Gusts of wind from the Endless Sea swept through the tall pine trees of the Tirisfara glades, but they couldn't blow away the mist that permeated the forest. Thanks to the dark canopy, it is almost impossible to distinguish between day and night, and everywhere it seems cold and damp. Although not as widespread as it is in the Plaguelands to the east, the Undead Plague still spreads the scent of Corruption among the trees. Although the trees have not yet been twisted into giant poisonous mushrooms, their bark is a sickly purple color, with decayed and yellow branches and rotten seeds.

Under the dim skylight, every qiē here looks dark and longing, eerie and terrifying. But for those fleeing far from the Undercity, at least they can see the sky and breathe the air of freedom.

At the foot of the mountain range between the Tirisfal glades and the silver pine forest to the south, there is an abandoned stone watchtower - not Orezado? The one at the exit of Lucca's smuggling channel. Like the other ruins that can be found everywhere in the land, this lonely building is only half of the tower and its base below. The black scorch marks and mottled blood stains between the broken walls and the remnants of the walls are clearly the work of the undead meat grinder.

The front door of the stone tower was already broken, and the huge wooden tower beams fell to the ground, scattering shards on the ground. Inside the deserted watchtower, there was a small improvised campfire and a thick blanket of animal skins. An orc was lying on the blanket, and next to him, a Night Elf was busy mashing a pile of herbs into foam.

Just then, a human walked in from outside the watchtower, carrying a bundle of firewood in his arms.

"How is he, Masrae?" He went over to the embers and added a few sticks of firewood to it. The wood beeped softly and burned merrily, and the inside of the watchtower soon became warm.

"Fortunately, he just ate some porridge and fell asleep again." The Night Elf looked up from the mortar, and said, he paused and said with some concern. "He's been eating very little these days, and I'm worried that the little food he's eating won't be enough to recover from his injuries."

"I caught a hare just now while I was collecting firewood, and I'll stew it for him later," replied the human. He took a hare from his back and placed it on the ground, "I feel like our luck is improving, because finding an animal that hasn't been infected by the plague in the Tirisfala glades is harder than finding a needle in a haystack. ”

"Oh, that's amazing. I think we're in need of some luck! Masrae said with some joy, but he quickly became melancholy, "Compared to Nazaire's injury, Diego, I am more worried about his heart, Dezko's death has hit him too hard, he has been thinking that his recklessness has killed his friend these days." ”

"He'll figure it out, and Dezko can't be blamed entirely for Nazaire's death, each of us is at fault," Diego said with some self-reproach. He noticed that the sleeping orc's fingers twitched slightly. He thought for a moment and said again, "But none of that matters, what matters is what we should do now!" I've always believed that the only way for an orc to make up for his mistakes is to get revenge! ”

"You're so right, I think so too!" Masrae nodded in agreement. At this moment, the orc, who had been lying on his side, rolled over. Slowly "woke up".

"Is there anything to eat, guys?" He refused Diego's support and sat up with some difficulty, "I feel like I can eat a whole Kodo now!" ”

"Of course!" Diego picked up the hare beside him. "But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer," said Masrae, whose weak stomach can now only eat some stewed runny food. ”

"But before you do, you'll have to eat this first." Masrae handed over a fist-sized, somewhat blackened herbal dumpling from the side. A few drops of green juice also drip from time to time on it.

"Well, they look disgusting, man, I'm not a minotaur, I don't like to eat these flowers......" The orc grumbled with some dissatisfaction, but he fell silent for thinking of his old minotaur friend again.

He stopped talking, but took the gnocchi and bit it hard, the green juice quickly staining his tongue and teeth green.

"These are the Tranquility Flower and the Silver Leaf Grass, we don't have enough alchemy vessels right now to make them into healing potions, but just mashing and eating them can have at least half of the effect." Masrae explained. He didn't specialize in healing spells, and he needed the help of herbs and potions for his injuries, but fortunately he had some knowledge of them.

"How long will it take me to get better?" The blood spear stuffed the remaining half of the herb ball into his mouth and swallowed it hard. For orcs, they rarely care about the process, and tend to go straight to the result.

"Your injuries are a little more complicated than Diego's, he's only got some flesh wounds, but yours is much more complicated, the concussions of the internal organs, the burns of the skin, and finally the contamination of the wounds by the dirty water, these are very tricky......

"You just have to tell me how long it will take." Bloodspear said as gently as possible, he was not the kind of fool who didn't know what to do, and he couldn't speak ill of the lifesaver who carried him all the way out of the pile of corpses.

"It's going to take another week." Masrae estimated the time and said.

"It's not too long, I can wait." Blood Spear gasped and said, after going through so many things, this orc's body began to change a lot, becoming calmer and more patient.

Just then, Diego walked in from outside the tower with a hare that had been skinned and gutted. He took out a copper box bearing the mark of the Twelfth Legion—a copper cutlery that had been given to Colonel Todman at the time of Red Ridge Mountain, and was very useful—and chopped the rabbit and threw it in.

He scooped some water from the stone sink in the corner of the wall and placed the copper box on top of the campfire. The tank, which had been destroyed along with the watchtower due to its heavy and sturdy material, had been fetched the other day from a mountain spring.

"Diego, do you know who did it to us?" Looking at Diego, who was rummaging through his bag for salt and other seasonings, the orc asked faintly as he leaned against a section of the tower.

Diego stopped rummaging and sat down. In fact, since escaping the Undercity, he had thought about it more than once, and he had gradually come to some guesses.

"When I was in the underground caverns, I saw many demons among the ambushers." He whispered.

Neither the orcs nor the Night Elves said a word, but looked at him in silence, for they both knew that there must be something to come.

"While it's possible that these demons were summoned by the Warlocks, when I saw the evil Lava Dog, I knew right away that this was not the case. Because Warlocks can only summon low-level demons such as imps, hellhounds, voidwalkers, or succubi, and sometimes, if they pay enough price, they can summon high-level demons like Doom Guardians or Demon Guardians, but never before has a warlock ever been able to summon the Evil Lavahound, a rampaging beast that has always been loyal only to the Manari demons of the Burning Legion. ”

"So?" Masrae couldn't help but ask, feeling that his train of thought was a little less than Diego's storytelling.

"So, since there is a demon shadow behind it, in the Undercity, who else can there be but Varimathas?" Diego concluded.

In the Undercity, the name of Varimathas is almost universally known. Originally one of the three Dreadlords who watched over the Lich King, the Nasrezm Demon eventually joined Sylvanas, the Banshee King, who had escaped the Lich King's control, and became the de facto Consul of the Undercity after the Burning Legion's failed third invasion of Azeroth.

"Why did he attack us?" Masrae asked.

"I don't know, but I have a guess," Diego said, glancing at the Night Elves, "remember what we encountered at the forward outpost in the Barrens?" ”

"Of course, those people of the Fireblade Clan want to destroy that outpost and then blame the humans and provoke a war between the Alliance and the Horde."

"Yes, although they failed, it has to be said that it was a very insidious idea, and if it hadn't been for our coincidence, they would have succeeded."

Masrae nodded thoughtfully.

"A series of events later proved that there was a demon shadow behind the Fireblade Clan, and after the sewer was ambushed by the demons, I thought, such a good method, the demons will definitely not use it only once, and they may also attack us to set up blame." Diego went on to analyze.

"Blame? What calamity? Bloodspear asked, puzzled.

"Do you think a Nasrezm demon who is well-versed in deception and lies will truly submit to a woman, even if she is a forsaken?" Diego asked rhetorically, "What would the Forsaken of the city think if they left our bodies aside after killing Sylvanas?" ”

If the previous guess was Diego's conclusion based on clues, then the last conclusion was entirely due to the memory of his previous life. Because in the original history, when the Horde and the Alliance went on an expedition to the north of Northrend a few years later, Valimas, who still did not forget to be loyal to the Burning Legion, did take advantage of this opportunity to conspire with Putres, the great apothecary of the Undercity, to betray Queen Sylvanas and drive the Dark Lady out of the Undercity, and also brought unbearable losses to both the Horde and the Alliance in the event of the Gate of Damnation, almost provoking a major war between the two. Later, the Horde and the Alliance, who had figured out the truth, worked together to suppress the Great Rebellion of Valimassas and the Royal Apothecary, with Grand Apothecary Putress being killed by the Alliance and Valimasas fleeing after being defeated by the Horde.

Masrae and Bloodspear's eyes lit up all at once, and they both felt that they had touched the truth of the matter, this was really an unwarranted disaster! (To be continued.) )