Azeroth’s Death Track

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Varian, in a uniform, buckled a black eagle helmet on his face, and beside him, Field Marshal Halver Wimbahn was persuading his king not to take risks.

"Your Majesty, you really shouldn't take the group of orcs to take risks. Listen to me. You stay in Felwood to command the war. This has helped them a lot. The orcs can't ask too much!"

"Why? Halver, in your eyes, I'm just like Liam and Galin. I dare not even dare to go to the battlefield? It's really more and more back!"

Varian was not very worried. He looked back at his Field Marshal. He smiled and said:

"Don't be afraid, there is only a demon lord, and besides, we just signed an agreement with the orcs. They are old and small, and they dare to go to the battlefield to fight the devil in such a bad situation. Don't we humans dare? Don’t let the orcs look down on us."

"I think that the choices made by Liam and His Majesty Galin are correct. The king should stay behind and listen to the news of the victory of our generals."

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

"Varian, don’t be so stubborn. Your reform is just beginning. Once you have an accident, the nobles will die happily. You should think more about your country and more about Anduin. ."

This advice silenced Varian a little, but a few seconds later, the gladiator king shrugged and picked up his alien-shaped war sword from the table. The moment the warrior touched Varian’s finger, a touch of blue Lightning flashed on the blade.

"Old man, I just don't want Andu to think that his father is a coward who dare not go to the battlefield..."

Varian said stubbornly:

"Don't even dare to face it, how should I face the more terrible dark blade in the future? Don't persuade me, Windsor, I'm not alone..."

Between the words, Valilla wearing a red leather armor also appeared beside Varian. The high elf beautiful girl glanced at the old marshal, and she said softly:

"Relax, Mr. Windsor, I will protect Varian."

"This is what I want to say."

The old marshal sighed helplessly:

"It's not enough to have a lunatic king, and you need to add an assassin queen...you two will probably be famous for their history."

"I'm not a queen..."

Valila smiled and hid in the air. She didn't say the last half of the sentence. She was just Varian's wife, the second wife. In this king and the country, there is always only one real queen.

"Okay, fight this battle well! Halver, Windsor."

Varian walked out of the tent with his war sword, and at the moment he left, he turned back to the two marshals:

"Wait for the news of my victory!"

———————————————————————

At the same time as Ashvalley and Felwood Forest's central battlefield were huddled together, on the remote Black Coast and Ashvalley Coast, the first and third fleets of Kul Tiras were busy orc, tauren and Ku Altiras’ well-equipped marines were sent to the grounds of Ashenvale and the Black Coast.

This mixed formation will enter the battlefield from the northwest of Ashenvale and open the second battlefield behind the main battlefield to eliminate the demon legions currently raging in Ashenvale.

But before this mixed formation had met the demon, it encountered other enemies.

"Naga! Nasty soft snake!"

The Rear Admiral Tenred, who was in charge of the two fleets, clearly saw the dense Naga soldiers on the coast from the telescope holding eagle eyes and night vision. It seems that before the fleet arrived, the Naga had already carried out After a successful landing operation, in Tenred's vision, you can also see a burning night elf town in the distance.

It seems that the Naga have captured the coastal town of night elves.

"General! There are no Naga under the sea. Either those who came ashore are all the armies of the soft snakes this time, or their landing point is farther away."

During the period, the first officer, Colonel Taylor, asked Tan Reid:

"Our lookout sailors saw the night elf refugees who were wrapped in Naga, marching towards Ashenvale, General, do you want to save them?"

"That's an elf..."

Tenred Moore held his chin, and he looked at Taylor:

"That's not our compatriots, we don't have that obligation to rescue them, but...then again, that is the compatriot of Shantis chick, she is now our ally, and may become our night elves in the future. A spokesperson in society, so... maybe we should save those elves, what do you say? Taylor?"

Colonel Taylor once followed General Tread's father General Lynn, who is also of the same age as Tread. At this time, when there were only two people, Taylor showed the expression unique to young people. He was sneaking. Looked around and said to Tanred:

"I said, General, did you look at that General Yuyue? Do you want to pursue her? That's an iceberg beauty... I heard you like this."

"Uh... there's a little heart."

Tenred shrugged:

"But I won't go after her. The age of Shantis chicks can already be when I was my great-great-great-great-grandmother, hell, you didn't see Kael'tha's stoop in front of Shantis chicks, Anyway, a sun king, but also bowed to the chick to salute... Gee, I can't stand it."

After talking, the two guys simultaneously made a frivolous laughter, but after the laugh, Tanred's expression became serious:

"Okay, here's the time for meat, Taylor, give orders to the fleet..."

The young General Kul Tiras stood up, and he looked at the distant coast:

"Order all marines to prepare for landing. The battle time is 45 minutes. Let us send this group of disgusting soft snakes to their graves! As for the elf chicks, let them stay here and wait for the Cadore Army. Fang's reception!"

"Now... the battle begins!"

Five minutes later, all the muzzles of the 74 warships of the two fleets of Kul Tiras were aimed at the Black Coast in front. After the order of Tenred, nearly a thousand shells shouted out. Under the night, the Naga army crawling on the beach, for a time, this corner of the Black Sea was blazing.

And the young generals are not clear...Naga are not without support, but their support, under the deep sea, was surrounded by another fleet.

In the abyss of the sea of ​​light, countless Naga remnants were suspended between the cold water in a withered posture. The powerful and huge sea beasts were torn into pieces by shells mixed with death energy, and their blood bones Scattered on the dim seabed, almost everywhere, the green blood of the Naga almost contaminated the deep sea, and in that green flesh hell, a silent fleet was slowly advancing under the sea, just like Completely into the abyss under the sea.

And headed by, it is a maritime kingship that has grown into a legendary sea monster...

Dai Lin, dressed in a black captain's suit, sat quietly on his command chair. His expression was indifferent. It seemed that he was just under the deep sea, and it was not him who slaughtered a complete Naga legion.

"Azara is still not giving up..."

His icy voice sounded in the hearts of every necrotic sailor in every battleship of this quietly advancing Dead Sea Fleet:

"That **** bitch. Dare to threaten me with my daughter..."

"She's scared..."

"She's afraid of me, she's afraid of dark blade..."

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

"Dead Sea Fleet, listen to my orders...Go to Vasil, move on!"

———————————————————

"This..."

The high priest who returned to Mount Hyjal at the fastest speed stood in the hall of the Moon Temple. She clenched her fists tightly. In front of her, the ground that was once full of the glory of the Moon God was already covered. The dead body...

Those sincere lunar priests lost their lives in this sacred place in a sad posture, and their blood made this hall like a weird 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. The bright red made her eyes darken. She looked at this Pastor, there is a fatal wound behind her, which is a sneak attack...Obviously, the sneak attacker is very proficient in this assassination technique. She almost silently killed these priests who should have cured her.

"Miyara..."

Tyrande muttered to that name, the hero who had followed her to overthrow Azshara’s rule, why did she suddenly become so tyrannical... really because she witnessed the union of Naga and the orcs ? Do not!

"Do not!"

Tyrande raised his head and looked at the sculpture of the moon **** at the end of the hall. Why, why did these great and kind moon gods fail to protect them when these compatriots were killed?

Is it... Did the night elves have lost the favor of Luna?

But why?

"High priest, we found Miyala Rige."

An armored sentry whispered behind Tyrande:

"Just in the den that held Orgrim, she died..."

"What about Orgrim?"

Tyrande’s fingers were a bit cold. She had realized the power behind the disaster. She desperately needed good news. She looked back at the sentry, who swallowed, and said with some difficulty:

"Orgrim is missing..."

"Find!"

A cold command came out of Tyrande's mouth:

"Even if you open the entire Mount Hyjal, you have to find him... summon all the troops and follow me to the front! Maiev, Maiev?"

The high priest turned to look for the lady watcher who was beside her, but did not see her. She looked at the guards beside her:

"Where is Ms. Maiev?"

The guard immediately answered:

"Ms. Maiev went north, she said there were traces of demonic activity, Illidan... Illidan also went there."

—————————————————————

"Aha! I knew that night elves were not so easily defeated!"

In the south of the Whispering Gorge leading from Winter Spring Valley to Mount Hyjal, the demon king Bernholler looked at the sky in the distance, and he said to the Eredar Warlock beside him

"Look at them, these cunning elves pulled up a huge reinforcement without a word, humans, orcs, taurens, wild boars, trolls, and almost all races on this continent began to unite to help the dark night. Elf, I don’t know how attractive Ms. Tyrande is...haha, maybe she made some weird promises."

The cunning dreadlord stood on a hill covered by snow, and he looked at the demon legion not far away to Mount Hyjal, and a feeling of happiness rose in his heart.

Frankly speaking, the old members such as Bernholler who have served the Legion for countless years are not afraid of the unity of the Azeroth's indigenous peoples. It has seen such a union in countless worlds, but it is useless. Faced with the endless power of the legion, they will eventually be easily crushed, and that is their only ending.

But Azeroth is different.

Bernholler couldn't help but think of the scene where Tirion and the Blood Mother appeared on the battlefield in the woods that day. At that moment, the cunning fear demon really thought that he was dead, and he didn't really face it. Lord Devil of the Darkblade can't feel the weird feeling. Looking at him directly is like looking at the cold death.

He didn't even need to lift his finger to take away Bernholler's life, and the most terrifying thing is that in his hand, the soul would not even have the possibility of returning to the twisted emptiness.

The demons are not afraid of simple death, but this kind of spirits are destroyed... this is enough to make any demon feel scalp numbness.

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

Bernholler, while commanding the army of demons into Mount Hyjal, was thinking about his "career" himself. I heard that Casanathil’s work in the Broken Isles went very well. Maybe it’s time to turn to old friends .

However, at the moment Bernholler made up his mind, a quirky male night elf suddenly appeared on the snow not far from it. At the moment the man appeared, the dreadlord noticed him.

In this cold day, the temperature in this **** winter spring valley is at least minus 20 degrees Celsius. This is the cold that the devil hates, but the man is naked and his hands are wrapped in gray cloth, and he is wearing a coat with fur Embellished military pants, a pair of black deerskin boots, looks like an ordinary night elf.

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

When Bernholler saw him, the man also saw Bernholler.

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

"Ah... The dread demon king, the high-level demon lord, it's great..."

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

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

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