The night was tranquil and serene, a night of rest.
The forest, already consumed by fire, was as silent as a tomb, capable of burying everything within.
As the last ember in the forest extinguished, the intense heat of the world finally subsided.
On the cobblestone road between two vast groves, a group of human sentinels were stationed at the crossroads. They had a standard alert system, plenty of fires to expand their field of vision, and both visible and hidden posts.
However, outside the shadows of the campfires, some large yet utterly silent shadows quietly infiltrated their alert range.
They slowed their pace, carefully stepping on the charred, carbonized bark on the ground, their hands tightly gripping various weapons to avoid making collision noises while moving.
Clearly, their worries were unnecessary.
The keenness of humans was far inferior to their long-eared allies—the elves.
The earth was pitch black, with only occasional cold moonlight piercing through the gaps in the dense clouds.
The light fell on the ground, revealing a strange sight.
Darkness was a deadly thing for humans, but for trolls, this level of darkness was nothing. Years of traversing through forests endowed trolls with a unique talent.
No, it should be said that as the night elves, a Llanet branch of the dark trolls from 14,000 years ago, their talent was inherited from the trolls.
At this moment, the trolls' pupils dilated, sweeping away the darkness—the details of every destroyed forest were clear.
Facing these humans who destroyed the forest, the trolls harbored great anger.
So, when they struck, what they threw were spears filled with rage.
Almost instantly, a scout squad of twelve completely vanished from this world.
In three days, using the fire to block the Horde's path, Duke's rescue team reduced the distance between them and the Horde's main force to 120 kilometers.
This was already a very sensitive distance. If they were to march desperately, they could reach it in half a day.
At this point, however, Duke lost track of the Horde's main force.
It wasn't that Orgrim's army had disappeared, but that all the scouts Duke had sent from Stratholme had been killed. Not only were the scouts killed, but even the five flamethrower squads Duke had sent from Marco were wiped out.
Duke's face was ashen.
What shook Duke and Alleria was yet to come.
Clearly understanding that the whereabouts of his army had been exposed, Orgrim played a beautiful hand of information suppression. He not only sent out Zul'jin's troll troops to hunt down human and elf scouts everywhere, but he also had Zuluhed's dragon rider troops attack all human settlements in the area.
You should know, this area is far from the later Eastern Plaguelands, which was completely destroyed, barren, and full of plague and death. As the rear of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, this place was still an important food production area for Lordaeron.
With most of the military strength being pulled to defend the border of Silverpine Forest, the Stratholme area, originally a rear area, was extremely empty. Many towns couldn't even muster a squad of archers, let alone deal with red dragons flying around in the sky, spewing fire.
For a time, every city was in danger.
The nobles of Maris Farm, Darrowshire, Stratholme, and other places all asked Lordaeron for help. Under great pressure, King Terenas immediately threw a stack of urgent pleas for help to Duke.
Duke almost wanted to die every time he saw a magical message."
"Does Orgrim want to attack Stratholme?" Windsor asked.
"No, this is just a diversion." Duke was certain, "If Orgrim dares to attack any human city before attacking Quel'Thalas, I bet that the troll leader Zul'jin will take his people and leave."
"The problem is, no Alliance king understands trolls like you do, even knowing who the troll leader is. Or they know you're right, but due to pressure from below, they have to put pressure on you."
Duke couldn't help but smile bitterly, "Reggie, now you know the position of Alliance Deputy Commander isn't easy, right?"
Windsor nodded.
"I have to admit, Orgrim played this hand beautifully. Now the Silvermoon Council, those arrogant fools, firmly believe that the Horde wants to take care of Lordaeron's cities. And Lordaeron just hopes the Horde will roll away quickly, whether they fight elves or jump into the sea, as long as they don't wander on their land."
"So, we can only rely on the Windrunner sisters?"
"Yes, let's set up camp."
With fewer troops than the Horde, Duke didn't dare to advance rashly. His small force could flank the Horde with the elves. But once ambushed and plunged into chaos, their destruction would be a matter of minutes.
He couldn't afford to gamble.
On the other side...
"In the name of Silvermoon, where the hell are they?" Alleria ran through the forest with a long, thin sword in her hand, her figure blurred by the slapping of leaves and branches.
The few remaining rangers had spread out in a fan shape to expand the search range.
However, when Alleria realized that their enemies included trolls, she desperately hoped they wouldn't run into any troll encirclements. She hoped it would be her or Sylvanas who found these detestable green skins first.
Alleria was lost again.
Both her reason and emotions told her that Duke's inference was correct. In fact, it was because Alleria listened to and followed his arrangement that she was here, climbing mountains and crossing ridges in search of the Horde.
On the other hand, she couldn't help but think that if she hadn't come for help, she would be with her family and compatriots to fight against the invaders when the orcs and trolls reached Eversong Woods.
This was a contradictory feeling.
She knew very well that Duke, for some special reason, wanted her to sever ties with Quel'Thalas. But she couldn't abandon her country and compatriots.
After all, this was the land she had lived on and fought for for thousands of years.
Alleria was extremely conflicted.
At this moment, she suddenly heard a whistle in the wind. It was her sister calling her.
Alleria rushed over quickly.
It was a three-way intersection in the forest.
This was not a road in the traditional sense, made by people. It was more like a path specifically used by animals. However, such paths held special significance for trolls. Trolls liked to use these three-way intersections to declare important things.
Like now—that was a dried troll corpse hanging at the three-way intersection.
The fur on the corpse still had a sheen, and all the feather and tooth ornaments on it were new, but this troll looked as if all the flesh and blood in its body had been drained.
"This is the former leader of a troll tribe, who failed in some sort of leadership election ceremony and was directly sacrificed to the evil god. Then, the entire tribe migrated, heading north..."