Baron Geddon's intervention wasn't truly an active assault.
Whether it was "Mana Burn" or the "Living Bomb", these weren't deliberate attacks from this fiery elemental boss. They were merely the result of the high concentration of fire elements within him causing elemental disturbances in the surrounding space, leading to random damage.
To put it bluntly, some individuals were inadvertently caught in the crossfire.
Of course, only those with magical circuits would be affected by "Mana Burn". As for the "Living Bomb", it didn't discriminate between friend or foe, affecting both the Alliance and the Horde.
Regrettably, humans were rational thinkers. The simpler-minded orcs, however, believed this was human sorcery.
This time, the 'malevolent' humans were unjustly blamed.
As the human forces spiraled further into chaos, orcish warriors shouted their battle cries and initiated a desperate charge.
Duke, while riding his mount, attempted to communicate with Alexstrasza using magic. After explaining the situation briefly, the Dragonqueen took several seconds to respond.
"Duke, it's not that I don't want to assist you. But ever since the inception of the Red Dragonflight, we've adhered to one principle for millennia — whether it's me or my dragonkin, we exist to protect this world. That's our highest purpose. Do you understand?"
Duke paused for a few moments before sighing, "I understand."
In a way, the Red Dragonflight acts like stringent enforcers. Considering them as guardians would not be amiss. They hold not just those they oversee to strict standards but themselves as well. The main reason Alexstrasza agreed to intervene against the Horde for Duke was that the Horde had once enslaved her.
From Duke's perspective before his journey to Azeroth, this would equate to assaulting an officer.
"Even though Ragnaros once fought against us under the command of the malevolent Old Gods, the guardian dragons, including myself, have concluded that elemental beings are also part of this world. We won't act against them unless they show signs of world-destroying intentions. I'm sorry."
"Could you perhaps negotiate with them, urging both your forces and Ragnaros's minions to stand down?"
"I can try. I doubt they'd wish to confront me."
Ending the magical communication, Duke had an epiphany:
People often say changing the past can alter the future. However, minor changes won't bring about major shifts.
History likely possesses a self-correcting force. Even if someone traveled back and managed to save a person or two, history wouldn't easily shift. What difference does saving an inconsequential beggar make? As long as pivotal events remain unchanged, 'history' will continue its course.
Duke's current situation resembled this. The Alliance of this world had the support of the Red Dragonflight. The force of destiny then conveniently brought forth a long-existing, entirely logical power to metaphorically slap Duke, the outsider.
Fine, a slap it is.
Perhaps such inconsequential setbacks will soon pass.
But isn't life about living to the fullest?
As Duke moved with the dwarf battalion, he glanced at Alleria riding a tallstrider to his left, then at Vereesa, who looked at him with affectionate eyes to his right, and further to Sylvanas...
Duke's heart ached.
Why?
He recalled that if he couldn't genuinely alter fate, in a few years, Alleria would join the expedition to Outland and perish there. And during the Third War against the Dark Portal, Sylvanas would fall to Arthas, who led the Scourge.
Regardless of his relationship with Sylvanas, the mere fact that her transformation into the Banshee Queen would break Alleria and Vereesa's hearts made Duke feel obligated to prevent this.
It won't be easy!
Sylvanas's death and subsequent leadership of the Forsaken is undeniably one of the most crucial events in Azeroth's history. If the hypothesized history-correcting force truly exists, there must be a way to counteract it.
The most evident proof is that after the fall of Stormwind, marking the end of the First War against the Dark Portal, the system indicated that the similarity to Azeroth's world had dropped from 80% to 79%.
That being the case, Duke's theory was correct.
There should be specific pivotal moments in time. Changing these moments could entirely alter the future.
He named these moments 'singularities'.
While these singularities closely matched the Azeroth history Duke knew, they diverged in one key aspect: they represented the most crucial turning points in Azeroth's history.
If Arthas hadn't taken up "Frostmourne"...
If the desperate Kael'thas hadn't been pressured into betrayal by that insufferable human Marshal...
These were ultimate decision points in Azeroth's history. Failure or absence of these events might equate to the collapse of Azeroth's historical foundation.
Such are these singularities.
Suddenly, Duke voiced out, "Alleria, Vereesa, I promise to make you both happy."
His unexpected words caused Alleria, who always prioritized the greater good, to blush and glare playfully, "Fool! What nonsense are you spouting in the middle of battle?"
Vereesa sweetly lowered her head, hummed, and said, "Mm-hmm."
Sylvanas facepalmed nearby, "Young man, mind the situation! If you pull this again, even if you're both my brother-in-law and sister's beau, I'll deal with you."
"Alleria, stop—" Alleria was frantic.
"Vereesa," Vereesa merely pouted.
Duke chuckled to himself, thinking, "Alright, Fate, you win this round. But when it comes to what I've set my mind on, even if I have to wage war against you, I won't back down."
While Duke contemplated, the Alliance's situation continued to deteriorate.
The Alliance's right wing, due to the orcs' misfortune, was ironically in the best shape. Through a telescope, Anduin, at least, could see a relatively intact formation, and the flag of Ironforge hadn't fallen.
The left wing wasn't faring much better. Dalaran's infantry was not particularly reliable since they were mercenaries signed under contract.