After the Great Shattering, over the Hellfire Peninsula, day and night have gradually become confused. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

Whenever you stand on the Hellfire Peninsula and look up at the sky, you can always see the stars in the sky - but sometimes bright and sometimes dark.

But Taylor doesn't lose time because of this.

Having been in Draenor for so long, Taylor was used to the weirdness of the place.

The only thing I'm not used to is my current self.

The former teammates are gone, and the Duke of Boval Vertagen, who said to himself "Child, take your teammates back to recuperate", is directly on the city wall.

Reason tells Taylor that it was not his fault, that Duke Vortagen's death was done by that damn troll, and that Generalissimo Tulayan had already avenged Duke Vortagen.

But man has emotions in addition to reason.

Taylor still couldn't help but blame himself.

If only I could keep that orc that day.

If the orcs react and support a few days late.

Maybe the Duke of Vortagan won't die......

The pain in his heart tormented Taylor for a long time, and for the first time, Taylor left his teammates behind and went on his own - poor Severn and Jeno were still wounded due to Nazgorin's attack, and Taylor, as the squad leader, should have been with them.

However, Taylor volunteered to participate in the assault on the Hellfire Fortress.

Taylor didn't know if he was guilty or not, but he knew he wanted to fight—if nothing else, but at least it would make him feel better.

Despite repeated rejections, Taylor's application was finally approved before the decisive battle, and he was temporarily transferred to Wendthor as a vanguard and commando in charge of the first wave of charges against the Hellfire Fortress.

After waiting for a long time, it was finally dawn.

With a short sword, Taylor was in the assault team, looking at Windsor, who was also shirtless and holding a sword in front.

"Alliance boys, I don't have much nonsense - a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye, just a fight!"

After saying that, Wendthor jumped on a steam locomotive first.

The shirtless commandos also came to the steam locomotive responsible for the siege cover in order, either with short swords or ivory towers.

No one spoke.

Or rather, there is no need to speak.

For the warriors of the Alliance, do they still need a reason to kill the green skins of that group of tribes?

What's more, in Draenor, the blood of the dwarven archaeological team and the Second Legion has not dissipated to this day!

……………………

On the city walls, the Horde was also ready for the last moments.

Heavily armoured blackstone orcs stood at the edge of the city walls, war hammers in their hands and shields in their hands.

Sal stood behind him, squinting slightly, staring at the battlefield.

With the help of Vision, Thrall was able to get a full view of the Alliance's movements, and saw a large number of ivory towers and shirtless commandos, and Thrall frowned.

Yesterday's forcible spell seemed to anger the Earth Spirits - or rather, Draenor's Earth Spirits had grown mad, and Thrall felt more and more powerless.

Today, when facing the ivory tower of the Alliance, the only thing the tribe can rely on is these Blackstone heavy infantry.

The tribe almost smashed the pot and sold iron to get enough blackstone ore from Nerus, and then under the work of the blacksmiths around the clock, they finally equipped a real blackstone heavy infantry!

The blackstone ore was originally incarnated by Margolon's body, which was incomparably compatible with the orcs, and this was the strongest defense that the tribe could come up with.

There was no way, there was little fuel left, the defense equipment was in disrepair, and now the tribe in Draenor was on the verge of collapse.

The only thing that reassures Thrall is that after reinstating the shamanic teachings, the orcs have a pretty good will to fight.

The outcome of the battle is unknown, and all Thrall can do is to maximize the advantages of the orcs, compress the space for the Alliance's impact, and not let the ivory tower stand on the city walls.

As for the trolls......

Sal shook his head.

By this day, Thrall had roughly guessed what Zur was thinking, that the ancient trolls needed to change, that they had to change!

King Rastaha's death sent the trolls into a meltdown, and they are still in disarray.

The forest trolls, the jungle trolls, the frost trolls, the desert trolls, and the Zandalar trolls all looked down on anyone, and no one was convinced - and seeing that the alliance was all behind the door, the trolls here did not yet have a unified voice.

Rastaha is here, and the troll is his word, and whoever disagrees will come to fight; But now that Rastaha is dead, the trolls are not convinced by each other, and they can't start fighting at this time, and the result is that the trolls are gone.

In this expedition to Draenor, the trolls sent a lot more troops than the orcs, but these things are useless!

In the body of these trolls, Thrall almost saw the shadow of the old tribe.

Savage and terrible.

Although the orcs are also divided into clans, they are all guided by the elements and agree with the shamanic teachings in their normal state.

But trolls...... All souls are with you, and countless Loa God beliefs have made the low-level trolls mindless, while the top of various troll tribes are intriguing in the name of Loa God beliefs.

Sal kind of understands why trolls have such a long history and are now so miserable......

So the more he learns about these stupid trolls, the more Sal supports Zur's choice.

Thrall has never been an orc racist, he genuinely believes that only orcs and trolls can unite against an ever-growing alliance.

Just as he was thinking, Thrall saw the smoke of a steam locomotive.

The offensive of the alliance has finally begun.

Can't let too many steam locomotives get close!

Taking a deep breath, Thrall called for the help of the Earth Spirits once more.

No response - after pleading, Thrall only felt dizzy.

Shaking his head, Thrall turned to the Spirit of the Wind for help.

A gust of wind erupted out of thin air, blowing from the walls of the Hellfire Fortress in the direction of the Alliance position.

Needless to say, King Sarufar began to command as soon as possible.

The last few cans of fuel were tossed by the last catapults, and along with the howling wind, along with the arrows, poured over the heads of the Alliance commandos.

The bulky steam locomotive could not dodge and could only support the guards.

The arrows were blocked by the guards, but several of the hapless steam locomotives were also doused with fuel.

The next moment, the Spirit of Flame showed its strength.

The steam locomotives that had been doused with fuel were caught in the fire.

But more steam locomotives are still on the way.

There were no moats, and these steel creations were pressed against the city, and the climbing frame was erected.

Half-shirtless, armed with short blades, the Alliance commandos swarmed up.

The most tragic battle began.