Loria leaned on the window frame and looked at the land that many called home—the same dull orange, the road that had not been maintained for more than ten years was not as early as it had been in the heyday of the kingdom, the carriage would jolt every now and then, and she always had to care that the ale in her hand was not spilled.

As the owner of several Nord wineries, she learned to drink as a matter of course, but she didn't like it, and the ale from Ironforge also had a lot of discomfort for her, she still preferred the honey of Skyrim, maybe the materials produced in the primitive and wild Skyrim were more suitable for winemaking, or maybe she simply favored her own products, and after a few sips, she had no interest in continuing.

In the previous meeting, she agreed to Elise's offer to hire her as a bodyguard, she didn't know the mercenary market, so she didn't ask for any commission, anyway, the private army was headed for the Scourge Fortress Naxxramas, and Loria was happy to enjoy the free food and lodging provided by the big-breasted monster. As for where this team, which was large in number but strangely carried a large number of non-combatants and messy furniture and other supplies, was beyond her control.

The advance force of the alliance passed through here not long ago, because there were not many undead in the eastern plague land where natural disasters were entrenched, and occasionally a few zombies came around from the withered forest to the main road, and they would be immediately beaten by a large group of mercenaries, and they would be dismantled into a pile of pieces in an instant.

A certain kind of blind optimism crept through the convoy, and even Elise occasionally stepped out of the carriage surrounded by mercenaries on the way to rest, symbolically inspecting the land defiled by the undead, and she looked proud, as if it were her territory.

Loria couldn't help but yawn, the monotonous scenery made her sleepy, and in the crowd, it was not convenient for her to sleep through the whole day, and she had always been lacking energy lately.

She stepped away from the window frame, lowered the curtains, shrunk into a corner of the carriage, her hands clasped around her knees, small, not taking up any space, consciousness gradually drifting away from her as the carriage jolted, the occasional sound and shaking made her open her eyes and try to wake up, but soon she would be captured by drowsiness again.

There was only fragmented silence in the fragmentary dreams, and it was only after the convoy stopped for a while that she finally broke free from the Sandman's grip and walked off the carriage with a sluggish and staggering expression.

She saw a tall tower not far away on a dirt slope, with a blue lion flag hanging from the top, and a barricade under the tower, which stopped the convoy.

By the time she came to her senses, the convoy had already negotiated with the Union soldiers stationed there, and the private forces could camp two hundred meters away from the watchtower, and it would normally be difficult for civilians to approach such a well-guarded military facility, but perhaps in the Eastern Plague Lands, the same humans would be enough to close the distance between them.

A little later, Loria was invited by Elise to join a dinner at the watchtower, which was exactly what she wanted, and she was going to inquire about the Confederate troops, so she cheered up.

It is one of the only four remaining watchtowers in the Eastern Plaguelands, built during the Lordaeron Kingdom, and when the Coalition advance team passed through here, a small team was left to garrison it, led by a captain, who is said to have a good chance of becoming a major after this war...... Miss Loria's long-prepared words were of no avail, and after a glass of wine, the captain began to babble on and on about everything from his military experience in his youth, to the recent movements of the Union army, and even her cousin's marriage.

Maybe he'd been in this horrible place for so long that he'd been a little lonely, or maybe maybe Stormwind's wealthy Prut Camelot had a reputation for trust, or maybe the information that Loria considered classified wasn't taken seriously.

In short, who would have thought that at the end of this table, the little girl who kept her head down and stuffed food into her mouth was the leader of the Scarlet Crusade.

In a sense, she's not even human, and all of you here are just food for her.

Of course, she had no intention of having a bloody feast here, and when the overdrunk captain began to imagine her own good career in the army, she quietly left the table, and Elise looked at her, but did not say anything, but continued to respond to the captain's drunken words with a smile on her face.

She knew it was rude, but her overly tough physique was also uncomfortable, and since she appeared as Peggy, let Peggy, who didn't exist, carry the pot.

As she walked out of the watchtower, she suddenly felt a strong feeling of vomiting, she should have thought that the food that had been brought all the way from Stormwind City must have gone bad, but when she hid in the withered bushes behind the watchtower, the vomiting was gone, replaced by an excessively strong hallucination and dizziness, and she felt the ground beneath her feet begin to tilt, and the slope was getting bigger and bigger, until she could not stand properly, and fell into the withered bushes as soon as her legs went limp.

The dry branches seemed to scratch her cheek, but she didn't feel anything, and she was too optimistic, forgetting that the Eastern Plague Lands was not a tourist destination, and that it was the most dangerous thing in the crowd.

…… The pungent smell brought her back to consciousness from her stupor, and a low grunt awakened her sense of hearing, something was coming, something familiar to her, and as the dim light caught her eye, she saw a ghoul running towards her.

The body did not obey the call, and she saw the ghoul getting closer and closer, but she did not mean to be afraid, so far, she did not master the trick of avoiding the trap, and in those years of death fight with the demon, she stepped on the static trap of the demonic assassin more than once.

Those years of silent watching over humanity were not for nothing, and she was given something more reliable than her limbs.

The galloping ghoul got closer and closer to her, but it came to an abrupt halt a dozen paces away, and the ice crystals crept silently and swiftly over its rotting body, and soon the ghoul was motionless.

It took nearly a quarter of an hour for Loria to get up from the ground with difficulty, shaking her hands as the pain gradually returned.

She slowly approached the ghoul she had frozen, groping around her body, but quickly stopped in distress, the isolated island had accustomed her to a peaceful life, and she didn't even have a few daggers with her.

As a last resort, she had to twist the ghoul's head off.

That's what it sounds like.

Welcome to the Eastern Plaguelands.