A Wanderer Need Only Call, and Home Will Stride Toward You

Time passed, second by second.

The dawn that had seemed so distant it would never arrive finally came.

Ten minutes before dawn, starships from the Lightforged Fleet and the Restoration Army fleet filled the ether-laden depths of space throughout the Azeroth Starfield, especially along the orbits near Azeroth and Draenor.

Even the Orcs had brought out the two hunter ships they had captured with the Illidari's help.

Fortunately, the Mag'har had few warriors. Even with the vast armies of Arakkoa, Spriggans, and tauren, the two hunter ships were more than enough to carry them all. The only problem was that Little Hellscream, who had only been named "Khan of the Mag'har" a few days ago, did not quite trust his good brother's skill at "flying a ship."

"Can you even handle this?"

In the command room of the hunter ship Hellscream, Little Hellscream watched Yorin Deadeye anxiously as he bustled around the control console.

More precisely, the Khan's unease came from the fact that Yorin had to consult the notes he had taken while learning to pilot starships under the Demon Hunters before he could issue one command after another.

Wasn't that the very definition of a half-baked amateur?

If Little Hellscream had been the only one aboard, he would not have minded taking a spontaneous, life-risking voyage through the stars with his good brother. But this ship was now loaded with every elite warrior in the Mag'har Orc nation. If something went wrong during landing, Orc civilization would truly be finished.

"Shut up! Stop distracting me while I pilot this starship! Keep babbling nonsense, and if something goes wrong, it'll be on you!"

Yorin Deadeye was under enormous pressure too.

Even if he was one of the finest "wise men" among the Orcs and had interned aboard Illidari hunter