"Damn it, what the hell are those things?!" Blackmoore stood atop the city wall, watching the fiery red dragons swooping down.
"Watch out, Lieutenant! Flame! These dragons' flames will melt your armor!" Leylin shouted.
The dragons' flames engulfed the entire walls of Durnholde; the square shields couldn't stop such power. Moreover, the dragons didn't just breathe fire; they used their massive bodies and wings to sweep across the human soldiers standing on the walls!
"Retreat to the fortress, abandon the frontal resistance." Lieutenant Blackmoore knew very well that if they continued to hold the city walls, the human soldiers, including the elves, would die here.
Alleria's smooth golden hair was almost burned black by the fiery red dragons' flames. She dodged the flames, constantly throwing arrows from her quiver at the dragons.
The dragons' skin and bodies were incredibly tough; the magic on these arrows couldn't cause them any real damage.
To give the elven rangers and soldiers enough time to retreat, Alleria stopped the dragons from continuing their swooping attack.
Compared to the orcs' blind recklessness, these dragons possessed a shrewdness in their eyes that surpassed even that of humans. They were intelligent; two dragons used flames to trap Alleria atop the city walls.
The remaining red dragons burned the gates of Durnholde to ashes for the orcs. Leylin, busy resisting the orcs, noticed that the ranger captain was missing from the retreating elves.
He surveyed the flames atop the city walls, where he saw a swift figure flickered in and out of the blazing inferno.
"Tyr'ganal, retreat to the fortress immediately, follow Lieutenant Blackmoore's troops, I'm going to find the ranger captain!" Tyr'ganal grabbed Leylin's sleeve.
"Come back alive!"
Using [Blink], Leylin returned to the city walls, where two red dragons fought fiercely on either side. Their sharp claws were deeply embedded in the dark gray bricks. As soon as he got close, he immediately casted [Frost Nova] freezing the flames spewed by the red dragons.
Using this gap, Leylin further enhanced the frost energy freezing the surroundings even more. Alleria, her quiver already empty, stood proudly amidst the flames converging on her, a short dagger in hand.
Even though the intense heat of the flames had made her mind somewhat hazy, she smiled as she sensed the movement of magic. She knew a mage had finally returned. Although she didn't want him to come. The question was contradictory, but now she had no energy to consider whether it was right or wrong.
Powerful frost energy froze through the surrounding flames. Leylin handed the Book of Teleportation to Alleria, holding her tightly, and whispered in her ear, "Don't resist the arcane energy I want to infuse into your body; accept it gently!"
Feeling a slight nod, Leylin activated the Book of Teleportation.
They wanted to run, but the fiery red dragon wasn't going to give them the chance. The red dragon twisted its thick neck, pointing its head in the direction the mage had vanished, and continued to spew flames.
The flames engulfed them once more in the instant they landed. The fiery dragons didn't care whether their breath harmed the orcs; their target was these two creatures possessing considerable strength.
Quickly using another [Blink], Leylin didn't pause. His precise control of magical energy maximized the blink's effects. The one-second reset time allowed the caster and their accompanying objects to blink rapidly forward.
After three consecutive blinks, Leylin appeared within the Durnholde Keep complex. The fiery dragons' vision was obscured by the buildings, and they all stopped, allowing the orcs to begin their invasion of the fortress.
"It seems the Amani and Dragonmaw haven't disappointed me. Kress, I, as your Warchief, am pleased with this victory!" Orgrim's broad frame rested atop a gleaming frost wolf, his old friend's mount.
Even with the many stories, prejudices, and conflicts between them, Orgrim always remembered him fondly. If it weren't for power struggles, perhaps he wouldn't be in this position.
Kress nodded respectfully. He knew Orgrim was pleased; otherwise, he wouldn't have offered such words of encouragement. Indeed, the Warchief, after his northward advance, had lost some of his recklessness; he was now the true leader of the Horde.
Lothar in the east was still resisting their main forces, unaware that the Warchief led a smaller unit to free the captured Amani troll leader Zul'jin. Plus, the Horde does not want a direct confrontation with the Alliance forces now.
Rather than inflicting pointless losses here, the Warchief preferred to truly enter the human kingdoms to the north, to fight and plunder, and to establish a new home—that was what he most desired.
"Dunholde has been breached! Our soldiers have captured it, Warchief." Kress said, looking at the fortress engulfed in flames in the distance—a sign that the orcs had captured a fortress.
Orgrim patted the Frostwolf's head, then led the orcs forward: "Leave a portion of the troops for Saurfang to lead. We mustn't linger; head straight for the Hinterlands. There, we can obtain what we desire even more!"
A tidal wave of orcish troops swept through Durnholde Keep, leaving flames upon the city. Then, the orcish army from Southshore gradually advanced towards the Hinterlands.
The next day at noon, Sir Lothar's forces, pursuing the cunning and shrewd orc warchief Orgrim Doomhammer, arrived at Durnholde. The arriving orcish troops temporarily resisted the Alliance army, and the orcs officially began their northward advance.
Sir Lothar dismounted, removing his dust-covered silver armor. Facing the war-ravaged fortress and the town within, Lothar suddenly recalled the words of the mage Leylin that day.
He had fallen for the treacherous scheme of Orgrim, that cunning warchief. He had assumed the orcs, who had been concentrating their forces in Southshore, would recklessly engage them in a decisive battle as before.
But the Horde hadn't done that; they had used feints and his preconceived notions about the Horde had backfired, causing him to miscalculate. The mage's words were correct, but he was just a human mage from Quel'Thalas; no one would listen to him, including himself.
Gavinrad, following behind Lothar, stepped forward and said, "Commander, our setback is only temporary. Now we must change our tactics."
Sir Lothar ignored everyone's advice. He had a soldier take the reins of his horse and then entered Durnholde.
"Turalyon, go and search for any survivors." Sir Lothar leaned against the wall and sat down. He looked exhausted, rubbing his sweat-drenched face.
Khadgar followed Turalyon and a squad of soldiers into the town. Using his control over frost elementals, Khadgar extinguished the remaining flames and used his understanding of nature magic to dispel the smoke.
"Commander, cough cough." Turalyon, clutching Lieutenant Blackmoore, whose armor seemed to have burned away and whose body was bleeding profusely, suddenly stood up. "Thank goodness, Lieutenant, you're still alive."
Blackmoore shook his head. "I'm sorry to disappoint the Commander. We couldn't wait for your reinforcements; otherwise, the orcs would have had no chance to advance north." Lieutenant Blackmore said.