This time it was different; Gizrul was one of the more valued dragons among the third generation of red dragons. Although he was violent and had a strong inclination towards destruction, as a battle dragon, these traits were considered advantages.
Gizrul was taken down, almost in an instant.
The Red Dragon Queen, Alexstrasza, didn't perceive the details, but instinctively knew that a strong foe had arrived.
However, the mental image sent by a young female dragon made Alexstrasza both laugh and cry.
Duke Marcus.
The moment she saw the image, Alexstrasza recognized Duke.
To be honest, Alexstrasza had never taken human champions seriously. The few who had caught her eye were but a handful. Even the Sun Mage, Anastarian, and Antonidas, who were both leaders of their nations, received nothing more than an acknowledging "Oh" from her.
Even among the great figures she remembered over the course of ten thousand years, Duke was one of the few.
She remembered Duke specifically, even when he was just a mere Earth Mage.
No reason; the siege of Karazhan had left an indelible impression on her.
Duke's rain-like barrage of magical bullets and the magical baptism that seemed capable of decimating the Red Dragonflight were turned into a grand display of fireworks by the clever young Duke.
Missing the dragons that could kill, but hitting with each insignificant spell, Alexstrasza felt as if her entire race had been toyed with by Duke. Yet she had to be privately grateful to this cunning youngster, nearly awarding him a medal for his efforts.
Now, he was here again.
As a potential savior.
In truth, the dragons had brought this control upon themselves.
Initially, due to Neltharion's betrayal, the dragons suffered heavy casualties, nearly causing the extinction of the Blue Dragonflight.
In the end, the corrupted Dragon Soul was reclaimed, and the dragons cursed the artifact so that no dragon could use it. But the proud dragons forgot about the other races, leading to today's humiliation.
Once, if the Alliance had sent such a young man to save her, she would have scorned him.
But now, controlled by the Demon Soul, enslaved by the orcs, the dignity of the dragonkind had been trampled upon.
Chained, beaten, subjected to soul-level torment...
And the orc warlock, Neikrus, was using her as a bargaining chip, forcing second-generation dragons to breed, to create more whelps for the Horde's use.
If it wasn't for Alexstrasza's discovery that she could avoid this by maintaining her human form, things could be worse.
In fact, Alexstrasza was barely holding on. She felt a spiritual weakness. If she succumbed or weakened further, she would lose the protective magic over her eggs, endangering her potential children.
The dragons of Azeroth were unique. A female dragon's eggs were not her true offspring, much like human women's eggs. Red dragons were similar, periodically laying eggs. However, these eggs required a male dragon's special soul heritage and power infusion to hatch into true dragons.
Alexstrasza knew that many ambitious beings coveted these precious eggs.
The Red Dragon Queen couldn't help but murmur in her heart, "Duke! Hurry and save me. If you rescue me before my treasures are harmed, I'll be grateful forever. Otherwise... hmph! If you're too late, don't blame me for taking it out on you... uh, I guess I can't expect a mere human to be so perfect... How conflicted..."
She was torn between relying on Duke's rescue and feeling that placing her hopes on a not-so-powerful human was perhaps too much.
In her despair, Alexstrasza was surprisingly a bit confused.
Her once lofty and proud thoughts, Duke couldn't guess.
At this moment, Duke had come across an unexpected ally.
In the original timeline, when the Alliance was planning to rescue the Red Dragon Queen, the Horde's main force had been defeated, leaving only scattered tribes resisting. So the Wetlands were filled with Alliance forces—from the Wildhammer dwarves' gryphon riders of Aerie Peak to the Bronzebeard dwarves of Ironforge, and the Knights of the Silver Hand from Lordaeron.
Now, it was the enemy's territory.
Duke hadn't expected anyone to help him here, but he stumbled upon a significant figure—Prince Muradin Bronzebeard.
Prince, because the father of the three Bronzebeard brothers had passed, and Magni Bronzebeard had succeeded as king. Being Magni's younger brother, Muradin naturally became a prince.
After the young female dragon had fled, Duke was dumbfounded to see Muradin and a group of dwarf warriors emerging from the ground. "What are ye doin' here?"
"Balderdash! If ye, the Alliance's Deputy Commander, can be here, why can't a Khaz Modan dwarf be here?"
Ah, dwarves were always so straightforward, almost brutal to human eyes.
Duke couldn't help but smile.
Indeed! This was still dwarf territory, just occupied by the Horde.
"Haha, my mistake. I'm glad to see ye, my friend," Duke exclaimed, bending down and opening his arms in delight.
Duke quickly realized he'd been overly enthusiastic.
"Welcome, eternal friend of the Bronzebeard dwarves." Muradin, carrying at least sixty pounds of armor, practically lunged forward, giving Duke a bear hug.
"Crack." Duke clearly heard the snapping of his bones. He felt as if he was about to suffer multiple fractures.
Muradin immediately realized he'd gone too far and let go of Duke. "Damn, ye human mages are always so fragile."
Ouch! It was my fault! I was wrong! I, a college student, crossed over with this physique. Is it my fault? I've been training! I've been training, okay?