Plan Begins, the Dark Iron Dwarves

Several days had passed since Rend finished discussing matters with the young red dragon Vaelastrasz. During that time, Rend had been waiting—on one hand, allowing the young red dragon to recover and lessen the Blackrock warlocks' suppression over him; on the other, waiting for the right moment.

At last, that day arrived.

"Chief Rend, the Dark Iron Dwarves refuse to accept their defeat. They've come back, and Dagran Thaurissan has specifically challenged you to a duel." At the start of the previous battle, the Dark Iron Dwarves had held the advantage and even succeeded in killing the enemy leader, Maim Blackhand. Unexpectedly, they had been driven back by the Blackrock Clan's desperate counterattack. Now that the fervor of that desperate charge had passed, the Dwarven king had once again led his troops here, sworn to reclaim Blackrock Spire.

"Let those damned Dark Iron runts strut around for a while. Pretend we can't hold them off, then lure the dragonkin legion over." Although Rend had never even met Maim, the emotions left behind in his memories still filled him with hatred for the Dark Iron Dwarves. Even though they were the invaders, this was Azeroth—far more real. When there was no greater enemy, both sides fought to the death. Yet when a powerful foe appeared, they would tacitly join forces to eliminate the stronger enemy first, then settle matters between themselves afterward. Perhaps one day, the Dark Iron Dwarves might become friends of Blackrock as well. Who could predict such a thing?

Following Rend's orders, the Blackrock Clan Orc warriors, long prepared for the performance, began to collapse. Though it was supposed to be an act, the rout soon became real. King Dagran Thaurissan watched the nearly broken Blackrock Orcs with delight. Although he also felt that his old rivals' combat strength was abnormal, the rout was genuine. Were those Blackrock Orcs not throwing away their weapons, clutching their heads, and fleeing? They were even shoving one another aside to run faster. Such a heaven-sent opportunity could not be missed, so the Dark Iron Dwarves charged after them wildly on their short little legs.

When Rend heard that the army's fake rout had turned into a real one and that they were being hunted down by the Dark Iron Dwarves, his heart ached terribly. This was not part of the plan. The losses from being chased down by those damned Dwarven runts were all his clansmen. The Blackrock Orcs' organizational discipline definitely needed proper training now. Forget it—he would make the best of the mistake. He hurriedly sent someone to notify Wyrmthalak, the Black Dragonflight commander in the lower level.

"I knew you lowly Orcs were a bunch of trash. I didn't expect you to be this useless. Where's that fool Vaur? Have him lead the Forest Trolls with me to drive those black Dwarves back." Cursing the worthless Blackrock Clan all the while, Wyrmthalak led the Ogres and Forest Trolls to reinforce them.

The Blackrock Clan's defeat that Wyrmthalak saw was a genuine rout. He could not see even the slightest trace of deception, so he believed it and immediately commanded the Black Dragonflight to charge forward.

"Vaur, Omokk, you two idiots! Why aren't you hurrying up and stopping those Dwarven commanders?" Only after Wyrmthalak saw that his Black Dragonflight was the only force charging forward did he realize something was wrong.

"Die, you damned dragonkin! Anyone who dares withhold this lord's food must die!" Omokk instantly flew into a rage and smashed his massive hammer into the dragonkin's head. Though Wyrmthalak was far stronger than Omokk, King Omokk was even stronger than the dragonkin commander in raw strength. The blow left Wyrmthalak reeling.

"Now tell me, who's the useless one, Wyrmthalak?" Vaur leaped up and brought his axe down upon Wyrmthalak's ugly dragonkin head. A classic bit of mischief—but Vaur was not Grommash, and his axe was not Gorehowl. Still, Wyrmthalak was not Mannoroth either. One swing split the dragonkin's skull open and spilled his brains.

The foul-mouthed Wyrmthalak ultimately died at the hands of the two subordinates he had looked down upon, ambushed in a humiliating death. Otherwise, the two of them could never have killed the powerful Wyrmthalak so easily.

"General Drakkisath, Wyrmthalak has been defeated by the Dark Iron Dwarves. That damned Firelord Ragnaros has made his move. He sent two of his barons to ambush the great dragonkin general. We can't hold them back. General, please help us." Following the plan, Malkorok sought General Drakkisath's aid, hoping he would lead the dragonkin army against the Dark Iron Dwarves. Ideally, both sides would fight until they were mutually devastated.

Although General Drakkisath was not only the strongest of all dragonkin but also much smarter than the rest, he felt the death of his old friend through their bloodline. Like Nefarian, he also placed excessive trust in the Blackrock Clan's loyalty. It was not the first or second time the Firelord had sent his subordinates to aid in a counterattack. At critical moments, General Drakkisath had always led the elite Black Dragonflight to drive them back.

The mighty legion of ten thousand dragonkin, nearly all of them deployed, rushed toward the lower level of Blackrock Spire under General Drakkisath's command, sworn to teach the Dark Iron Dwarves and Ragnaros's servants a lesson.

"The second step of the plan is complete. Leave the third step to me." Rend went to carry out the most critical third part of the plan himself. Only he could execute it, and it was also the most dangerous step.

"Cunning Black Dragonflight, I swear I'll wipe every last one of you out!" The young red dragon Vaelastrasz broke free in fury. At Rend's signal, the Blackrock warlocks helped the young red dragon regain half his strength and escape his restraints.

"Master, the young red dragon has escaped. While our legion was fighting the Dark Iron Dwarves, he wounded my warlocks. We cannot subdue him. I beg you, Master, please act." Rend feigned humility as he asked the Black Dragon Prince Nefarian to deal with the young red dragon.

Nefarian found not a trace of a flaw in Rend's superb performance and trusted this puppet as he always had. Though his charm magic was not as powerful as his sister's, controlling Rend had been effortless.

"Young red dragon, you still haven't learned your lesson. See clearly the gap between us." "Young red dragon" was actually Nefarian's contemptuous nickname for Vaelastrasz. They were of the same generation and not far apart in age, but the Black Dragon Prince had never thought highly of Vaelastrasz, whether in strength or intelligence.

Nefarian did not even need to transform into his black dragon form. With a raised hand, his magic turned into shackles and restrained Vaelastrasz.

"Nefarian, I admit that you are the strongest of our generation. I am no match for you. But Nefarian, blind arrogance is your weakness." Although Vaelastrasz had been restrained, he spoke to Nefarian calmly, without his usual bluster.

At that moment, Rend, standing behind Nefarian, swiftly thrust his two-handed sword toward the unguarded Black Dragon Prince's heart. If that blow landed and pierced his heart, even someone as powerful as Nefarian would die with regret.

Nefarian had never expected his most trusted servant to betray him, but his immense strength allowed him to react swiftly. He avoided the vital strike to his heart, but other organs were still cut. Rend truly lived up to the Blackhand name—his black hand turned the stab into a slash, twisting the blade inside the Black Dragon Prince's body and lacerating many of his internal organs.