looked at Taylor:

It's not our compatriots, we don't have the obligation to save them, but...then again, it's the compatriots of the Shandris chick, she is our ally now, and may become our night elves in the future The mouthpiece of society, so... maybe we should save the elves, what do you say, Tyler?

Colonel Taylor once followed Tenred's father, General Dai Lin, and he and Tenred were also the same age. At this time, in the situation of only two of them, Taylor showed the expression unique to young people, he was sneaky looked left and right, and said to Tenred:

I said, General, have you taken a fancy to General Yuyue? Do you want to pursue her? That is a beautiful iceberg... I heard that you like this look.

Uh... a little heartbeat.

Tenred shrugged:

But I won't pursue her, the Shandris chick is old enough to be my great-great-great-great-grandmother, hell, you haven't seen Kael'thas's subdued look in front of the Shandris chick, At any rate, a Sun King has to bow down to salute that chick... Tsk tsk, I can't stand it.

After finishing speaking, the two guys let out a wretched laugh at the same time, but after the laugh, Tenred's expression became serious:

Okay, the time for dirty jokes is here, Taylor, give orders to the fleet...

The young Kul Tiras general stood up, looking at the distant coast:

Order all marines to get ready for landing, the battle time is 45 minutes, let's send this group of disgusting soft-skinned snakes to their graves! As for those elf chicks, let them stay here and wait for the Kaldorei army Fang's acceptance!

Now...the battle begins!

Five minutes later, all the muzzles of the 74 warships in the two fleets of Kul Tiras were aimed at the Black Coast in front. After Tenred gave an order, nearly a thousand shells whistling out enveloped the area. The Naga army crawled on the beach in the dark, and for a moment, this corner of the Black Coast was ablaze.

And the young general didn't know...the Naga were not without backup, but their backup was surrounded by another fleet under the deep sea.

In the abyss of the lightless sea, countless remnants of Naga were suspended between the icy sea water in a withered posture. The powerful and huge sea beasts were torn into pieces by the shells mixed with death energy. Scattered on the dark seabed, almost everywhere, the green blood of the Naga almost completely polluted the deep sea, and in the green flesh and blood hell, a silent fleet is slowly advancing under the sea, as if to Thoroughly enter the abyss under the sea.

And the leader is the King of the Sea that has grown into a legendary sea monster...

Dai Lin, who was wearing a black captain's uniform, sat calmly on his command chair, his expression was indifferent, as if he was not the one who slaughtered an entire Naga Legion under the deep sea just now.

Azshara is still not giving up...

His icy voice resounded in the hearts of every battleship and every sailor of the Dead Sea Fleet that was silently advancing in hiding:

That vile bitch dared to use my daughter to threaten me...

She's scared...

She's afraid of me, she's afraid of the Dark Blade...

Very well...then let her continue to be afraid.

Dead Sea Fleet, listen to my orders... Target Vashj'ir, move forward!

—————————————————

this...

The High Priest of the Moon who returned to Mount Hyjal at the fastest speed stood in the hall of the Moon God Temple, her fists clenched tightly. Before her eyes, the ground that was once filled with the glory of the Moon God was covered with dead body...

Those sincere moon god priests lost their lives in this sacred place in a tragic manner, and their blood made this hall a strange dead zone.

Tyrande squatted down and closed the wide eyes of the young Luna priest under her feet. Her fingers were stained with the already cold blood, and the bright red made her eyes dim. She looked at this Priest, she has a fatal wound on her back, which is a sneak attack... Obviously, the sneak attacker is very proficient in this kind of assassination technique, and she almost silently killed these priests who were supposed to heal her.

Miyara...

Tyrande murmured that name, the hero who followed her to overthrow the rule of Azshara, why did she suddenly become so tyrannical... Is it really because she witnessed the union of Naga and Orcs? ? No!

No!

Tyrande raised his head and looked at the statue of Luna at the end of the hall. Why, why did the great and benevolent Luna not protect them when these compatriots were killed?

Could it be... have the night elves lost the favor of the moon god?

But why?

High Priest, we have found Miara Risong.

An armored sentry whispered behind Tyrande:

In the lair where Orgrim was held, she died...

Where's Orgrim?

Tyrande's fingers were a little cold. She had already realized the hidden power behind the disaster. She desperately needed good news. She looked back at the sentinel. The latter swallowed and said with some difficulty:

Orgrim is missing...

try to find!

A cold command came out of Tyrande's mouth:

Even if we turn over the entire Mount Hyjal, we must find him... Gather all the troops and follow me to the front line! Maiev, Maiev?

The high priest looked back for the watchman lady who was following him, but did not see her. She looked at the guards beside her:

Where's Lady Maiev?

The guard immediately replied:

Ms. Maiev went to the north. She said there were traces of demonic activity there. Illidan... Illidan went there too.

———————————————————

Aha! I knew, the night elves are not so easily defeated!

In the southern part of the Darkwhisper Valley from Winterspring to Mount Hyjal, the Demon Lord Bainholder looked at the distant sky, and he said to the eredar warlock beside him:

Look at them, these cunning elves pulled up a huge reinforcement army without making a sound, humans, orcs, tauren, wild boars, trolls, almost all races on this continent began to unite to help Dark Night I'm an elf, and I don't know how charming Ms. Tyrande is... Hehe, maybe she made some weird promises.

This cunning dreadlord stood on a snow-covered hill. It looked at the demon army marching towards Mount Hyjal not far away, and a feeling of gratitude rose in its heart.

Frankly speaking, an old member like Bainholer who has served the legion for countless years is not afraid of the combined strength of the natives of Azeroth. It has seen such a combination in countless worlds, but it is useless. Facing the endless power of the legion, they will be easily crushed in the end, and that is their only ending.

But Azeroth, is different.

Bainholler couldn't help but think of the scene where Tyrion and the Blood Mistress appeared on the battlefield in the forest that day. At that moment, the cunning Dreadlord really thought he was doomed, and he never really faced it. The demon of Lord Darkblade couldn't feel that weird feeling, looking directly at him was like looking directly at the cold death.

He didn't even need to lift a finger to take away Bainholler's life, and the most terrifying thing was that if he died in his hands, the soul would never even return to the twisted void.

Demons aren't afraid of simple death, but this kind of annihilation...is enough to make any demon feel his scalp tingle.

It seems that I have to find a way to leave this damn place. Tyrion's power has dissipated here, and this place is no longer safe.

While commanding the army of demons into Mount Hyjal, Bain Heller was thinking about his career. I heard that Kassanatyr's work in the Broken Isles is going very well, maybe it's time to seek refuge with an old friend .

However, at the moment Bainholder made up his mind, a weird male night elf suddenly appeared on the snow not far from it. The moment the man appeared, the Dread Demon King noticed him.

On this cold day, the temperature in this damned Winterspring Valley is at least minus 20 degrees. This is a cold that even demons hate, but the man is naked from the waist up, his hands are wrapped in gray cloth, and he is wearing a pair of fur coats. With embellished military trousers and a pair of black moccasin boots, he looks like an ordinary night elf.

But the most striking thing is the arrogant green magic pattern painted on the man's chest, and the dark red cloth strips covering his eyes.

When Bernholer saw him, the man also saw Bernholler.

A carefree smile hung on the corner of the man's mouth, as if he smelled food:

Ah...a lonely dreadlord, a high-ranking demon lord, how nice...

Ten thousand years, I'm really...really hungry...

This unknown Mr. Dreadlord, has anyone ever told you that you smell...delicious...