The Remaining Enemies

"It's truly a fortified fortress," Turalyon exclaimed.

Now, he, Khadgar, Kurdran, and Danas are sitting in the meeting hall discussing the Gryphon Rider's report.

"The walkways along the wall alone could easily accommodate dozens of Orcs. And there are some watchtowers here," Kurdran pointed to several locations on the map. "Ground forces should launch their attack from this area. It's relatively weak there, and there are some blind spots where we can take cover from arrows."

"Excellent!" Turalyon said. "We can also attack from both sides, taking them by surprise. Surround them and don't give them a chance to escape. After that, regroup and kill the Orcs who are still fighting."

"We will attack from above," Kurdran pointed out. "Let them keep dealing with us."

But Khadgar shook his head and said, "Don't forget they have the help of the black dragons. Those black figures are still circling above the fortress."

But Kurdran smiled. "Ah, yes, but not many. We'll take them all before you even blink."

Turalyon couldn't help but smile at the Wildhammer Dwarf's confidence, saying, "Nevertheless, we should still be careful. Besides, fighting the black dragons isn't just the Gryphon Rider's job; we have to do something too." Turalyon looked at Khadgar, "Can you restrain them?"

"Of course," Khadgar replied. His gaze swept over Kurdran, and he said, "I can give your Gryphon more advantages, while also providing assistance to the soldiers."

Turalyon nodded. The plan was gradually taking shape.

Danas will lead the initial Charge to lure the enemy in. Once the Horde army engages, Turalyon will bring the main force to attack. The Orcs will outnumber Danas and his soldiers significantly, but this situation won't last long. The question then becomes how to survive.

"That period will be a tremendous test," Turalyon told Danas in advance.

Danas's resolute eyes were fixed on his superior. "My soldiers and I trust you, General. We will not fall before those green-skinned bastards."

After listening, Turalyon's expression gradually became serious, and finally he asked, "Have you...?"

Danas ignored him and said, "I have no last wishes." Turalyon shuddered. "I don't need such things. Because one day in the future, I will take my soldiers home with me."

Turalyon grasped his adjutant's shoulder and nodded. He believed that Danas could hold off the Orcs until the Alliance Expedition's storm-like second wave utterly destroyed them.

Kurdran and his Gryphon Rider, along with Khadgar and the other mages, would be part of this storm. Turalyon looked at the old mage; the two had fought side by side all along. It felt strange for him if Khadgar wasn't by his side. But if all went well, they would still celebrate their great victory together.

Now, in the biting cold before dawn, they began their operation. Danas's forces moved about nearby, shouting and attacking the enemy from behind on horseback, drawing the Orcs' attention. Turalyon's forces, on the other hand, moved cautiously and silently to another location, the darkness of night concealing their presence.

He gazed at the fortress ahead, at its winding, sturdy outer walls. At intervals, a dimly burning brazier sat atop the wall. In the flickering firelight, the jagged, irregularly shaped stone spikes that adorned the fortress were faintly visible.

Turalyon raised his warhammer. "May the Holy Light grant us strength," he said quietly, as the warhammer in his hand began to glow, energy surging from within. "May it guide us in battle, lead us to victory, and let all witness that moment."

The soldiers rushed towards the outer wall. The fortress was looming ahead of them, growing ever larger and more imposing as they drew nearer. Now, he could see the fortress gates.

"For the Sons of Lothar!" No longer needing to conceal his presence, the Paladin shouted deliberately so everyone could hear. He slammed down his warhammer, shattering an Orcs's head in an instant. As the Orcs fell, Turalyon pulled his hammer back, attacking an Orcs directly in front of him, then swinging it with all his might at another two steps away.

As he reached the steps, a troop of Orcs charged down. Turalyon raised his warhammer to his chest, enveloped in the Holy Light, and rampaged through the Orcs horde. The Orcs were either slammed into walls or tumbled down the steps, eventually collapsing to the ground below.

A few minutes later, Turalyon reached the top. Before him lay the fortress's walls, far longer than those of Honor Hold, but in disarray. Few Orcs remained on the walls; the vast majority of the Horde soldiers had already rushed out the front gate, charging towards the Alliance army and engaging them in direct combat. And then there were the black figures circling in the air—the black dragons were simply waiting for the perfect moment to enter the battle.

"The Alliance!" Turalyon shouted, raising his warhammer high as he rushed towards the outer edge of the city wall. "The Alliance!" He saw Danas ahead, and the Warrior who had raised their weapons in response. He was covered in blood, but it wasn't the red blood of humans. Their casualties weren't high either. The Holy Light was with them!

The Orcs on the city walls spotted and attacked Turalyon. Now he began clearing out the defenders on the walls. Everywhere there was the clang of metal against metal, stone against plate armor, the thud of flesh against flesh, and the deafening roars of all kinds. Corpses lay piled on the ground, the most distinct colors being the green of the Orcs, the yellowish-white of the humans, the brown and black of the horses, interspersed with glittering armor.

Danas pierced a charging Orcs with his longsword, pulled it swiftly from its corpse, and then swung it around, slicing open the throat of another Orcs, green blood splattering on his face.

A sharp shriek came from above. Turalyon looked up, unable to pinpoint the exact source of the sound. It seemed the dragons couldn't either. The black dragons circled in the air, twisting their necks to look around, trying to locate the source. But they didn't need long—a small figure swooped down, flying like an arrow towards a panicked black dragon.

The black dragon roared in fury, crashing into the fortress with a thud, crushing its solid outer wall. Just as it prepared to retaliate, the Wildhammer Dwarf atop the Gryphon slammed his Storm Hammer down on the terrifying beast. A thunderous boom echoed as it struck the black dragon's head. The Wildhammer Dwarf roared, the Storm Hammer returning to his grasp, soaring back into the sky to face the other black dragons. They roared angrily, charging towards the Gryphon Rider. But just as they approached the Gryphon, more Gryphon suddenly appeared, attacking the black dragons.

A Gryphon flew away from the flock, heading towards Turalyon. Two figures rode on it, one small and the other much larger—it was Khadgar!

The mage leaped down from the Gryphon and waved to the Wildhammer Dwarf in thanks. The Gryphon flapped its wings and took to the air again to join the aerial battle.

"I have bad news," the Archmage said to Turalyon, gripping his staff in one hand.

"What could be worse than the current situation?"

"It's Ner'zhul. I don't think he should be here?"

"What?" Turalyon was startled and looked at Khadgar with a puzzled expression. He needed an explanation.

"I should be able to sense it." Khadgar frowned. "I'm very familiar with the magic of the Eye of Dalaran; it's extremely powerful, but I can't sense it at all here."

"We've been tricked!" Turalyon cursed. "Ner'zhul left before our attack even began, and he took those artifacts with him!"

Khadgar shook his head. "In any case, most of them are here, and we've wiped them out and taken their fortress. Hellfire Citadel is now ours, which gives us a huge advantage."

"This is no use. If we can't catch Ner'zhul... do you know where he went?"

"This will take some time." Khadgar closed his eyes and muttered an incantation. The air around him seemed to begin to shimmer. Then, the mage suddenly opened his eyes. In that instant, his eyes reflected a bright white light, and strange visions were faintly visible within them.

"I've found them," Khadgar said, leaning lightly against his staff. "The magic, it appeared in two completely different directions."

Turalyon shook his head. "Not together? Did Ner'zhul hand over one of the artifacts to someone else?"

"I don't know, but he did do it. The head is in the north, while the Eye of Dalaran is heading southwest, and the Medivh's Book is there too. I guess Ner'zhul couldn't have handed over both artifacts at the same time, so he must be in the southwest. But we have to split our forces to the north; I need the Medivh's Book and the Skull of Gul'dan to close those spatial rifts."

Turalyon nodded. "Then we need to go and find those two things," he decided. Turalyon looked at the others, making a choice in his mind. "Danas, I think you want to go and kill some more Orcs."

"Of course, sir. I think so!"

"Then, you go after Ner'zhul. He's already ahead of us, so Kurdran, you and your Gryphon Rider go ahead to scout out Ner'zhul and his accomplices. Once you see them, attack immediately, or at least slow them down, then return and report to Danas. He will be following closely with his ground forces."

"I'll complete the mission, lad," Kurdran replied, turning to walk toward his Gryphon. Danas nodded, saluted Turalyon, and then left the group to gather his soldiers and prepare them for the long journey.

"They're almost catching up with us."

"Then we'd better hurry up."

The Blood Ring Clan overseer shook his head. "This is the limit of our speed," he pointed out bitterly. "If we speed up any further, my Warrior and their mounts will collapse from exhaustion before those Alliance soldiers catch up with us. Then who will protect you?"

They traveled for two days without stopping until one of Kilrogg's Warrior, an Orcs patrolling the rear, arrived at their makeshift camp, exhausted.

"The Alliance!" The Warrior gasped for breath, drenched in sweat from the long run. "They're right behind us!"

"They've taken Hellfire Citadel faster than we expected!" Blood Maw said. "That idiot Kargath! He should have held the Alliance back!"

Kilrogg remained as calm as ever. "How many people?"

The scout shook his head. "I can't estimate, but there are many, more than all of us combined, and they're moving at full speed right now."

"How much longer until they catch up with us?" Blood Maw asked.

"It should take no more than half a day," the scout replied.

"We must set off immediately!" Kilrogg decided. "Travel through the night! Move out!"

A few minutes later, the Orcs resumed their journey. They only took a few short breaks afterward. Nevertheless, the Alliance did not fall behind, but instead continued to close the gap with the Orcs.

Now, they have to make a serious decision.

"We can fight," Blood Maw suggested, but Kilrogg had already started shaking his head.

"They outnumber us far more," the one-eyed Orcs pointed out. "Though I hate to admit it, it would be a terrible fight if we were to confront them head-on. If we die here, Ner'zhul will never reach the Black Temple."

"But we can't escape either!" the Blood Maw said. "When their prey is right in sight, they certainly won't give up."

"Then there's only one way. We'll use the same trick again: someone has to stay! I'll stay!"...

Danas slammed his right fist into his left palm. "The Orcs are now within our grasp!" he shouted. "All we need to do now is rush in and find them!"

"A wise choice," Kurdran agreed. "They should know we're in pursuit by now."

Danas glanced back at his soldiers, "Attack immediately!"

"For the Sons of Lothar!" Danas struck an Orcs in the throat and continued swinging his weapon, piercing the heart of another Orcs.

A one-eyed Orcs stepped forward and appeared before him. His blind eye was not covered by an eyepatch, but his other eye stared fearlessly at Danas.

"I am Kilrogg Deadeye," the Orcs said proudly. He struck his left chest with one hand and gripped a strange, long-handled weapon in the other. "I am the chieftain of the Blood Ring Clan. I have come to stop you, and therefore... you will die here."

Danas looked at him closely. Judging from the few strands of white hair and the wrinkles on his face, Kilrogg was very old. Nevertheless, he was still very strong, and his posture exuded the nobility of Warrior. Danas unconsciously responded to him in the same tone.

"Very well," Danas replied, raising his longsword in salute to his enemy. "I am Danas Thoradin, commander of the Alliance army. I will continue my advance, and you will not be the last Orcs I kill!" With that, Danas charged forward, his shield shielding him, his longsword already gripped, ready to slash downwards.

Kilrogg blocked the attack.

Without pausing, Danas slammed his shield into Kilrogg's chest with all his might. The Orcs staggered back a step. His sword swung again, aiming for the Orcs's side. The blade sliced a gash just above Kilrogg's waist, the flowing blood causing the Blood Ring Clan chieftain to groan.

However, the pain did not slow the Orcs down. Kilrogg immediately retaliated, slamming his heavy fist into Danas's shield. A dent was left in the hard metal, and Danas lost his footing. Then, the Orcs chieftain swung his weapon, attacking the base of the shield. Danas leaped backward, dodging the fatal blow.

Their eyes met after they separated. Both knew one thing: the other was an evenly matched opponent.

Meanwhile, Kurdran focused his attacks from above. With Stormhammer in hand, the Wildhammer Dwarf single-handedly gave the numerous Orcs a major headache.

Kilrogg took it all in; his Warrior were falling rapidly, and he found himself surrounded. He roared in fury and Charge, not at Danas, but at the group of humans beside him. With lightning speed, two Alliance soldiers fell, blood splattering everywhere, while the other humans swarmed in, trying to deal with the enraged Orcs chieftain. He cut down Danas's soldiers one by one. The Bleeding Hollow Clan Chieftain was now almost entirely alone. Despite this, he showed no sign of giving up. Danas knew that the towering Orcs was willing to sacrifice himself to buy Ner'zhul enough time.

"You have failed, human. Ner'zhul has already gone ahead to the Black Temple to unleash his spells. Now, you can no longer stop him."

"In the name of the Holy Light, at least you can no longer help him!" Danas resumed his attack, his anger fueling his power as he swung his sword relentlessly, but each strike was parried by the cunning Warrior Orcs. Kilrogg grabbed the orc's shield with his left hand and pushed it away.

"You need to push harder, human," Kilrogg said, brandishing his weapons and swinging them toward Danas's face. He then turned and struck again, forcing the human to retreat or risk losing his head.

As the battleaxe swung again, Danas swiftly crouched down, then slammed his shield upwards, striking Kilrogg's arms hard and throwing the Orcs off balance. Danas pressed his advantage, thrusting his sword forward and striking the Orcs squarely in the abdomen. He was surprised at how well he had succeeded.

Kilrogg roared and slammed his forearm down. Danas staggered back a few steps. Now, blood was still flowing from the wound in Kilrogg's abdomen, but that only seemed to enrage him more.

Danas, sword in both hands, charged straight at Kilrogg, his sword slightly higher than his shoulders. Just as the Orcs chieftain stepped forward to meet the attack, Danas suddenly stopped, swung his longsword in an arc, and struck Kilrogg in a blind spot.

The gleaming blade struck the Orcs's neck, slicing open his throat. Kilrogg knelt, his hands still gripping his weapon. He let out a savage laugh... his vision blurring.

"Finally, this is what I saw..."

Blade's Edge Mountains

"We're almost there," Khadgar said. Their squad stopped for a short rest, taking the opportunity to replenish their precious water supply.

After leaving Hellfire Citadel, they headed north, circling the barren coastline to the east. As far as the eye could see, the land remained cracked, withered vegetation and trees. The desolation of Draenor was repulsive.

They were in a vast mountain range, but Khadgar had never seen mountains like these in his entire life. All around were towering peaks, and the cliff faces were covered with protruding rock spikes pointing in all directions, creating a very unsettling sight.

Khadgar casually reached out, wanting to touch the nearest stone spike. But before he could touch it, the mage stopped. "The Skull of Gul'dan is right here!"

"Are you sure?" Turalyon asked.

"I'm pretty sure." Now, even without actively searching for it, Khadgar can feel its presence in his mind with his eyes closed.

"Very well," Turalyon, raising his warhammer and looking at the stone spikes scattered everywhere. "I've had enough of this place."

"Wait, something's not right!" Khadgar pulled Turalyon, signaling him to be quiet.

It was a flapping sound, wings! But it was sharper than the flapping of any bird's wings he had ever heard before.

"Dragon!" he shouted. Khadgar grabbed Turalyon, dragging his friend down with him. A roar and a hiss came from behind him. His arm burned, a smoking hole in his sleeve burned the skin beneath. Khadgar gasped for breath. The hissing continued.

Turalyon looked up and saw several large, dark figures moving among the mountains, swooping down. "Shields!" he shouted, standing up. "Prepare your weapons!"

The black dragons attacking them were about the size of a horse, with small heads and only a few scattered spikes on their backs. Khadgar realized that they were still immature.

"Young dragons!" He raised his staff, warning Turalyon. The small black dragons circled in the air, preparing for a second wave of attacks. "They are not powerful."

The soldiers were invigorated. They swung their weapons fiercely, attacking the fledgling dragons, and occasionally crouching down to dodge their claws and small amounts of lava the size of fists.

Turalyon was about to praise Khadgar's insight when the ground beneath his feet suddenly began to shake violently, making it difficult for him to maintain his balance, while everyone around him struggled to keep their balance.

"By the Holy Light!" Turalyon's eyes widened, utterly unable to express what he was seeing. To Khadgar's left...!

A creature completely ignored the numerous stone spikes and walked straight through them. It looked terrifying, almost twice the height of an ordinary Ogre, with thicker, rock-hard skin, and large, strange patterns on its arms and shoulders. Its back was covered with many black spikes arranged in a straight line, like a small mountain range, while even more spikes grew on its upper arms and shoulders. However, it had only one eye on its face, its mouth was open, and its teeth were long and sharp. Its gleaming single eye looked around, finally settling on them.

"Intruders!" the behemoth roared, its roar alone capable of shattering the rocks around them. "Destroy them!"

More similar figures emerged from the stone forest to the east and west. These monsters moved toward the Alliance soldiers, laughing and roaring.

"Wait!" Khadgar shouted. The creatures stopped abruptly. Turalyon wondered if all mages' words carried any weight. But the Paladin inwardly praised the Holy Light; these creatures could communicate and weren't entirely unreasonable. "We didn't come to offend you!"

"Offend? You are offending me right here!" the creature roared. It spoke slowly, but its movements were not slow at all, and it continued to move forward.

"Well! It's completely useless," Turalyon said. "And the baby dragons are back."

As the young dragon soared through the air, preparing to launch its attack, the monsters' attention was drawn to this aerial assault. Khadgar had never imagined he would feel fortunate to encounter Dragons.

The monsters casually twisted off the giant cone-shaped spikes around them and threw them at the flying dragons in the air, easily knocking them down. Then they trampled the beasts with their huge feet.

Their enormous leader was even more powerful; it simply raised its hand and easily seized a young black dragon. It stuffed it into its mouth, swallowing the little dragon whole in one gulp. After chewing a few more times, it also swallowed the dragon's wings, finally slurring them all down.

"This..." Turalyon began, but he didn't know what words to use to describe what he had just witnessed. He instinctively lowered his weapon, trying his best not to provoke the monsters.

He had just steadied his breathing when the earth began to shake again. This time, however, Turalyon clearly sensed that it wasn't some enormous creature moving, but rather something coming from the air—the sound of flapping wings echoing through the narrow valley, and even some of the rocks shattering into powder.

The largest monster moved its enormous head back, its gaping maw filled with sharp teeth opening wide. It began to roar, as if it knew the reason for the ground trembling.

Everyone held their breath; they all felt something approaching. The feeling was suffocating, Turalyon had a feeling that the impending threat was more terrifying than these towering monsters—and in fact, he was right.

It swallowed the sunlight like a black curtain, its enormous body enveloping the chaotic battlefield. Each flap of its black, lava-tinged wings sent waves of heat down, and the steel embedded in its body creaked and groaned, assaulting the souls of every living creature on the ground. Its jaws, triangular head, broken horns, and those red eyes—its arrival, like its name, heralded the end! Humans, monsters, even the last remaining black dragons—all that remained was fear.

Khadgar's eyes widened, and he didn't know where the power came from that allowed him to still open his mouth and shout, "Deathwing!"

Deathwing? Here!

Turalyon, like everyone else, was stunned. They knew that the Black Dragonflight had allied with the Horde, and that some black dragons had already crossed the Dark Portal to Draenor, but they couldn't, and dared not, imagine that the most powerful elder of the black dragons would appear here.

The dragon's landing was unforgettable. Deathwing was unbelievably large. Compared to Deathwing, the young dragons were utterly laughable. Khadgar could hardly accept it; though utterly shocked, he noticed the black dragon holding its left claw high, bent inward, as if holding something.

"The Skull of Gul'dan!" Khadgar said to Turalyon. "The head is in his hands!"

Turalyon's voice trembled involuntarily as he uttered a terrifying truth. "But how are we supposed to get it?"

Deathwing folded his massive wings, raised his neck high, and glared fiercely at the crowd below, his eyes flashing with furious red light. The ground was littered with the remains of a black dragon!

"My offspring!" the dragon roared, his voice like metal cutting through bone, a mixture of rage and grief. He raised his tail and slammed it down, instantly splitting the ground open. "You insolent reptiles! I will devour you all! I will show you what true torment and madness are!"

"You." The monster leader stepped forward. Turalyon and Khadgar both cursed it inwardly, thinking it was insane! Although it was only one word, it contained a threat and provocation.

"I!" he announced again, "I am... Gruul, the strongest of Gronn! This is my territory, my mountains." Gruul successfully attracted Deathwing's attention, and it pointed at the dragon several times larger than itself, "You, leave, or you will suffer the same fate as them!" It raised a foot and crushed a dead black dragon beneath its feet.

Deathwing's roar nearly deafened Khadgar. "Enough!" Lava dripped from his jaw, and the rocks beneath his feet crumbled into fragments.

"You'll pay the price!" His wings suddenly unfurled, flapping downwards once more, the sheer force of the wind causing Gruul to lose his footing. His kind howled in fear, cowering backwards, almost clinging to the mountainside. Khadgar and Turalyon, who hadn't provoked Deathwing, also suffered the same fate, forced to duck to avoid being blown away.

"Insignificant mortal! In history, I am Deathwing, I am death! I am the terminator of life, the destroyer of history, the conqueror of worlds. Now, this world is mine!"

"No!" Gruul roared, charging towards Deathwing. The massive Gronn slammed into the black dragon's chest, the force of the impact cracking the surrounding ridges and sending boulders raining down from the crumbling summit. Most of the Alliance soldiers, and even the Gronn themselves, scattered for cover. Gruul shook his head, backing away step by step, while Deathwing stood motionless, unharmed.

"Pathetic power," Deathwing sneered.

"Sons of Lothar! Attack!"

Khadgar was still watching the battle between Deathwing and Gruul. Gronn's courage in facing the Black Dragon King head-on was commendable, but he would soon be defeated.

And after Deathwing dealt with Ruel...

Khadgar immediately resolved that he must take Skull of Gul'dan.

The mage raised his staff high, chanting a powerful incantation. The resulting Lightning Bolt struck Deathwing squarely in the chest, forcing the black dragon back several steps. But Khadgar knew the black dragon was unharmed.

"Very good, a magic trick," Deathwing admitted, his large mouth curving into a cold smile. "Too bad, useless!"

Gruul rejoined the battle, while Khadgar anxiously considered what to do next. Deathwing turned his attention to Gronn, easily withstanding Gruul's full-force attacks, and with a flick of his wrist, knocked him aside.

An ominous feeling began to creep into Khadgar's heart. Deathwing easily resisted his spells. He was nothing but an arrogant fool, utterly incapable of piercing that steel-like body.

Armor!

Khadgar's eyes were slightly closed. Under the crimson sun, Deathwing's metallic armor gleamed...

Beneath the crevice lay scorching lava...

"I see!" Khadgar noticed that Deathwing's body was connected by those metal plates. Lightning had no effect, nor had fire or frost. His most powerful spells couldn't harm the black dragon in the slightest. But what about his weakest spells? One of the spells first taught in Dalaran, a spell that even an apprentice mage could easily cast.

Perhaps it would work. He needed to get closer. He steeled his resolve and moved forward. He passed Turalyon, who was fighting a black dragon.

Fortunately, Gruul and Deathwing were still locked in fierce combat, neither of the behemoths noticing Khadgar's continued advance until Khadgar was only ten paces from the black dragon. Deathwing's heavy claws pinned Gruul to the spot, who struggled to break free, but the black dragon pressed forward, opening its gaping maw to seize him. Just then, Khadgar raised his hands and cast a spell.

Deathwing sensed the magic, looked around, and finally noticed Khadgar, mocking him. "Still not giving up? No problem. After I deal with this laughable rat, I'll show you what true magic is!"

Khadgar continued chanting the spell, and it slowly began to take effect.

A creaking sound emanated from the dragon before him. Deathwing screamed in agony, and many similar sounds came from beneath the plate armor covering him. The armor was indeed meant to hold Deathwing together, and as Khadgar's spell took effect, the dragon began to lose its cohesion.

"No!" Deathwing felt pain all over his body, not fatal, but he sensed a threat. "I'll remember you, mage!"

Khadgar took a deep breath; the words were etched into his mind like a curse.

"I'll remember you!" Deathwing continued, his voice echoing in Khadgar's ears. "Whether you're asleep or somewhere else, I will haunt your mind."

His enormous wings unfurled once more, his claws extended, and he released Gruul and the Skull of Gul'dan. Deathwing into the air, his wings flapping incessantly. Khadgar's trembling legs finally gave way, and the Archmage collapsed to the ground. He sat there for a long, long time, panting heavily, knowing in his heart that he had just been incredibly lucky.

After the black dragon leader left, the other black dragons seemed to have lost their Will. One of the larger dragons gave up the fight altogether; his body was covered in wounds, and one of his wings was badly broken, but he still tried his best to keep up.

After Deathwing was forced to retreat, the Gronn launched a frenzied attack. They rushed towards the black dragons that had not yet escaped, tearing them apart with their fists and teeth, crushing their throats, lifting them into the air, and then piercing them with the stone spikes beside them.

Khadgar picked up the severed head that had fallen from Deathwing.

'Humans... I sense it, what immense potential! Don't you agree, Medivh's apprentice? You can become stronger, provided you dare to embrace your true destiny...'

"Ah!" Khadgar gasped, nearly letting the head slip from his grasp. Gul'dan! The mage gritted his teeth, forcibly ending his thoughts. Even dead, Gul'dan remained a danger. He quickly stuffed the head into a pocket and ran towards Turalyon and the others, who were still fighting.

"I got the head!"

Turalyon had just killed a black dragon. "Well done! We need to get out of here. Retreat, now!" The soldiers quickly rallied. Gronn was still reeling from the torment of the black dragon and hadn't even noticed that the Alliance forces had already left.

Turalyon led them out of the mountains in no time. "You're insane, Khadgar!" Turalyon exclaimed as they emerged from the valley. "But we won. Deathwing failed, and I believe the Black Dragonflight will no longer aid the Horde."

Khadgar nodded, still shuddering as he pondered Deathwing's parting threat. He wasn't sure if Turalyon's optimism was justified. "The Medivh's Book is still missing. Once I get it, I can close the portal."

Turalyon sensed victory was near, and he also realized the decisive battle was imminent. The Paladin prayed that the Holy Light would bless them all.

All that remains now is to stop Ner'zhul from opening the portals to countless worlds. Both Khadgar and Turalyon know that if they cannot stop the Orcs now, on the continent of Draenor ... they will never be able to stop Orcs.