The red dots in the sky were getting closer; once they got closer, they turned out to be seven giant red Dragons.
The lead Red Dragon was the largest, with a long, slender body, a wide wingspan, fine scales, and sharp angles arranged along its back, giving it a streamlined beauty. Its length was comparable to that of a small Castle.
Robbie finally Dao Heart unease came from: the Dragonkin. He had overlooked the fact that the Red Dragonflight would join the war.
Seeing this, Baron Rivendare hurriedly jumped onto the battlement and roared, "Soldiers on the wall, listen up! Scatter! All of you! Find somewhere to hide! Quickly, there's no time! Jump off the wall!"
The hot-tempered baron, his eyes bloodshot with rage, kicked over several soldiers who were staring blankly at the Dragonkin, and loudly ordered them to disperse. Chaos erupted on the city wall.
Gazing at the Dragon drawing ever closer in the sky, already able to feel the immense air currents carried by Dragonkin flight, the Baron gave a bitter smile and said to Robbie:
"I know the Red Dragonflight has always been an ally of the Orcs. The claim that the Red Dragon Queen was enslaved is pure nonsense. Stratholme has never considered the Dragonkin an enemy, and even if they knew they were, they couldn't defend against them. Stratholme is finished. Robbie, you take the Prince and run for your lives. Stratholme can't be held."
The Red Dragonflight participated in the Battle of Stratholme.
Yes, without siege equipment and without enough food and supplies, the Orcs must rely on the Dragonkin to win.
Robbie secretly blamed himself for his lack of experience and for not considering everything thoroughly; he should have thought of the Red Dragonflight.
The Guardians ' historical records are riddled with inconsistencies. The revered Red Dragon Queen was enslaved by the Orcs of the Dragonmaw Clan, and the other Dragonkin simply stood by and watched, offering no assistance. What happened to the promise of solidarity and mutual support?
Perhaps the Demon Soul is powerful enough to threaten the Dragonkin, but a powerful Dragonkin cannot be without allies.
Afterwards, the Red Dragon Queen, who was miraculously rescued by two unknown figures, Rhonin and Vereesa Windrunner, casually let go of the Orcs who had enslaved her, attributing the crime of enslaving the Red Dragonflight solely to the Dragonmaw Clan.
Even the Dragonmaw Clan, the culprits, are still alive and well, having established a home in the Twilight Highlands.
That's absolutely incredible.
The hidden secret here is easy to deduce: the Red Dragons were originally allies of the Orcs.
Robbie didn't know when this alliance was established, but judging from historical clues, it might have been earlier than the opening of the Dark Portal.
Robbie stared at the largest Red Dragon, and could already see the disdain and Pride in its eyes as it looked down at Stratholme.
"What's the dragon's name?" Robbie asked.
"The Red Dragon Princess Yalishandra, daughter of Alexstrasza and her first consort, Tyranastrasz," Baron Rivendare Rivendell gasped. The Red Dragon's enormous size made even the Baron feel a great sense of oppression.
"Yalishandra once fought Onyxia, the Black Dragon Princess, three times to a draw. She is widely recognized as the successor to the Red Dragon Queen, and her strength is formidable."
"The Red Dragon Princess Yalishandra? Never heard of her before, could it be..."
Robbie's heart skipped a beat, and a sudden glimmer of hope appeared.
Baron Rivendare grabbed an iron spear, shouted, and hurled it at Princess Yalishandra.
A contemptuous smile appeared on the Red Dragon Princess's lips. With a flick of her claws, the iron spear changed direction and fell limply to the ground.
The Baron's attack only made the Red Dragon pause slightly, and then Robbie heard deep breathing.
"Scatter!" the Baron roared.
A burst of fire descended from the sky, covering a hundred-meter-long section of the city wall. The bricks were scorched red-hot. In that brief moment, hundreds of soldiers who had no time to escape lost their lives and turned into ashes under the dragon's flames.
The Red Dragon Princess let out a triumphant laugh, and seven Dragons descended from the sky one after another, constantly brewing Flames. The soldiers guarding the city hurriedly raised their bows and arrows and shot them at the Dragonkin in the sky.
The Red Dragon Princess's scales were strong and she couldn't be hurt by arrows, while the other six smaller Red Dragons had to take cover. The humans' resistance enraged the Red Dragons, who abandoned the soldiers on the city walls and flew over the houses of Stratholme, venting their anger by breathing Flame.
Houses were burned down, streets were ablaze, Flames engulfed everything, and countless lives were lost.
Led by the Red Dragon Princess, the seven Red Dragons wreaked havoc in Stratholme. The entire Stratholme was ablaze with flames and billowing with smoke. The Dragonkin, flying through the air, were incredibly agile, deliberately avoiding the soldiers and only killing civilians.
In this situation, even Robbie panicked and didn't know how to fight back.
After spewing enough Flames, the seven Red Dragons were finally satisfied. They flapped their wings, left Stratholme, landed in the Orcs camp, and transformed into human form.
Upon seeing the seven Red Dragons approach, Uther was so astonished that he forgot to pray to the Holy Light. He stared blankly as the seven Red Dragons ignited Stratholme, a look of disbelief on his face.
Why is the Red Dragon Princess here?
"How can we take Stratholme without the help of the Red Dragon? Are you going to rely on your useless Paladins?" Thrall mocked Uther, then quickly went to greet the Red Dragon princess.
"This is the last time, Orcs," the Red Dragon princess said Pride. "This is the last time our Red Dragon race will help you Orcs. We hope you cherish this hard-won opportunity, Savior Thrall."
"To save Azeroth," Thrall grinned.
The Red Dragon Princess looked disgusted, but had no choice but to reply, "To save Azeroth."
Stratholme was filled with wailing.
This battle resulted in the loss of thousands of soldiers, as well as an even greater number of civilians.
Even more terrifying was the resulting drop in morale. The Dragons flying in the sky instilled a sense of powerlessness, and the soldiers were filled with despair, like walking corpses, while the generals all had gloomy faces.
Human strength is no match for Dragonkin. All courage is rendered useless.
Robbie walked through the charred streets, many houses still burning fiercely. Young mothers wept, cradling their infants' corpses; husbands sobbed uncontrollably over their wives' charred bodies. Sorrow permeated every corner. The surviving residents sighed and lamented; despair filled Stratholme.
"We're fucked."
An old man with disheveled hair and dirty face sat on the ground, eating rotten Mili of rice.
That was Plague Grain; he probably wanted to turn himself into Undead and then hide underground.
Robbie didn't stop him; he didn't know how to fight the Red Dragon flying in the air either.
If only I could fly.
"Haha! The Dragonkin only needs one true dragon-slaying warrior to wipe them all out."
The disheveled middle-aged man shouted frantically, wandering the streets like a madman.
Robbie noticed that although the middle-aged man was dirty and covered in dust, he was dressed in fine clothes and could be identified as a nobleman, perhaps a relative of some lord.
Robbie shook his head and continued walking; he had no time to deal with a madman.
"I, Flor, will never compromise with the Dragonkin."
The middle-aged man roared incoherently.
Robbie quickly turned around, grabbed the middle-aged man by the collar, and asked, "What did you say your name was?"
"I am Sir Flor," the middle-aged man replied politely.
What methods do you have to deal with the Dragonkin?
"I have a Foror's Compendium of Dragon Slaying. Would you like to see it?"
The middle-aged man flashed a set of pearly white teeth and asked.