The Battle of the Black Temple (3) - Thanks for the Monthly Votes

High Warlord Naj'entus, possessing a bizarre body composed of Naga and a conch shell, is the commander of the first line of defense of the Black Temple.

Naj'entus himself is not very strong; his strength lies in commanding the Naga forces, and the conch shell on his right arm can boost the morale of the Naga.

The Naga, bred by Vashj using Hydra eggs at Coilfang Reservoir, are inherently low in intelligence but have the advantage of sheer numbers, and are intended to be used as Cannon Fodder Troops.

Who would have thought that the number of cannon fodder would be far less than that of the enemy?

Driven into a frenzy, the Orcs, their eyes bloodshot, howled and shoved each other as they swarmed into the sewers of the Black Temple.

The Black Temple, originally Karabor Temple of Karabor, was a sacred site for the Draenei.

The sewer system is an absolute masterpiece, allowing multiple adult Gronn to pass side by side without any obstruction.

The clear, melodious sound of a conch shell echoed from the empty sewers.

Countless Naga awoke from the deep caves of Coilfang Reservoir, crossed the Portal, and appeared beside Naj'entus.

Naj'entus didn't offer many words of encouragement; when he blew the conch shell, it was the start of the Charge.

The surging Naga forces clashed directly with the endless Orcs.

Compared to the unarmed Orcs, the Naga have a very clear advantage.

Naga possess sturdy scales, which serve as their natural armor.

Naga have four arms, some wield multiple javelins, others carry various curved swords, and a few are Naga mages who wield staffs.

But the Orcs had the advantage of sheer numbers.

After cutting down dozens of Orcs, the Naga will be exhausted, their weapons will be dulled, and their javelins will be depleted. Then the Orcs will be victorious.

Both sides were equally high-spirited, oblivious to the meaning of death; when their comrades fell, those behind immediately filled in.

The corpses piled up in layers, and the soldiers behind them bravely charged forward, stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades, only to soon become corpses themselves.

Naj'entus had experienced countless battles in his long life, but he had never witnessed such a horrific scene.

Both sides were bloodthirsty, and the corpses were mixed together, trampled by the soldiers, and turned into mud.

Soldiers were forced to fight to the death in a sea of blood that could drown them.

Even the Draenei's conscientious sewer system couldn't withstand this test and became clogged.

The battle lasted for three days and three nights, after which the Orcs soldiers discovered they could no longer access the sewers.

It was filled with corpses.

At the Sha'tar Altar, Velen looked displeased to see the Orcs had ceased their attack.

"The sewers are clogged with corpses? How could this happen? The sewers we Draenei build are very reliable."

"My Prophet, millions of Orcs have already been thrown into the sewers," the Orcs messenger said proudly. "Only the great Orcs could be so valiant."

Velen touched his nose, unsure of what to do.

Rakeesh, who was used to this, laughed and said:

"I have seen this many times. During the Burning Legion's expedition, the enemy was never lacking in courage, but what good was it? Courage cannot compensate for a lack of intelligence and wisdom."

Beside him, several Legion soldiers carried out a large green barrel, as tall as a person.

Rakeesh's face contorted with rage as he said, "The Blood-Melting Potion dissolves upon contact with blood; even bones will turn into blood. A mountain of corpses only needs one bucket. Corpses should not be an obstacle to the Orcs' advance. Go! The Orcs must join the battle as soon as possible."

After the Blood-Melting Potion was thrown into the sewers, the Cannon Fodder Troops of both sides once again engaged in fierce fighting.

In Shadowmoon Village, Thrall had never felt so exhilarated. Faced with so many sacrifices, he remarked to those around him:

"From a young age, I was immersed in literature in Karazhan. The ancient texts described war as the greatest tragedy in the world, the deaths of soldiers on both sides a tragic crystallization of blood, tears, and resentment. But we Orcs have completely overturned the ancients' views. Look at our soldiers, all of them facing death with smiles. They joyfully and generously go to their deaths, eagerly sacrificing their lives. It was I, the great Savior Thrall, who created this opportunity for them to gain this glory, and they have every right to thank me."

"Thank you, great Savior Thrall!" Eitrigg led the shout.

"Thank you, great Savior Thrall!" all the Orcs in Shadowmoon Village shouted in unison.

The praise spread like Plague, and soon, Orcs throughout Shadowmoon Valley were chanting in unison:

"Thank you, great Savior Thrall."

The thunderous praise for Thrall reached the Black Temple, and Illidan and his generals looked extremely displeased.

Duchess Malande approached Illidan with a sorrowful expression:

"My lord, the Naga forces have been almost completely wiped out. Naj'entus has successfully retreated through the prepared Portal, and the Orcs are attacking the main hall plaza."

Illidan opened his eyes and said wearily, "Naj'entus has done his job well. Hopefully, Supremus can buy us some time."

After a pause, Illidan earnestly instructed:

"Although Supremus was created by Magtheridon, I was the one who awakened him; he is like my child. He can fall, but the core of the Infernal cannot be left to the Orcs."

Duchess Malande replied solemnly, "Yes, Lord Illidan, I will arrange everything."

Supremus was ten times the size of a normal Infernal.

When the Orcs emerged from the sewers and arrived at the main hall square of the Black Temple, they were already engulfed in raging flames.

Orgrimmar, the luxurious mansion of Saurfang the Great.

With the doors and windows tightly shut, Saurfang the Great paced anxiously back and forth.

Outside the door, the soldiers Thrall Faction kept urging them on loudly:

"Warchief Saurfang the Great, you are our revered idol, the symbol of the Horde's glory. Warchief Thrall commands you to lead your troops to attack the Black Temple and behead Illidan. You will be the one to achieve this. If you disobey this order, your head will be chopped off and displayed at the gates of Orgrimmar City. You will be infamous for eternity and regarded as a coward by future Orcs."

After several days of Battle of the Black Temple, Thrall issued twelve warchief commands in succession.

"This is sending me to my death!" Saurfang cried out in anguish, knowing Thrall's scheme; once inside the Black Temple, there was no return.

The soldier shouted in a high-pitched voice:

"Millions of Orcs have bravely fallen in the Black Temple, sacrificing their precious lives for the great Savior. Their sacrifice inspires the Orcs to advance. Saurfang the Great, I truly do not understand why you would refuse this great honor. We eagerly await your glorious death in the Black Temple; it is the true final resting place for a Veteran."

"Damn it, is there no need to hide it anymore?"

Saurfang was furious. Although he was getting on in years, he still had plenty of time to enjoy life.

He had countless beautiful wives and concubines, and mountains of delicious food and wine. He could enjoy everything that his senses could experience.

Saurfang the Great was not about to give up; he was not a foolish Cannon Fodder Troops.

Dranosh Saurfang entered through the back door, not even having time to remove his disguise, and knelt before his father:

"Father, I have fulfilled my mission; I have met Lord Mannoroth."

Saurfang the Great hurriedly asked, "What did Lord Mannoroth say?"

Dranosh whispered, "Lord Mannoroth has accepted your gift and promised to provide us with shelter, but on one condition."

Saurfang the Great took a deep breath. "As long as I don't go to the Black Temple to my death, I'll agree to any condition."