The Archmage's Portal opened, and short Frost Dwarves emerged one after another, weapons in hand and murder in their eyes.
The arrival of these fresh troops let Rex breathe a quiet sigh of relief. The precarious situation immediately stabilized.
These undead Iron Dwarves had been able to fight the Frost Dwarves while alive, but being turned into undead had weakened them. They were no longer a match for the Frost Dwarves, who cut them down one after another.
The Frost Dwarves showed no mercy as they slaughtered the undead Iron Dwarves. On the contrary, they fought with boundless vigor, relishing the slaughter. To these Frost Dwarves, the Iron Dwarves remained their enemies even in death, and they would never let them go. The two sides could not coexist.
Dar'Khan watched the battlefield ahead, a vicious gleam in his eyes. Looking at Rex's fighting figure, he said in a low voice, "Let's see how you escape this time, Rex."
His gaze moved away from Rex and finally settled on the Frost Dwarves pouring out. "Where the hell did these little runts come from?" he snarled.
No one could answer Dar'Khan's question. From his angle, he had not seen the Portal appear at all. He had sensed the fluctuation of magic, but he had paid little attention to it. Where was he? On a battlefield. Fluctuations of magic were perfectly normal here.
It was precisely this oversight that had kept him from recognizing the Portal.
"I'll wipe out every last one of these runts!" Watching the Dwarves stand in his way, Dar'Khan burned with fury, and the desire to exterminate them began to dominate his thoughts. Had these been the Dwarves of Ironforge in the Eastern Kingdoms, he would never have entertained such an unrealistic idea. But things were different in Northrend.