Elves have very long lifespans, Kreel thought enviously as he looked at Vereesa.
Okay, I believe you.
"But I don't trust you," Vereesa retorted. "If I reveal valuable information, will you lead us out of here?"
"The time isn't right yet." Kreel lowered his head and thought for a moment. "At the crucial moment of the final battle, you must find a way to obtain the Demon Soul, then destroy it, and you will be free."
"I've heard that the Demon Soul is indestructible." Vereesa didn't believe it.
"Nothing is indestructible," Kreel laughed. "At the right time, it can be as fragile as a cake."
Seeing that Vereesa still refused to believe it, Kreel picked up the exquisite sword on the table:
"This weapon is yours; it represents the employer's sincerity."
Vereesa took the sword and carefully stroked it, then suddenly understood something.
"That's enough sincerity. Okay, let me state the conclusion first: both the humanoid form and the Rotting Dragon Corpse are Red Dragon Queens."
"What are you talking about?" Rhonin retorted, unconvinced. "How could they all be the Red Dragon Queen?"
Kreel's expression remained unchanged. "Continue."
Vereesa smiled gently, "I've met the Red Dragon Queen in her human form a few times. I was there when Rhonin fought Uther and saw the Rotting Dragon Corpse with my own eyes."
After a pause, Vereesa continued:
"The Windrunner family originates from a distinguished surname. An ancestor once served as a court scribe for Queen Azshara, responsible for compiling ancient texts and recording the Queen's words and actions. Unfortunately, after the Sundering, most of the historical records were lost. Upon arriving in Silvermoon City, only half a notebook—a research note on the Dragon King written by the Queen herself—remained. Although we carefully preserved it, the writing became increasingly blurred until it simply disappeared, leaving no explanation. I remember one sentence: ' The Red Dragon Queen's flames possess a dark aura; that is the power of the Maw, maintaining a balance with the power of the Dragon Aspects.'"
Rhonin retorted again, "What does that prove? What is the power of the Maw?"
Kreel listened with rapt attention, ignoring Rhonin: "And then? What else did you discover?"
Vereesa whispered, "The human-form Red Dragon Queen and the Rotting Dragon Corpse share a common trait: identical pride. Therefore, they are both Red Dragon Queens."
"That's it? This proves absolutely nothing, it's a joke." Rhonin was both amused and exasperated.
To Rhonin's bewilderment, Kreel wore a satisfied smile:
"Elf, you have won a chance to live. Remember my words: if you cooperate, my master is willing to save you."
This time he used "master" instead of "employer".
Kreel left, Rhonin was still completely confused. Vereesa handed Rhonin her sword.
"I don't understand, what are you talking about?" Rhonin asked, taking the sword with a puzzled look.
Vereesa sighed:
"Don't overthink it. Think about how to get the Demon Soul. I have a plan. Just say that the Demon Soul helps you with meditation and can increase the success rate of Holy Word."
The deal between Nekros and Kreel was successfully completed. A long convoy drove into the fortress, unloaded a large amount of war materials, and transported away hundreds of Dragon Eggs.
The warm sunlight shone on Grim Batol, Nekros's face beamed with a smile, but the thought of the lost Dragon Eggs brought a pang of heartache to his eyes.
Soon, the soldiers were dressed in new clothes, carrying gleaming Battle Axes and wearing sturdy armor. Although it wasn't made by the Ironforge Dwarves, its quality was by no means inferior.
Ballistae and Catapults stood ready, Nekros dispatched all his dragon knights. Their target: Warchief Zuluhed.
Knowing the terrifying power of the Rotting Dragon, Nekros decided that now was not the time and would set up an ambush on Zuluhed's return journey.
To prevent a sneak attack from the Rotting Dragon, Talanastrasz, the Red Dragon Queen's most powerful consort, is ready for battle and has joined the party.
Rhonin obtained the Demon Soul as he wished, and thick scales tightly protected him on the Dragon's chest.
Nekros rode a Worg, urging the troops forward. He had heard that Zuluhed's army was nearly wiped out, with only the supervisory force remaining, and the soldiers' morale was high.
Of course, Nekros wouldn't think that way. He knew the Alliance supported Zuluhed and that King Terenas of Lordaeron was friendly towards the Orcs.
Perhaps reinforcements would arrive, so Nekros dared not be careless and gritted his teeth to accept Kreel's deal.
Nekros thought of his dragon rider, looked up at the sky, and saw Talanastrasz hidden in a cloud. Unfortunately, he was too big, only half of his dragon wing and long tail were visible. This Dragon, whose size was comparable to Deathwing, was his source of confidence.
All he needs to do is win, and he will be the new chieftain of the Dragonmaw Clan. Nekros can already see the chieftainship beckoning to him.
Upon reaching the designated location, Nekros directed the Orcs to construct fortifications, making this the only route they could take unless Zuluhed abandoned Grim Batol.
Before long, billowing dust appeared in the distance, and Zuluhed's defeated army finally arrived.
From a distance, the soldiers looked disheveled and exhausted, and Zuluhed, riding his Worg, was so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open.
Seeing that someone was blocking his way, Zuluhed forced himself to open his eyes.
"Nekros, you really were waiting for me here. Did you think I wouldn't be prepared?"
Zuluhed was exhausted, but his voice was still strong.
Nekros laughed, "Look at you pathetic bunch, you can barely stand up. It's time to change the Warchief's position."
The dragon riders circled in the sky, and found nothing unusual except for Zuluhed's exhausted oversight forces.
Zuluhed scoffed, "Fool, you probably don't know, but this land has witnessed countless great battles, and countless Trolls have been wiped out by humans."
Nekros was baffled and didn't understand what Zuluhed meant.
"My warriors, rise up and fight!"
A piercing roar rang in Nekros's ears, not like the howl of a living creature, but carrying a terrifying and eerie aura.
The sound didn't come from the sky, but from the surrounding underground. The Orcs panicked and were thrown into chaos.
Dust billowed, shrouding the nearby hills in dust, as the Corpses of a group of Trolls emerged from the ground.
Nekros was horrified. The mountains and plains were filled with Undead, and these Troll Undead had intact skeletons and were wielding all sorts of rusty weapons. It was clear that Zuluhed had come prepared.
At the same time, a large group of Skeletal Dragons appeared in the sky and engaged in battle with Nekros's dragon riders.
There were too many Undead Trolls; they Charge down from the foot of the mountain and clashed with the terrified Orcs.
Nekros hurriedly ordered his soldiers to engage in battle. The Orcs had no experience fighting the Undead, so the first priority was to build their confidence.
Charge with me!
Despite his leg injury, Nekros led his Personal Guard into the mass of skeletons.
Fortunately, the resurrected Undead Trolls were weak and almost no match for them; their only advantage was their sheer numbers.
The Orcs' confidence soared, and they quickly stabilized their battle lines. However, the dragon riders in the sky continued to cry out in agony, proving they were no match for the Skeletal Dragons.
"Talanastrasz, I need your help!" Nekros.