Faced with this unknown and powerful being, Daelin had no intention of hiding anything; doing so would be pointless.
"That's right, I fear Dragonkin. Before Dragonkin, my fleet is nothing. Even those Whelps can easily destroy our capital ships. My son died from a Whelps, not to mention the adult Dragons. Our arrows can hardly penetrate their scales, and they also possess powerful magic."
Robbie smiled confidently, "Dragonkin magic is nothing. In ten thousand years, apart from a slight increase in Dragonkin and the Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza getting a little fatter, there haven't been any significant changes in the dragon race."
"A thousand years?"
Daelin keenly caught the word and secretly guessed Robbie's identity.
"I think you should understand Kul Tiras's predicament," Robbie analyzed calmly.
"Orcs are not good at naval warfare, Kul Tiras has a powerful navy that perfectly makes up for the Orcs' weakness. They could also consider the Zandalari Empire, but unfortunately, the Zandalar are protected by the Loa. As the saying goes, pick the weakest one."
Although unwilling, Daelin had to nod and admit that Robbie was right.
Robbie continued, "Jaina and Thrall have a special relationship. Don't misunderstand, I meant allies. If Kul Tiras can join forces with the Orcs, Thrall will definitely accept you."
"Impossible?" Daelin's expression hardened with rage as she declared resolutely, "We Kul Tiras would rather die than submit to the Orcs. As for Jaina, I'll make her understand sooner or later just how ruthless the Orcs truly are."
Robbie looked at Daelin Anjing, shook his head, and said:
"Your choice is meaningless. As long as the Dragonkin support the Orcs, the other races of Azeroth will flock to Orcs side, willingly becoming food and cannon fodder. Faced with this overwhelming trend, and with Thrall's Savior's choice, what can you do? Kul Tiras can only be destroyed."
Daelin's face was resolute, fierce, and domineering as she spoke in an uncompromising tone:
"At worst, I'll become Pirate. To be honest, after the tragedy at Highmountain, I foresaw the fall of the Kingdom of Kul Tiras. I've already signed orders to scatter our fleet across the seas. I will absolutely not leave our fleet to the Orcs. That's right, Kul Tiras is about to perish."
As expected of the Commander-in-Chief of the Navy, he had anticipated the next development of the situation and prepared accordingly.
Robbie sensed Daelin's determination, an unwavering conviction. It was precisely this kind of determination that the various races of Azeroth lacked; their anxieties and hesitations led to all sorts of tragedies.
"I'm very satisfied with your attitude." Robbie nodded and said, "I can give you a chance. Are you willing to fight those Dragonblood Orcs? Destroy them on the sea, and leave the Dragonkin to me."
"You're going to deal with the Dragonkin?" Daelin was clearly skeptical. "No, that's impossible. The Dragonkin have multiplied to a considerable number; the Red Dragon race alone exceeds ten thousand. How could one person possibly fight them off?"
For an ordinary race, a number of tens of thousands is nothing, but for the Dragonkin, it is quite terrifying. Tens of thousands of Dragons are definitely a world-destroying force.
"Who said I'm alone?" Robbie chuckled.
"Dragonkin fly differently from birds; they rely on magic to float in the air. I can interfere with their magic, causing them to lose their ability to fly. Once they fall into the sea, I believe you have a way to deal with them."
Daelin nodded and said confidently, "The ocean is my territory."
Robbie handed Daelin a Silver Necklace with an anchor-shaped pendant.
"This necklace is now bound to your fleet. You must wear it at all times for our tracking. Kul Tiras is a dead end; you have no choice but to trust me. There is still a glimmer of hope."
Daelin put the necklace around her neck; his Pirate habit made him extremely decisive and swift.
"Alright, I'll choose to believe you this once. At worst, we'll be consumed by the Flames of the Red Dragonflight. The Orcs are brutal and have slaughtered countless people. Someone in Azeroth has to stand up and fight back. The Kul Tiras are willing to shoulder this burden."
Archimonde Anjing watched the Orcs camp. Under the whips of the Burning Legion overseers, the Orcs laborers led by Saurfang were working diligently, preparing for the upcoming war against the Scourge.
As the days went by, Archimonde grew increasingly suspicious that his adversary was not Queen Azshara.
It's a feeling; everyone has their own style of doing things. Archimonde knew Queen Azshara very well; she was a competitive student who preferred head-on combat and never backed down, even when facing Titans.
Scheming and plotting behind the scenes—this isn't like the Queen Azshara we know.
"I've heard the Orcs have done a lot of bad things again," Archimonde asked.
Magnus quickly replied, "To gather military provisions and war supplies, the Dragonblood Orcs have killed hundreds of thousands of Highmountain Tauren and are now on their way to the Echo Isles."
"What a cruel race." Archimonde scoffed. "Although the Burning Legion has destroyed countless worlds, our killings are always purposeful, not indiscriminate slaughter. If it's just for military supplies, they could simply bow down and ask us for help. Why go to such lengths?"
Magnus brandished his fangs and said, "Probably out of Thrall's worthless pride."
Archimonde waved his hand dismissively, saying, "Forget it, since it's already happened, let it go. I've decided to accept the Darkspear Trolls' surrender. Thrall will lead the Dragonblood Orcs to accept the surrender."
Magnus glanced at his superior in surprise, but quickly realized that this was a test.
The Burning Legion needs obedient subordinates, not indiscriminate Butchers. We'll see if Thrall can suppress his hatred and treat the Darkspear Tribe as equals.
When Thrall received Archimonde's order, he was eating a Highmountain Tauren.
Spitting out the roasted beef, Thrall ended the Tauren's life with a single blow. Unlike usual, Thrall did not fly into a rage; instead, he fell into calm contemplation.
"Eitrigg, what are your thoughts on this?"
The life consultant Eitrigg, cautiously replied, "Archimonde's orders are suspicious; I think we should take them seriously."
Thrall slammed his fist on the table. "The Darkspear Tribe has toyed with us Orcs. If we reconcile with Sen'jin, how will we Orcs stand on Azeroth? Who will be willing to become our food?"
After venting his anger, Thrall sighed helplessly, "Fine, we must obey Archimonde's orders, but I need to vent my anger. By the way, what's been happening in Kul Tiras lately?"
During the Second War, Kul Tiras was an enemy of the Orcs.
Thrall has always kept this in mind; it's an old score that must be settled.
"I heard their fleet is preparing to leave port," Eitrigg said.
Thrall turned pale with fright. If it were a naval battle with the Kul Tiras navy, as long as the enemy didn't foolishly engage in boarding action but instead used cannons to bombard from a distance, the Dragonblood Orcs would have no chance of winning.
Seeing that Thrall had misunderstood, Eitrigg quickly added:
"According to reliable intelligence, Kul Tiras intends to scatter the fleet; their goal is to escape."
"I see." Thrall breathed a sigh of relief, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "Change course. We're going to Kul Tiras to slaughter these human cowards."