Walking through the back door is an art.

in every sense of the word.

In the hometown of the dream, the blue planet, there was an empire called Rome in the era where our ancestors lived.

There were many, many reasons for the collapse of that empire, but one of the most talked about was that there were too many back doors, which affected the birth rate of the population, led to the decline of the status of the main ethnic group of the Romans, and finally the back door was taken by the new barbarian people.

Laughing in brackets, during the boring and difficult march, Carlos could only relieve his loneliness with cranky thoughts.

In real life, interpersonal relationships are an important part of strength, so why should you be blamed for going through the back door with your ability. You can't criticize the injustice of society, because you don't lose at the starting line, but some people are born at the finish line. Carlos couldn't help but think that if he had been born into a merchant family, he might have referred to Lü Buwei's family history and desperately made money to invest in Varian; If you are in a farmer's family, you may innovate farming tools, enclose land, make a living, and then continue to climb up.

No matter what you are born in, your heart that is not willing to be lonely will eventually drive you to climb to the pinnacle of power.

It's a terrible thing to be born to know.

Just as others don't understand why Carlos would rather delay political affairs, he has to exercise for four hours a day, even if he is on vacation, he will not give up the training of martial arts.

The ignorant are fearless, precisely because they know the secrets that others do not know, and the fear of the future drives Carlos to keep moving forward.

Even Carlos can proudly say that there is no one who fights harder than himself in the traverser, and if you remove the external gold finger, you are not the most combative but also one of the most capable of fighting.

Why do you fight so hard?

Of course, it is to change his life against the sky.

The tragic fate of the Barov family has been reversed by itself.

But what about the fate of Azeroth?

The Burning Legion and the Elder Gods, the source of all the planet's suffering.

Fate is as real as the ocean, but the individual life is floating in this vast expanse and cannot be examined by itself.

Carlos didn't dare to claim to be more far-sighted than the bronze dragon, but he was willing to fight for everyone's happiness.

Carlos is willing to fight and work hard to continue the good life.

Because he is afraid of death, he is not afraid of death.

Contradiction and harmony.

In the eyes of others, it was a military operation with a high probability of success and was worth the risk.

Carlos couldn't explain to anyone else that it was a big gamble with no turning back.

The invasion of orcs is a catastrophe for humanity and a catastrophe for all intelligent life in the Eastern Kingdom. But for the world of Azeroth, it is a life-sustaining medicine.

The fraudster Kilgardan manipulated all of this behind his back, and Sargeras temporarily diverted his attention from Azeroth because of Kil'Gardan's involvement.

The defeat of the orcs contributed to the death of Neozu, who led to the birth of the Lich King, and because of the existence of the Lich King, the Scourge legion ravaged the land. The existence of the Scourge Legion has curbed the resurgence of the Elder Gods, who have attempted to side with the creatures of Azeroth in order to resist the Burning Legion's stated destiny to destroy Azeroth. The Scourge Legion's backlash not only delayed the invasion of the Burning Legion, but also suppressed the revival of the Elder Gods.

That's the real reason why there must be a Lich King.

The wisdom of the guardian dragon is magnificent, and it is full of breath, one ring after another.

Carlos thought about it day and night, and realized that he could not do better than protect the dragon.

Maybe this really is the best future for Azeroth.

The premise is that there is no interference from external forces.

With no more variables present, Nozdom used the powers bestowed upon it by Amansur, the father of the gods, to pick the least bad ending for Azeroth.

Carlos simply couldn't untie the knot.

So he had to seek Azeroth's unexpected power to break the spell.

Naru!

With endless starry skies, the Pantheon's war with the Burning Legion in full swing, and not many native civilizations could survive the Burning Expedition, let alone help Azeroth.

Legion of Light!

Only the Legion of Light, presided over by Naru, has such strength and leeway.

Deathwing, no, the current Guardian of the Earth hasn't given up his name yet.

Nesario's mental state is basically equivalent to the progress meter of the Elder Gods corrupting Azeroth.

The Guardians of the Earth have never abandoned their duties, and for now, Yogsaron has not succeeded in corrupting Ulduar, Cthun is still in a weakened state of resurrection, and Enzos is still dormant under the maelstrom.

This is the best chance.

It's a big gamble against time.

Carlos is unwilling to follow Northdom's script, unwilling to watch countless tragedies unfold in front of his eyes.

So this battle is not the end, but the beginning.

Although Draenor is also one of the worlds transformed by Titans, Planet Draenor is too primitive compared to Azeroth.

The Dark Gate connects two worlds across billions of light-years, and Azeroth can withstand such a huge burden, but Draenor cannot.

As long as the Dark Gate is not closed for a moment, it will continue to drain the vitality between Azeroth and Draenor.

Historically, it was Naozu's unbridled research on space technology that eventually led to the raging Void Storm tearing apart the planet Draenor.

However, Naozu did not expect that his escape would be like a child in front of the fraudster Kilgardan.

In the end, the spiritual leader of the orcs, while destroying his own homeland, also sent himself and all the clan members who followed him to Kil'Gardan.

The orc warlocks of the Shadowmoon Clan were transformed into eternal toys for Kil'Gardan, the experimental weapons of the Burning Legion ———— lich, and Neozu was made the Lich King.

Brains are used carefully, from the standpoint of the Burning Legion, from Kil'Gardan's point of view, plus Akmund as an unexpected variable.

The love-hate relationship between the Argus Triumvirate determined that thousands of years of exile of the Draenei could not erase the hatred of Kilgardan.

While the orcs still have usable value, there is a high probability that Kil'Gardan will not actually come to Draenor.

Naru is a secondary factor, even if he is as strong as Adar, Carlos does not think this one can win against Kiljadan.

The real factor is the sweetness of revenge.

Kil'Gardan longs for a magnificent revenge, and he wants to prove that Viren was wrong for betraying the Eredas, and he will not come forward to blame Viren for his defeat until he has lost everything and nothing left.

Yes, sometimes a great act of revenge is made so that the enemy kneels down in front of you and you say a few cool words to him.

These few words are worth even more than revenge itself.

If this basic logical inference holds.

Then Carlos thinks he has a lot to offer.

Whether it is dwarf technology or goblin technology, it is not comparable to Legion technology, and it is Titan technology that goes hand in hand with Legion technology.

Gnome / Goblin Technology, shocking.

Legion technology, breathtaking.

Titan Technology, the ancestor of eight generations!

At the moment, Ulduar, the Titan Guardian is not crazy, not even the guardian dragon can't easily set foot in, if you want black technology, Draenor has become the first choice.

The arduous march was a long, muddy journey for ordinary soldiers, but Carlos used this time to gather his thoughts and strengthen his faith.

The long trek had an end, and as they left the mountains and entered the other side of the dark swamp, the rudimentary canopies and braziers provided a shelter for the Alliance soldiers to sleep on.

Overestimating the impact of the heavy rain and the difficulty of the road journey, the main force of this surprise attack force arrived at the assembly point a day and a half ahead of schedule.

There are still more than 4,000 people left behind, and they cannot be left alone, and the tired soldiers also need a short rest to eat hot food and catch their breath.

The raindrops weren't big, but they were so dense that they cut off the orcs from probing, and the swamp muddy water covered the original road, leaving only the beacon that had been placed earlier.

The Dark Gate is on higher ground, so the situation should be better.

Carlos, after a day of waiting, decided not to do anything.

The last hot soup and hot rice, the last restful sleep.

At the appointed time, the engineers ignited the flamethrower, filled with enough fuel to burn for at least seventy-two hours, and the poncho-clad Union soldiers checked their weapons one last time before strapping their bags and embarking on the difficult assault.

A strange sense of dislocation.

It's very unaffiliated, but very orc.

Humid and muddy conditions, as well as fatigue from the loss of body temperature.

For the last thirty kilometers, in the mist-filled dark swamp, only the light and heat diffused by the flames connected in a line, guiding the way forward.

In the mist and rain, an almost pilgrimage-like pious raid was carried out quietly by the alliance soldiers who had been assimilated by the atmosphere, without encouraging each other or shouting trumpets, more in anger with themselves, a kind of pleasure of rebellion against fate.

If you can't hold on, go back.

The road will eventually be exhausted, and the majestic black shadow of the Dark Gate is already looming.

There is no shouting from officers, no abuse from veterans.

In this kind of ghost weather, even the orcs cowered in the bunker, yawning boredly through the observation port with limited vision.

The kind of fear that the orcs had long inflicted on humans had a twisted mindset among the Alliance soldiers involved in the raid.

If you orcs can do it, so can we.

More and more soldiers chose to crawl forward, and mud and water and gravel could not stop the surprise attack with revenge.

It was raining continuously, perhaps the armor was not fixed well, and the water-soaked clothes were uncomfortable on the body.

But ahead lies the Dark Gate, the root of the orcs, the root of all evil.

Carlos smeared his armor with silt and leaned against a dark gray rock.

The number of orcs was much smaller than expected, but no one could guarantee that the tribe would have a successor.

The formation of the alliance is very scattered, and 20,000 people seems to be a lot, but after removing the overdue ones, more than 18,000 people are scattered into such a large encirclement, and the strength of troops in a single direction is actually a little thin.

After observing for more than an hour, there was nothing abnormal, and the orc-sparse guards changed their guards once.

The rain began to lighten, but the fog became heavier.

Carlos hesitated a few times, then finally pulled out a flare gun and pulled the trigger at the sky.

Three red-hot flares staggered into the sky, with no screaming sound and no special light and shadow effects.

The warriors, whose chests burned with rage, finally could not suppress the frenzy of battle.

The order to kill quietly was forgotten with an earth-shattering war cry.

The battle to raid the Dark Gate begins.