The war between the Black Dragon Legion and the Fire Elemental Legion is far more intense than mortals imagine.
In this conflict between dragons and fire, as agents of both sides, the Blackstone Orcs and the Dark Iron Dwarves tried their best to please their respective overlords.
The fight is tacit and beautiful.
They are not good birds...
As a fighting nation where all the people are soldiers, Red Blackhand severely cheated his eldest brother Orgrim and made up for the gender gap in the clan. Just when he was thinking about the great cause of creating people, how could he fight with the Dark Iron Dwarves.
And Thaurissan did not let go of such a God-given opportunity, and used the battle with the orcs to eliminate dissidents and consolidate the king's power. Regardless of whether the person who died was a black iron dwarf or a blackstone orc, he had proved his loyalty to the Fire Lord.
In one word, stable.
There is one road in Blackstone Mountain and two gates. It’s a matter of who can close the gate harshly.
After suffering Uther's pain, Carlos wished he could transform into Bomberman.
After a lot of hard work, Carlos, who was used to Connor's style of infiltration, learned from Snake after a long time. He led a group of accomplices with various tricks, climbed rocks with bare hands, dug holes, and took detours. After outflanking and deception, he finally passed through the corridor of Blackstone Mountain that had never felt long in the past, contacted the ambush arranged by Uther and Lothar, and finally opened the closed gate of Blackstone Mountain through internal cooperation and external cooperation.
Fighting all the way, the imagined front and rear flanking attacks did not appear. The orcs and dwarves tacitly turned a blind eye to the human army and only monitored it from a distance.
It's unexpected, but it's reasonable.
Traveling under starry night and for more than forty hours without rest, we hurriedly and slowly arrived at the ruins of the burned fortress. All we could see was heavy silence.
The Alliance won and lost.
Carlos and Uther arrived a full day late.
The orcs were defeated and countless humans were beheaded. The seriously injured Grand Marshal Anduin Lothar had closed his eyes forever.
one day ago.
Turalyon picked up the broken Great Royal Sword on the battlefield, and carried the battle to the end with the still-moving Alliance.
The order of the tribal warchief was conveyed very slowly on the chaotic battlefield. The orcs fled without a word of "retreat". More orcs did not hear the warchief's order to retreat until they died in battle. Unfortunately, with the retreat of the Chinese army, the orcs' defeat in this battle was irreversible.
Scattered fighting continued until the latter half of the night, and it was not until the next day that the Alliance reluctantly gathered its personnel. They were all over the world rescuing the wounded, and they didn't even have time to deal with the bodies of their fallen comrades, let alone those of the orc tribe.
After a long coma, Lothar woke up around noon. Looking at the countless pairs of excited eyes around him, the Generalissimo gritted his teeth and held back the painful feeling in his heart until his severely dehydrated body was dripping with sweat again.
With the help of others, Lothar reluctantly sat up, and then a mouthful of black blood spurted out uncontrollably.
All the internal organs were damaged. If the paladins, including Turalyon, hadn't worked tirelessly to infuse Lothar with holy light to slow down his injuries, the Grand Marshal might have died in a coma.
Without the joy of victory, soldiers covered in filthy smoke and dust gathered around Lothar. Sobbing could be heard from time to time, and the unsuppressable pain turned the sky with the sun high into the color of dusk.
Leaving people always comes after dusk.
After asking about the situation on the battlefield and paying attention to the post-war arrangements, Lothar breathed a long sigh of relief when he learned that the mysterious army was really the alliance's reinforcements.
Turalyon held the broken Great Royal Sword in both hands and wanted to hand it back to Lothar, but the Grand Marshal smiled and shook his head and refused.
Lothar's consciousness did not last long, and the huge pain kept tormenting his will.
Lothar understood that there was not much time left for him.
"Tell Terenas to stand united. Tell Magni, the dwarves, to be patient. Tell Dalaran that the threat is never far away. Tell..."
Lothar's energy was gradually exhausted with these low voices.
"Tell, tell, tell Varian, don't cry, be, be, be, ahem... be a man, a man, a hero, a hero like you. Children, you, all of you. Everyone, everyone, is a hero, my pride, cough cough cough cough..."
After Lothar said this with difficulty, what came out of his mouth was no longer black dirty blood, but pink blood foam...
This meant that Lothar's lungs could no longer hold on.
Lothar thought he was shouting loudly, but apart from the movements of his lips, he made no sound. Upon seeing this, Turalyon immediately knelt down beside Lothar, listened, and then roared with all his strength: "For the Alliance! "
Amidst the crying war cries, Lothar smiled and closed his eyes.
After listening to the story, Uther burst into tears. The huge sense of self-blame broke the inner defense of the Lightbringer. He knelt down in pain, hammered his chest, and burst into tears.
Carlos also felt very uncomfortable, his chest was tight and he felt a little lost.
Anduin Lothar is dead, still dead.
I have thought about it and am able to accept it, but I am not willing to accept it.
He was a true elder, a role model, a legend in life, and a glorious death in death.
Does everything I do actually work?
"enough."
"enough."
"I said enough is enough for you!"
Carlos shouted loudly, causing everyone's eyes to focus on him.
"Is it time for you to cry?"
"Did the marshal go to the battlefield just to make you cry like two-hundred-pound fools?"
"Look here, look here, who is not a general leading troops in battle, who is not a veteran covered with scars!"
Carlos took deep breaths to calm down his agitated mood. There was no draft for this passionate speech, and Carlos didn't know what he wanted to say, but there were some words that he couldn't express.
"The tribe is not destroyed yet, why do you have the right to cry!"
This sentence was very inappropriate, but Carlos said it anyway.
But something leaked out of the corner of Carlos's own eyes.
This made everyone who was glaring angrily speechless.
Only the front of Carlos.
"Where were you when we were risking our lives on the battlefield without enough food and water to drink! What qualifications do you have to say such nonsense! Marshal Lothar is dead! Marshal Lothar is dead!"
Behind Carlos, the furious warrior rushed up, grabbed him by the shoulders, and turned a king over.
Then the warrior regretted it, and Carlos' twisted expression proved that he was not a cold-blooded bastard.
After the anger that quickly cooled down, the soldier was frightened by the overwhelming military orders and the disparity in status.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I'm sorry, I, I, I..."
"It doesn't matter, I understand, I know, I understand, I forgive you."
Carlos patted him on the shoulder to reveal the matter.
"Comrades, I'm late. It's my fault that I didn't fight side by side with you and failed to protect the marshal. But what is the marshal's legacy? Tell me loudly!"
"For the Alliance."
"Long live the Alliance!"
"Kill the tribe!"
Noble or despicable, Carlos could no longer tell.
But he knew that besides grief and anger, there was also power in his heart.
Carlos wants to become the league's new generalissimo.
For the alliance!
