At the center of the battlefield, Grommash Hellscream seemed to hear some invisible summons. He abruptly stopped his pursuit, his massive body slowly straightening. Black mist as thick as ink seeped through the gaps in his ice-sealed armor. Scarlet blood energy mingled with that darkness, looking exactly like the slowly spinning black vortex high in the sky.
His red eyes, burning with the will to fight, settled on Alleria one last time-the Ranger-General in the distance, her bow drawn into a full moon, a cold gleam capable of tearing souls apart gathering at her arrowhead.
"Our battle... isn't over yet."
His low voice seemed to rise from beneath the earth, carrying defiance and some deeper meaning. The next instant, his body became a streak of blood-red light that shot into the sky and vanished into the shattered heavens.
He left behind only scattered ice and scorched earth, a group of elf warriors standing frozen in place, and a handful of surviving orc cavalry, all barely clinging to life.
Alleria slowly lowered her Longbow, her fingers trembling slightly from the prolonged strain. Her gaze followed the fading blood-red light. The black vortex in the sky was slowly closing, as though everything that had just happened had been an illusion.
"Has a new storm... already arrived?" she murmured, her right hand unconsciously tightening around the silver Windrunner family crest at her chest.
Grommash Hellscream's departure severed the orc soldiers' backbone like a dull blade. Those who had still been roaring, swinging axes, and charging suddenly lost every shred of fighting spirit. Weapons slipped from their hands and struck the mud with dull thuds. No one spoke. No one even roared or wailed-they simply stood there, dazed, like shells whose souls had been torn away.
In this battle, they had faced the devastating