The trumpet of midwinter had sounded, and on the Killing Plains beneath the Icecrown Fortress, an army of more than 150,000 Alliance and Horde had gathered at this moment. They have gathered here from all over the world for one goal - to kill the Lich King.

Frost Sorrow whispered, and the undead began to roar. The siege battle was overwhelming, the artillery of the Alliance, the heavy catapults of the tribe ran wildly, and countless cannonballs and boulders streaked across the gray sky and smashed into the frozen dark castle.

Rows of undead soldiers were knocked out of the city walls and shot down. Bones splattered, and countless souls screamed as they fled from the rotting husk. The alliance and the Horde attacked together, and the strongest note of the Northern Expedition was played.

The rain of arrows kept flying through the sky and falling like a raging storm in the crowd. Braving long-range enemy strikes, Alliance and Horde siege towers advanced separately. And under the towering icecrown walls, dozens of Scourge Giants stand. They are made up of countless carrion and bone remains, which are brought together under the influence of dark magic to form such deformed monsters. Iron chains are entwined to form their improvised protective equipment. Poisonous gases emanated from the nostrils of these monsters, as if in an enlarged version of abomination.

At the feet of these giants, the warriors of the Alliance and the Horde seemed so small. They were only able to reach the ankles of these giants. At the height of the Icecrown Walls, these Scourge Giants form the outermost line of defense of the Scourge Legion.

The skeletal archers were also raining arrows from above the walls. The sound of dwarven muskets and cannons was endless.

On the small plateau, Ares and Varian watched it all on horseback. No battle has been more tragic than today. Fight against the water, and be reborn in a desperate situation. It's like the Battle of Lordaeron back then. There is only one chance.

With the sound of cannons, a tidal wave of Azeroth's coalition forces rushed towards the Icecrown fortress. The Scourge Giants let out a deafening roar, however, countless cannonballs and crossbow arrows flew towards them before the Alliance could rush in.

With a whistling sound, the cannonballs tore through the air and flew towards the flesh golems.

In an instant, cannonballs and arrows pierced through the iron armor, splattering flesh and blood. More than a dozen Scourge giants fell in a dense artillery fire. At this time, the siege towers of the Alliance and Horde also advanced below the city walls. The remaining Scourge giants are still making their last stands. They slowly raised their big feet and kicked the ants away from the Alliance troops. The advancing siege towers began to bombard the giant undead at close range. The dwarven musketeers stood at the top of the tower, constantly aiming, firing. Shoot bullets at these flesh giants. In fact, with such a huge target, there is almost no need to aim.

There was a loud bang at close range, and a scourge giant was blown to the head by a dwarven cannon. Rotting flesh burst out of its misshapen head, flowing down its skull. The Alliance soldiers standing at the feet of the giants were watered with the dirty blood, and one by one they became "blood people".

The other Scourge Giant crushed a Horde's siege vehicle with the only remaining half of its body after being blasted off one side.

Walking on the rotting flesh, the warriors of the Alliance and the Horde launched a storming of the Icecrown fortress.

The siege tower finally reached the frozen walls after several vehicles were damaged. Here, undead soldiers like blue rivers are everywhere above the city walls.

Alliance griffons and tribal wyverns hovered in the air, hurling hammers and spears at the Scourge defenders, shielding the hordes as they climbed the city.

The cold wind howls in the Northland. Snowflakes sprinkled down on the large war machines of the Alliance and the Horde.

When the siege ladder was lowered, the undead army and the Azeroth coalition fought fiercely.

Here, there is only wind and snow and bitter cold, here, there is only blood and terror. The cold made it difficult for the warrior's sword to enter the sheath, and they had already drawn their swords forward, just for this bloodthirsty moment, in the cold light, hundreds of undead soldiers were smashed into their skulls and their arms were removed. And the coalition forces are the same, rivers of blood are flowing. Icecrown was covered in a layer of white and red, a mixture of snow and blood.

Sarufar roared and led the charge, his axe slashing off the heads of three zombies at once, followed by a whirlwind slash that shattered the other two skeletons. A ghoul took advantage of the chaos to pounce on him from behind, biting at his flesh and drinking the blood of the orcs. Sarufar let out a beast-like roar, grabbed the ghoul by the neck, and fell directly to the ground, and before the ghoul could get up, the orc smashed his deformed and ugly face with an axe......

Little Sarufar followed his father and charged, and everywhere he went, his battle axe slashed at the undead soldiers, cutting their rotting limbs off their bodies, and even holding their throats with one hand, tearing out the exposed veins, the bloody battle continued, although the orcs suffered huge casualties, but the blood stimulated their nerves, making the warriors more furious, they wielded two weapons, and kept slashing the undead in their path.

On the tower, several Banshee Ranger kept drawing their bows and shooting the tribal warriors on the city walls. Sarufar roared and tried to rush up and drag them down to kill them. However, the dense crowd of corpses stopped him. At this time, outside the city, the great chief Thrall, who was standing in the tribal army, began to exert his might. He closed his eyes reverently, the elements were everywhere, even in the darkest and most bleak of the icecrowns.

Moments later, a terrible bolt of lightning pierced the dark sky, smashing the golems who worked for the Scourge with the wrath of the orcs. The three Banshee Ranger were completely scorched in a deadly bolt of lightning. Their bodies turned into a ball of fire, falling from the tower and smashing into the crowd like a flaming meteorite......

In the bitter cold wind, the griffin knights flew into the sky again and again, swooping down on the undead defenders of the fortress.

The Storm Warhammer turned into a deadly ball of lightning in the hands of the Brute Hammer Dwarve, smashing into the undead archer. At the same time, with a scream, the griffon swooped down and swept across the walls, pushing rows of undead soldiers off the walls. Aside from the gigantic abominations, no one is a match for griffons and wyverns.

The sound of fierce fighting echoed in his ears, and a steady stream of warriors climbed the city walls through thirteen large siege towers. Viewed from the ground, the Icecrown Fortress stood in front of the Northern Expeditionary Army like a giant barrier. This was the last barrier, and from the ground, the soldiers fighting on the walls were as small as ants. The firelight danced and converged into a river of streamers.

Zombie stumps continue to fall from the walls, shattering into pieces of flesh when they hit the ground......