Air Force Captain Dur'in sobbed uncontrollably, "Our Nether Rays have been eaten by the Orcs."
"What?! It's all eaten?" Voren'thal exclaimed in shock. "How much is left?"
"Half of them were eaten. Last night, a group of Orcs stormed the Skyguard, forced our knights to land, and roasted and ate them along with the Nether Rays."
The Dwarf Dur'in looked as aggrieved as a wronged young wife.
"Have the Orcs suffered any losses?" Voren'thal asked worriedly.
Dur'in head. "We strictly followed your orders and did not fight back, but our men and the Nether Rays died horribly."
Voren'thal let out a long sigh of relief, "As long as the Orcs haven't suffered any losses, that's good. The brothers who died are all heroes. It's alright, we still have an absolute advantage."
Dur'in unwilling to accept it. "Did our brothers and the Nether Ray die in vain?"
Voren'thal said sternly, "Remember, the Orcs have saved Azeroth time and time again. We should be grateful."
Dur'in wiped away his tears. "Okay, I understand."
Voren'thal's face hardened, and he issued a stern warning. "I expect the Skyguard to forget the unpleasantness and become good friends with the Orcs. You must be magnanimous. If this affects today's battle, don't blame me for reporting you to A'dal and punishing you."
Upon thinking of Naru'adal, Durin quickly stopped his tears.
In the morning, the Skyguard members had a hearty meal and assembled in their Nether Rays.
The Dwarf Dur'in fully armored, and the Nether Ray he rode was the largest, its broad back capable of accommodating five Skyguards.
Under Dur'in's command, the five hundred Nether Rays of the Skyguard stood in neat formation, blotting out the sky like a dark cloud.
Nether Rays may appear docile, but they actually possess sharp teeth and are quite ferocious.
Inspired by their experience in taming Gryphon, the Dwarves successfully tamed the Nether Rays of Outland.
At Tempest Keep, thirty fiery red Dragonhawk hastily went to meet the enemy, their formation loose.
Leading the group was the Phoenix summoned by Kael'thas, with a Blood Elf woman standing on its back.
"I am the Grand Astromancer Solarian. Who brings me here?"
Dur'in hearing this. Solarian was Kael'thas's chief astromage, and was most skilled in Demons magic.
"Solarian, surrender now, and I'll spare your life."
The ten Nether Rays firmly protected Dur'in in the center, putting his mind at ease.
"You're the one who should surrender! You think you can conquer Tempest Keep with these Nether Rays?" Solarian mocked arrogantly.
"Attack!" Dur'in shouted.
Five hundred Nether Rays surrounded them, making Solarian's thirty Dragonhawks appear rather weak.
Voren'thal and his generals watched from below; the disparity in strength was too great, and it should have been a crushing defeat.
Solarian calmly took out a crystal, from which came a deafening roar—the voice of Orcs.
The Skyguard was thrown into chaos, with Nether Rays flying everywhere.
Many Nether Rays were tearing at each other, creating chaos. The Nether Ray that Dur'in was riding was violently jolted, and the four Skyguards besides him were thrown off and fell into the endless Abyss.
Solarian watched with a smile. The Skyguard had lost more than two hundred Nether Rays, and the surviving knights barely managed to keep their mounts steady.
Dur'in frightened that his face turned pale, his legs went weak, and he led his team back to camp looking disheveled.
"Prophet, last night the Orcs ate the Nether Rays in public, and they were terrified. They flee in panic at the mere sound of the Orcs."
Voren'thal slapped him across the face. "What a useless piece of trash! What use are you to me? When will the Skyguard be ready for battle?"
Dur'in wronged, "The psychological trauma inflicted on the Nether Ray is very difficult to heal. It can take anywhere from three to five years to several decades, and may even affect its entire life."
Voren'thal kicked Dur'in to the ground. "A poor performance in battle deserves death! Seize him!"
Law Enforcement Force stepped forward, restrained Dur'in, and took him away to await further orders.
Voren'thal's brow furrowed deeply; without air support, the war had become difficult.
"There's only one way right now," Voren'thal quickly came up with an idea.
Countess Liadrin's face darkened. "You mean the piecemeal tactic?"
The "piecemeal attack" tactic is a type of siege warfare strategy.
The mages gathered their forces and used Mass Teleport to send the soldiers to the city walls, where they engaged the enemy in close combat.
Because the number of soldiers that can be teleported at a time is limited, the small groups of soldiers who manage to climb the city walls will inevitably be surrounded and attacked.
This repeated, multi-pronged attack depleted the enemy's manpower, ultimately resulting in a pyrrhic victory.
Voren'thal's eyes flashed with a fierce light. "Fortunately, we have plenty of cannon fodder; it's time to put them to use."
Aldor, the Scryers, brought a total of 50,000 adventurers, perfectly suited to serve Cannon Fodder Troops.
Voren'thal oversaw the construction of a Teleportation Array, drawing three hundred mages from the Aldor, the Scryers, and Silvermoon City to assist in casting the spell.
The three hundred mages can teleport once every three minutes, each time sending a squad of five hundred people to Tempest Keep.
Voren'thal led the Scryers to oversee the battle, and any cowards were to be executed without mercy. Every five hundred adventurers formed a square and marched up to the Altar.
Upon learning the news, Kael'thas personally led his troops to Tempest Keep, ready for battle.
The first group of five hundred men teleported to the entrance of Tempest Keep, only to be riddled with arrows and turned into a pile of corpses in less than a minute.
Voren'thal didn't even blink, and three minutes later, the second squad of five hundred men began to teleport.
Kael'thas's forces number less than ten thousand; they too will tire and be wounded. But if they persevere, the Shattrath alliance will surely prevail.
Twenty teams of five hundred men each were teleported to Tempest Keep. The open space at the entrance of Tempest Keep was piled high with corpses and severed limbs.
Kael'thas watched in horror; his armor was stained crimson with blood, and the soldiers' arrows were nearly exhausted.
Voren'thal and Kael'thas exchanged a cruel smile, then waved their hands, and another group of five hundred men ascended the Altar.
Once Kael'thas's men are exhausted, Voren'thal will send in his elite troops, and victory will be upon him.
Thrall stood with his hands behind his back on the city wall of Pliers Town, watching Voren'thal's piecemeal tactics.
Eitrigg, standing to the side, frowned. "My Savior, the Blood Elves have too many mage troops."
Thrall's expression tightened, and he said coldly, "That's right, their ability to field so many mages poses a threat to us."
Eitrigg made a decapitation gesture and lowered his voice, "Why don't we just kill them all?"
Thrall's eyes darted around, and he said viciously, "Tolerance towards the enemy is cruelty to oneself. I won't have peace of mind until the Blood Elf mage army is destroyed."
Eitrigg chuckled and went to make the arrangements.
At the gates of Tempest Keep, after numerous Blood War, Kael'thas's men were finally exhausted.
Voren'thal laughed heartily, confident of victory, and was preparing to send out his elite troops.
Suddenly, the gates of Pliers Town burst open, and a large group of fully armed Orcs charged out, heading straight for the Altar.
The mage troops at the Altar had exhausted more than half of their mana and were all physically and mentally drained. They had no time to react when they saw the large group of Orcs charging towards them.
The Orcs surrounded the mage troops and hacked them to pieces, quickly turning them into mincemeat, and then destroyed the Altar.
"No!"
Voren'thal let out a desperate cry, then everything went black and he fainted.