When Alleria walked out of the Windrunner Tower, she was stopped by a woman wearing black chain mail.
Two people stood on the grass of Windrunner Manor. Their bodies and faces were so similar. Except that Alleria had long blond hair and the woman in front of her had chic short hair, they almost looked alike.
Carved from the same mold.
"Sylvanas, what do you want to say to me?"
Alleria calmly looked at her sister, the second sister of the three Windrunner sisters, the most arrogant and extreme girl in the Windrunner family. She was also an elite ranger who persistently regarded her mother as her goal and vowed to surpass her.
.
Facing the eldest sister's question, Sylvanas Windrunner pursed her lips and held the bow behind her back, but did not say a word.
This unabashed confrontation made Alleria, who had made her choice and regained her composure, a little impatient. She stretched out her hand to rub her forehead and said in a deep voice:
"I'm very busy, don't waste my time...sister."
"Mother chose you in the end!"
Sylvanas spoke. Compared to Alleria's calmness, her voice was a little more fierce and unwilling. She stared at the red, wide, ancient weapon that Alleria was carrying behind her back.
The powerful war bow is the inheritance mark of the Windrunner family and represents the power of the Windrunner clan leader. It is called the sacred object of Sasdora.
It is said that this war bow was made thousands of years ago by Quel'Thalas' most famous bow-making master from the branches of Sath'ara, the mother tree of the high elves. It has been passed down for thousands of years.
, held by every ranger general, the leader of the Windrunner clan, and countless souls have died under this war bow.
It has become the symbol and legend of the Windrunner family.
"She gave Thasdorla to you...so, you will also become the next Ranger General, right?"
Sylvanas took a deep breath. She looked at her sister, her eyes dancing with unwillingness, anger, disappointment and a hint of helplessness. Finally, she removed her fingers from the bow, turned around, and whispered
:
"That is the goal I have pursued throughout my life. Unfortunately, I failed in front of you in the end... I can only congratulate you, sister."
Sylvanas clenched her fists and walked out of the manor, but as soon as she took two steps, Alleria called out to her.
"younger sister..."
"What else do you want to say?"
Sylvanas looked back at her sister:
"Make a winner's declaration?"
"No"
Alleria shook her head:
"My mother did not choose me, Sylvanas, Tyrion chose me. He recommended me to Prince Kael'thas. He used his life to fulfill our childhood agreement...but I refused.
.”
"What did you say?"
There was a trace of shock in Sylvanas's eyes: "You rejected the right to inherit the Ranger General? That has been your dream since childhood!"
"But suddenly I don't want to be a knight-errant general. Commanding thousands of troops can't bring back those who have left."
Alleria took a deep breath, her fingers twitching, and the dagger Tyrion used when he died in the battle, which Lor'themar handed to her, fell into her hand. She reached out and held the dagger that always covered her left eye.
With blond hair, the red dagger in the other hand was raised.
"Shua"
The strand of blond hair was cut off, exposing Alleria's covered left eye to the air. On the equally beautiful left eye, there was a sky-blue war pattern that spanned half of her face, without damaging it.
The beauty of this face actually added a touch of wild charm to her, and around her neck, the blood-stained pendant was so conspicuous.
"Tyrion said this war mark is not good-looking, so I don't want to show it to too many people... But now, it doesn't matter."
Alleria opened her hand, and the blond hair in her hand was flying everywhere in the wind. She walked towards her sister who refused to admit defeat. When passing by her, a sincere smile appeared on the corner of Alleria's mouth:
"Go, Sylvanas, you will inherit your mother's position. Although I took Thasdora away, I believe that you will still become a qualified ranger general."
"What about you?"
After more than ten seconds, Sylvanas, who finally accepted the shocking news, turned around suddenly. She looked at the eldest sister behind her who had already mounted the war horse. She asked loudly:
"Alleria! What are you going to do!"
"I?"
Alleria reached out and pulled up her ranger hood, covering most of her face in shadow, which also made her voice hoarse and low.
"I'm going to continue my destiny..."
"The orcs took away my Tyrion. In the rest of my life, I will kill every orc I see! I will drive those beasts back to their world completely!"
"I have lost the most important thing, and I will not allow myself to lose anything else...Tyrion always said he wanted to be a troll slayer, so...let me become an...orc slayer.
"
"Hui Hui Hui"
Amidst the neighing of the Quel'dorei warhorse, Alleria, carrying the war bow Thasdorla, disappeared into the road of Yongsong Forest, as if she had completely entered a different destiny. Behind her
, Sylvanas Windrunner got the general position she longed for, but this proud lady couldn't be happy at all.
"I don't want your charity! Alleria!"
Sylvanas shouted towards the deserted forest: "I will eventually prove that I am better than you!"
"Alleria... protect yourself!"
When the shout echoed in the forest, there were tears in Sylvanas's eyes.
She and her younger sister Vereesa were like two abandoned girls, leaning alone on the railing of the manor. Vereesa, who had just grown up, looked at the direction where her eldest sister disappeared, and stroked her fingers on her right arm.
There, there are also black strips of cloth representing mourning.
"Second sister...Brother Tyrion...died. I was so sad. My brother even wrote me a letter. He was also very sad. You know, he has always admired Brother Tyrion."
"Well, he died...so we have to take his share...and continue to live, and eventually become people like him."
"But don't you hate brother Tyrion very much? Second sister."
"Oh...I don't hate it anymore."
————————————
On the other side, at the moment when the three sisters of the Windrunner family finally went to different fates, in the middle of the continent extremely far away from Quel'Thalas, on a land full of swamps, beasts and assassins from both sides, somewhere was captured
In the fortress, an important conversation is also taking place.
Grim Batol is a typical dwarf city. It is located underground and was founded by the Wildhammer dwarves who split during the War of the Three Hammers 300 years ago. However, in the later stages of the War of the Three Hammers, this fortress was
Unwilling to fail, the Dark Iron Dwarf Conjurer cast a curse, so the Wildhammer dwarves had to continue migrating north, and finally settled in the Eagle's Nest Mountain.
Now, this strong but dark fortress belongs to the orcs. It has become the most important stronghold of the orc tribe in the central part of the continent. There are at least 70,000 orcs entrenched in this city, plus they are still attacking Khaz Modan.
The number of orcs in the stubborn dwarf army exceeds 120,000. They are also the most elite force under the leadership of Warchief Orgrim Doomhammer.
"Click, click"
The underground dark fortress is always a little damp, so the orcs are used to putting a brazier in the stone house to keep warm. At this time, under the light of the beating flames of the brazier, in the warchief's room, Orgrim was talking with
The chiefs of several clans were discussing the issue of the Amani trolls.
"I think Saurfang should be punished!"
An old orc sitting at the bottom said in a deep voice:
"Due to his incompetent failure, Zuljin was killed. Although we brought back Zuljin's body, I don't think those unruly Amani trolls would join us just because of a corpse.
Our! Union plan has been ruined, Orgrim, are you turning a blind eye to this?"
Faced with this malicious question, Orgrim, the warchief sitting on the top chair, was unconvinced. This warchief was born in the Blackstone clan. His appearance is no different from that of ordinary orcs. The most obvious thing is that
His brown skin.
This means that the warchief has not drank the blood of demons, he has not been infected by the blood of evil, he is a pure-blooded orc!
Thanks to the excellent forging skills of the Blackstone clan, the warchief wore a set of black plate armor that he forged himself. In his hand, he held his family weapon, a warhammer that was said to be blessed by the elements.
Doomhammer! A weapon that frightens countless enemies on the battlefield!
"Zuluhid, it's been almost a year since I handed you the artifact we discovered!"
Orgrim spoke about another matter. The warchief's voice was low, echoing in the room, full of power:
"In the end, you only gave me a few disobedient young dragons... These young dragons are not helpful to the war at all! You still have the nerve to accuse Saurfang... At least Varok chopped the murderer to death.
Avenged for Zul'jin!"
"Huh, what the chief said is right!"
A clan chief holding a ferocious bone staff, who lost his right eye, had his face and body covered in oil paint, and tied his black hair into pigtails, said in a conspiratorial tone:
"When it comes to incompetence, apart from that good-for-nothing Gul'dan, it's you, Zuluhid! In the Bloodring Clan, a guy like you who can't accomplish anything will be thrown into the animal cage by us!"
"Bang"
The ridiculed leader of the Dragonmaw Clan, Dragon Tamer Zuluhid, smashed his fists on the table. He did not dare to complain to the increasingly prestigious warchief, so he aimed at the one-eyed orc:
"Kilrogg! It seems that you have forgotten your clan's disastrous defeat in the war with the Gurubashi trolls in Stranglethorn Vale. Do you want me to remind you that the Bronzebeard dwarves of Dun Morogh are still resisting so far?
How many times has your clan tasted defeat?”
"Bang"
A blood-red sword slashed hard on the table. This time, Red Blackhand, who was attending the meeting on behalf of the Thunder King Clan and the Black-Toothed Smiling Clan, could no longer hold back. His eyes were filled with anger and he stared at him.
By Zuluhid:
"You dare to slander Overseer Saurfang? You dare to slander a true hero! You coward! Come! Let's have a game of Mac'Gora, and I will chop off your head with my own hands!"
"Hey! Black Hand's little mad dog! Who are you barking at!"
Another old orc who had been sitting on the edge, with his upper body naked and his white hair tied into braids, suddenly stood up and drew out the sword that was similar to the black hand behind him. Old Dahl, the chief of the Burning Blade Clan. Triple Blood Blade said in a deep voice.
:
"Want to use this sword master's blade to show off your power? You're not qualified yet!"
"Enough!"
"Bang"
In the great chief's anger, the black-gray warhammer hit the table in front of him fiercely. The hard stone table cracked with a shocking crack. This sudden outburst made other chiefs quiet down.
Chief Orgrim snorted dissatisfied:
"This is a meeting place. If you want to fight, get out!"
Seeing the warchief getting angry, everyone became quiet. Orgrim's reputation in today's orc tribe has almost reached the point where his words are as good as his words. Compared with the repeated failures of the first generation warchief Blackhand Blackhand
, after taking over the command of the tribe, Orgrim took only one year to conquer half of the continent with his violent orcs.
Now, as long as the army of the last seven human alliances is defeated, the entire continent will become the new home of the orcs!
No one dared to provoke Orgrim at this time. The chiefs of their respective clans did not even dare to complain. They were afraid that if Orgrim gave an order, the warriors who originally belonged to their respective clans would abandon the chiefs.
Come under the command of the great chief.
"You've all finished arguing, now it's my turn!"
The warchief sat on the chair again. In the firelight dancing on both sides, his back looked so huge, like a mountain. On the orcs' usually rough cheeks, Orgrim's eyes sparkled.
A little more cunning.
"I don't think Saurfang failed. In fact, I think a dead Zul'jin is more useful than a living Zul'jin. What's more, Zul'jin died at the hands of the high elves.
That is the feud of the Amani trolls. With a little guidance, the thousands of trolls in the forest will become the best cannon fodder for the tribe... By the way, what did the Amani envoy say?"
Kilrogg, the chief of the Bloodring Clan, replied in a low voice:
"They are willing to join forces with us, but the premise is that we must help them attack Silvermoon City, and hand over the elf's body to them, cut it into pieces to worship Zul'jin, but Saurfang insists on staying there, no matter what
He was willing to let the troll get close to the corpse. He said that the elf was a warrior and died in a glorious battle, and should not be so humiliated by the troll."
"Stupid! Glory? What age is this? Saurfang's brain is broken! Giving the body to those trolls will allow them..."
Zuluhid began to taunt again, but this time, the chief of the Burning Blade Clan, the old swordsman Dar, who was arguing with Red just now, jumped up suddenly and drew out the flaming blade Sankesu from behind.
, pointed the sword blade directly at Zuluhid, and cursed:
"Shut up! You piece of garbage rotting in the mud! You have lost your glory, why don't you allow others to hold it?"
This roar made Zuluhid immediately shut up. The sword master of the Burning Blade Clan was recognized as the most capable madman in the tribe. He did not dare to argue with Old Dar head-on. The old swordmaster saw Zuluhid surrender.
, snorted disdainfully, looked at the chief, and said in a deep voice:
"Regarding this matter, I support Saurfang! We have avenged the trolls, they should not ask for so much anymore!"
"Well, that's what I think too..."
Orgrim nodded and stopped talking. His eyes were flashing with thought. At this time, no one dared to disturb him.
"What about the body?"
After a few minutes, Kilrogg asked cautiously:
"Gul'dan came to see me yesterday. He said that his research on war weapons is almost over and he needs the corpses of other races for research. The corpses of high elves are what he needs, but we only have the ranger in hand.
Already."
"Then give it to him!"
Orgrim closed his eyes:
"This is for the victory of the tribe. This is a glorious sacrifice. I believe Saurfang will understand."
