The Ghouls grew to enormous sizes, reaching over three meters in height. Their once skeletal bodies were now covered in thick bone plates, like armor. Their claws gleamed with a metallic sheen, sending chills down one's spine.
Is this still Ghoul? Sylvanas felt a chill run down her spine, but her fearful and innocent gaze, like that of a small animal, remained unchanged.
The Scourge's Abominations, used for assaults, are covered in a thick layer of grease, and they have learned magic, enabling them to protect themselves with magical shields. Death Knights, Gargoyles, Undead Mage, and other units have also undergone significant changes.
"Anub'arak, what's going on?" Sylvanas asked the Crypt Lord. In her opinion, Kel'Thuzad was cunning and wouldn't tell the truth, while Anub'arak seemed like a simple-minded fellow who would be easy to get the truth out of.
"This is evolution and mutation," Anub'arak said, shaking his head. "Our Scourge has made great sacrifices to finally allow our race to evolve, just like you High Elves, whose waists are getting thinner and whose eyes are getting bigger."
Damn evolution and mutation, how could Sylvanas believe such nonsense?
During the life-or-death battle against the Burning Legion, Arthas, as its leader, was nowhere to be seen, nor was his Frostmourne on the Battlefield, clearly indicating that he was plotting something behind the scenes.
Kel'Thuzad surveyed the new generation of Scourge soldiers and asked, "Sylvanas, how do our soldiers compare to the Burning Legion?"
Sylvanas hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "We still can't beat them."
Kel'Thuzad nodded. "That's right, our soldiers are still no match for the Burning Legion, but evolution and mutation are endless. This is just the Model One; there will be Model Two, a third, and so on. Evolution has no end. The Scourge will surely crush the Burning Legion under its feet. Begin the battle, Sylvanas."
Archimonde did not personally lead the battle, but remained stationed at the rear of Dalaran.
The latest battle reports kept coming in, showing the Burning Legion's impressive record of eliminating hundreds of thousands or even millions of Scourge soldiers every day. The results were truly glorious.
Archimonde was smug, feeling he didn't need to personally intervene; he could simply wait for Frostmourne to be delivered to him.
The war had lasted for nearly a month, Archimonde sensed something was wrong. How many soldiers did the Scourge actually have? They had killed more than 20 million in this month, so why wasn't the war over yet?
Although Lordaeron is the most powerful human kingdom, its population is only a few million. Even if they were all turned into soldiers of the Scourge, the number still wouldn't add up.
The Burning Legion's military discipline is extremely strict, and Archimonde believes that the generals at the front would not dare to falsify military intelligence.
At the beginning of the battle, the Burning Legion suffered single-digit casualties, but after more than twenty days, the number of casualties was in the thousands every day, which was a terrifying figure.
Filled with doubt, Archimonde decided to go to the front lines and see for himself.
Archimonde stepped out of the Legion Portal and was startled to see Mannoroth coming to greet him.
Mannoroth was once a massive Pit Lord, but now he was so thin he was just a skeleton, resembling Undead creature. He had huge dark circles under his eyes, sunken eye sockets, a haggard face, and a listless spirit.
"Lord Archimonde, you've finally arrived!" Mannoroth grabbed Archimonde's leg and burst into tears.
"What happened? How did you end up like this?" Archimonde asked in surprise.
"I haven't slept for a month. It's a battle, a relentless battle, never-ending, never-ending."
Mannoroth wiped away his tears, weeping bitterly. Suddenly, a mound of earth rose up from the ground nearby, and a large group of Ghouls crawled out, screaming as they pounced on Mannoroth.
"Here it comes again, here it comes again, I really can't take it anymore."
Mannoroth raised his claws and crushed the overconfident Ghouls. Then, magical light flashed, and dozens of Abominations teleported to a nearby open space, brandishing chains and attacking Archimonde and Mannoroth.
Archimonde extended his right hand, gently clenched it, and dozens of Abominations turned to ashes.
"Mannoroth, don't worry, leave it to me now. Let the Scourge tremble before me!"
At that moment, Sylvanas and Kel'Thuzad were leading a new generation of Undead soldiers in a great battle against the Burning Legion. The Burning Legion was already exhausted, and many of the Legion soldiers suddenly collapsed to the ground during the fighting, never to get up again.
The new generation of Undead soldiers were quite capable, managing to hold the line and avoid being wiped out by the Legion in a single encounter. Archimonde arrived on the Battlefield, his massive body standing tall, his Fel Fire blazing, visible from afar, greatly boosting the morale of the Legion's soldiers, who quickly advanced a significant distance.
"Where is Arthas?" Archimonde shouted. He had no intention of wasting time with a bunch of cannon fodder. To catch the thief, you must first catch the king. Once Arthas was captured, no matter how many Scourge soldiers there were, they would be useless.
Mannoroth quickly replied, "Arthas hasn't shown up yet. The Scourge are taking turns fighting; now it's Sylvanas and Kel'Thuzad."
"They're just two small fry, let's start by taking them out and teaching the Scourge a lesson."
Archimonde's gaze swept across the Battlefield, quickly landing on Sylvanas, clad in full armor and possessing a curvaceous figure, and Kel'Thuzad, dressed in a black robe, both standing on a high hill directing the battle.
Sylvanas had a serious expression, constantly issuing orders and occasionally yelling; she had a rather fiery temper.
Kel'Thuzad lowered his head and remained silent, sketching and calculating on the paper, assessing the combat capabilities of the new generation of Scourge soldiers.
Archimonde was about to take action himself when Mannoroth stopped him.
"Lord Archimonde, over the past month, I have repeatedly gathered elite troops to try and capture their commander, but all my attempts have failed. The Scourge possesses sophisticated disguise magic; what we see is merely an illusion."
"An illusion? What illusion could possibly fool my eyes?" Archimonde was skeptical. He carefully examined the two men on the hillside but found no flaws.
"It really is an illusion, my lord." Mannoroth, worried that Archimonde would make things difficult for him if his attack failed, tried his best to stop him. "My lord, I swear on my life, this Scourge is not simple."
Archimonde frowned upon hearing this, then smiled broadly, "Interesting. As expected of the Power of Death I've been seeking. It seems Arthas has found a way to utilize Power of Death. I'm becoming increasingly interested; this is precisely the power I need."
"My lord, what should we do now? Our soldiers are exhausted and could collapse at any moment," Mannoroth asked.
Archimonde hesitated for a moment, feeling helpless in the face of this situation.
"A temporary retreat back to Dalaran. All we need to do is deploy the Legion's Magic Shield, and the Scourge will be powerless against us. Our soldiers can also get some rest. We, the Burning Legion, have destroyed countless worlds, not by our own strength. It seems we'll have to ask for help again. What a dilemma," Archimonde said with a look of melancholy.
Mannoroth breathed a sigh of relief. He had been waiting for this order for a long time, but retreats were rare in the Legion operations, and Mannoroth dared not act on his own initiative.