Ruins of the Temple of Ahn'Qiraj.
"You deserve to die!" Alexstrasza was in a somewhat sorry state. Her powerful vitality ensured her survival, but Hela, who wielded both Death Energy and magic, was fundamentally incompatible with her. As a result, her wounds required far more power to heal.
She could endure it, but the red dragons under her command could not. Though dragons were an exceptionally powerful race on this planet—perhaps even one of the strongest races alive—they still found it difficult to resist the endless, nearly unkillable undead soldiers.
After suffering losses, the red dragons of the Red Dragonflight no longer dared descend. They feared ending up like their unlucky companions: bound directly by Dark Lassos, dragged from the sky by hordes of undead working together, then swallowed by the Undead Tide.
To the red dragons in the sky, the sight was like a vast swarm of army ants sweeping away every living thing in its path. It was terrifying. By now, the Red Dragonflight had lost nearly a quarter of its numbers.
But even the skies were not absolutely safe.
The Undead Army clearly had specialized Anti-Air Units. They rode rotten magic ships and brandished weapons as they approached the red dragons flying overhead. Others rode winged Necrotic Pegasi, maneuvering nimbly through the sky as they harassed and battled them.
Often, twenty or thirty Undead Sky Knights working together could restrain—or even hunt—a red dragon. And these Undead Sky Knights were now flying out from the wormhole's pillar of light just like the Undead Army occupying the ground, densely filling the skies.
Within this Undead Tide, the red dragons of the Red Dragonflight were like reefs in the ocean, appearing and disappearing amid the waves. From time to time, a dragon would fall from the sky, its blood