Ancient Train King and the Orc's Leap

Brox had lost count of how many times he had raised his axe and brought it down on the demon before him.

Around the Orc warrior, the bodies of slain demons were piled high.

The shore of the Well of Eternity had become a battlefield, a brutal, relentless siege raging on.

Not far from him, the elven mage named Elisande was guiding a sweeping Flame Storm with one hand while flicking out Arcane Barrages with the other, picking off any stragglers that came too close.

As for the Divine Lord, he was currently hammering Mannoroth the Destructor and his Pit Lord legion, forcing the hulking, vicious demons to retreat step by step under the weight of his divine power.

Above the Well of Eternity, three circling red dragons carrying Krasus and his two companions dove sharply, heading straight for the Dragon Soul.

But they failed, because another uninvited guest made a forceful entrance.

A thunderous roar, laced with an overwhelming pressure, rang out from the sky. Neltharion, the Black Dragon Aspect, burst through the clouds, flapping his massive wings armored in elementium, and hurtled toward the Dragon Soul below.

At the same time, the other four Dragon Aspects—save for the still-missing Nozdormu, the Dragon King of Time—arrived at the Well of Eternity with their elite kin.

Glancing up at the diving Black Dragon King, Hu En let out a few chuckles. So the Earth-Warder had come after all.

But now, it was more fitting to call him Deathwing.

The other four dragons stared in shock at Neltharion. His eyes were wild with madness, his focus locked solely on the Dragon Soul below. He didn't spare a single glance at his fellow dragonkind.

Several blue dragons blocked Neltharion's path, trying to question him. Neltharion grabbed them, yanked hard, and tore them in two. Their innards spilled out.

"No one can take my treasure! The Dragon Soul belongs to me alone!"

Neltharion roared in frenzy, then cast a barely perceptible glance at the Titan Divine Lord below, who was still pounding the Pit Lords—those bloated fiends of Fel energy. Seeing no sign of interference, he felt a flicker of relief.

Then the Black Dragon King slammed his massive body into the magical barrier protecting the Dragon Soul.

His armor cracked. Flames and magma erupted from the wounds. The entire dragon was a sight of raw, visceral power.

Neltharion had gone mad.

At that moment, an overwhelming pressure radiated from the Fel Portal by the Well, followed by a furious roar.

"Wretched insect, you dare to hinder my arrival in this world?"

A beam of Fel Flame shot from the portal, striking Neltharion squarely and sending him hurtling backward.

But moments later, Neltharion flew back in a rage, slamming into the barrier with even greater frenzy.

"No one! Can! Take! My artifact!"

The Black Dragon King, lost in utter madness, radiated an unmatched aura. Everyone present was stunned by his sheer insanity.

On the other side of the portal, Sargeras was livid. He had yet to set foot on Azeroth, and the small bursts of energy slipping through the portal could only do so much against that lowly, oversized reptile—enough for it to endure many hits.

Krasus and his two companions circled high above on their red dragons, waiting for their chance.

Neltharion, that mad dragon, had unwittingly taken on the role of a suicide vanguard. Once he broke through the Fel barrier protecting the Dragon Soul, the three of them would snatch it from under his nose.

Just then, two beams of Fel Eye Beam shot from one side of the palace, striking a Pit Lord square in the chest and punching clean through it.

Illidan and Tyrande had arrived, joining the fray.

The main battlefield was growing livelier by the moment.

On the other side of the palace, a deafening explosion rang out, and a section of wall collapsed.

Hu En Highmountain, the Tauren, emerged from the dust, swinging his Eagle Spear in rapid strokes as he chased down a pack of fleeing Felhounds. Behind him trailed a long line of ferocious Demon Guards, their Fel Fire axes raised high, trying to hack the beef-man... ahem, the Tauren, to pieces.

Congratulations to Hu En on earning the achievement: [Ancient Train King]

This hero of the War of the Ancients would never know that, in the distant future, a certain legendary dwarf would pick up his fearless, reckless banner and carry it even further.

As the Tauren Hu En led his train of demons farther away, the focus returned to the main battlefield on the shore of the Well of Eternity.

The situation had devolved into a chaotic mess.

The Titan Divine Lord was slaughtering the elite demons surrounding him, though the carnage slowed his advance.

The demons had realized just how fearsome this mysterious powerhouse was, so they opted for a swarm tactic against Hu Feng, buying time for the Supreme Divine Lord's arrival.

Neltharion kept slamming into the crumbling Fel barrier, drawing closer and closer to the Dragon Soul, while Krasus and his two companions waited anxiously.

On the ground, Elisande and the others, along with the Dragon Aspects Legion in the sky, fought desperately, overwhelmed and stretched thin.

But time was running out.

Brox cleaved down a demon before him, then looked up at the Fel Fire Portal by the Well.

On the other side, that colossal figure was drawing nearer to this world.

Sargeras was about to descend.

A sudden clarity filled the Orc's mind. He resolved to do something unprecedented.

This... this would be his final moment.

To fight for glory, to seek an honorable death, and now, for Azeroth...

The Orc warrior ran to his dragon mount, swung himself onto its back, and urged it into the air, flying toward the Well of Eternity.

"It has been an honor fighting alongside you. Farewell!"

The Orc's roar echoed through the air.

"What are you doing? Brox, come back!"

Malfurion, who had just reunited with Illidan and Tyrande, looked at the Orc warrior riding away on the dragon and shouted.

Then, everyone present witnessed a scene passed down for ten thousand years.

The Orc warrior Brox leaped, jumping straight into the Fel Fire Portal.

He went to the demon world on the other side.

Brox saw a shattered world completely corrupted and fallen by Fel Energy.

Argus.

This was the lair of the Burning Legion, where an endless army stood ready at "Antorus, the Burning Throne," passing through portals to burn one world after another.

Compared to the number of demons here, the demon army that had already reached the World of Azeroth was just the tip of the iceberg, utterly insignificant.

The Orc warrior tightened his grip on his two battle-axes and let out a hearty laugh.

He suddenly cleaved a Demon Guard charging at him in two, kicked the corpse aside, then looked ahead at the demon army, with the portal to the World of Azeroth firmly guarded behind him.

"I! Am Brox Saurfang!"

A horde of demons swarmed in, and the Orc warrior swung his axes, stirring up a Whirlwind.

"I am a warrior of the Ragefire Clan! The blood brother of King Saurfang! The champion of Warchief Thrall!"

Demon corpses piled up like a mountain. The Orc warrior was covered in wounds, blood already coating his green skin.

Then the Orc looked up and saw the towering giant.

Sargeras was perfect and evil, with faint traces of the supreme glory he once held as a Titan of the Pantheon.

The Orc warrior launched his final assault, throwing his battle-axe with all his might toward Sargeras.

"Feel the power of the Horde, demon!"

"Lok-tar ogar!"

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