Captured

Broxigar was utterly exhausted and collapsed to the ground. His weapon had slipped from his grasp. Even if he were sent to the battlefield, he would have been too weak. It wasn't until nightfall that he slowly recovered. He struggled to his feet, but his legs felt limp. While the Orcs waited anxiously, he had assumed his battle axe had fallen far away, but it was found safely a few feet away. His legs were still immobile, so he had to crawl on his hands and knees to the axe. Though he lacked the strength to lift it, simply holding his prized possession was enough to satisfy him.

Broxigar felt he could move again and immediately faced the Undead. He noticed that Nathanos had also just stood up.

"Who exactly are you?" This time it was Nathanos who spoke first.

"Undead who speaks Orcish?" Broxigar was surprised for a moment, but he didn't investigate further or answer Nathanos's question. He rushed forward, and although he had regained much of his strength, he was still unsteady on his feet, and his attacks were easily dodged by Nathanos.

Both the Undead and the Orcs wanted to know what had happened. They both knew that mages could cast spells to travel from one place to another. But it was clear that neither of them were mages, yet that didn't guarantee that what had happened was unrelated to the other.

Nathanos was wary of any further action from the Orcs, but he also knew this was no place to linger. Based on his experience, even in the most Tranquility, unfamiliar surroundings were never truly safe. He was alone and unsure of his location. Whatever happened, he needed to find out what had happened. Perhaps he could discover why he had been teleported here.

Broxigar shared the same thought; he wanted to understand this place, perhaps even find the locals. If the native inhabitants were intentionally or unintentionally using magic to interfere with the Orcs' new homeland, it could pose a threat. He might die eventually, but protecting his people was his top priority.

At least now, they had a general idea of what race lived here. Before the great battle with the Burning Legion, Nathanos had never heard of the Night Elf, but he could never forget Night Elf's appearance. He didn't know how he had ended up in a land ruled by Elf.

Broxigar realized this too, but there was still hope; once he gathered the information, he could return. While in Kalimdor, the Night Elf and Orcs fought side-by-side, allowing Broxigar to learn about a continent previously unknown to him. After some observation, he became certain he could find his way home.

The Night Elf had once allied with the Orcs and humans, but they would not be friendly towards an intruder. Nathanos had refrained from attacking Broxigar, knowing that making too much of a commotion would likely alert the Elf.

"What you wish for will come true!" The Undead clenched his fist.

Although he did not encounter any Elf immediately, he noticed a beam of light in the distance, seemingly emanating from a larger settlement.

The Orcs Broxigar had barely made a move when he sensed something approaching him from behind. Two cavalrymen! His eyes narrowed in surprise; the cavalrymen weren't on horseback, but on the back of a powerful Night Saber.

Nathanos had already crouched down and concealed himself. The Orcs gritted their teeth, ready to fight the moment they spotted him. But the cavalry seemed to be in a hurry, rushing past him. Even in the dim light, they continued their rapid advance. Nathanos suddenly remembered that the Night Elf's night vision was about the same as their daytime vision.

This doesn't seem like a good sign. His night vision is decent, but not as good as Night Elf's.

He wielded his battle axe, and despite lacking the advantage of good eyesight, Broxigar could hold his own against these Elves. Whether day or night, with his battle axe in hand, the Orcs warrior was invincible. Even the Elf's finely armored bodies could not withstand his sharp weapon.

The cavalrymen gradually faded from sight. Nathanos wanted to leave too, but as soon as he turned around, an Elf in a silver robe appeared before him. She looked extremely surprised, and before Nathanos could stop her, she screamed.

Night Elf poured out from all sides.

Broxigar was immediately caught in a dilemma. He wanted to fight bravely, but he also wanted to complete Thrall's mission. After much deliberation, he angrily turned and ran away.

However, from the trees and behind the rocks, Elf kept pouring out—each carrying a powerful bow and crossbow.

The horns sounded. The Undead and Orcs knew what the sound meant. In an instant, the roars and shouts of the Elf filled their ears.

Nathanos was surrounded. This time, every Elf was fully armed, and their Night Saber looked even more terrifying. They could tear Undead body apart with a single claw, and swallow its entire head with a single bite of their sharp teeth.

Although these beasts don't enjoy devouring a corpse.

At that moment, a Night Elf, unable to contain himself, charged at him, brandishing his scimitar. Nathanos effortlessly snatched the weapon from him and then stunned the reckless Elf with the hilt of the blade.

Meanwhile, Broxigar and the Elf also began to fight. The Night Elf retreated, putting some distance between themselves and Broxigar. Just as Broxigar thought he had a chance to escape, another Night Elf appeared before him, wearing a shimmering blue pearl robe with silver trim on the chest.

Broxigar swung his battle axe and roared, trying to scare the creature away. But the Night Elf raised his hand, stretching it towards the sky. Nathanos noticed the commotion and knew what it meant— the Elf was casting a spell, but it was too late. At that moment, a ray of moonlight descended from the sky, like a soft ribbon, enveloping Broxigar. He felt his arms grow heavier and heavier, his legs suddenly went limp, his eyelids drooped, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

The battle axe slipped from his grasp, and Broxigar finally collapsed to the ground. He felt incredibly angry, but this anger only fueled his rage. He struggled for a while before finally losing consciousness.

The Elf used magic unfamiliar to Broxigar, but used the bow and arrows they knew best to use on Nathanos.

The incoming arrows gleamed in the moonlight. Nathanos blocked several, but his arm was still pierced by one, and a silver ribbon wrapped around him. His body, which he had finally managed to steady, suddenly went limp, just as it had when he first arrived. His scimitar fell to the ground, and he knew it was impossible to retrieve it.

The Undead began to stagger and fell down like the Orcs.