Assassin

At this moment, the Elf army's battle lines were extremely unstable, with everyone constantly running around. Despite this, Ravencrest did his best to maintain order and stabilize morale. Broxigar had argued with nobles many times in the past, but now he was somewhat grateful to the lord of Black Rook Hold, for it was he who had kept his soldiers in check.

"Why attack Sintalari at this time?"

Broxigar asked skeptically. Nathanos was wiping the blood off the Sulfuras sword, and unlike before, he shared Broxigar's opinion this time.

The attack began two days ago, with the direct target being Sintalari, in order to rescue the so-called "coerced" queen.

"Ravencrest thought the victory at Blackrock Spire would boost morale, and he was right, but..."

"But what?"

"But battles fought with fewer troops are mostly defensive, and it is unwise to attack. Ravencrest's forces lost more than half their strength in the Battle of Blackrock Spire, so they were no longer capable of attacking."

"I wish you could remind Blackrock Lord!" Broxigar said, speaking his mind. "I think it would be better for you to command those men right now. That lord is good, but we need to have better control of the situation."

"That joke sounds quite pleasant." Nathanos and the Orcs exchanged a smile.

The war drums sounded once more, and a Moon Guard collapsed, exhausted. Ravencrest, seeing this, unleashed a torrent of curses at the other Elf. These experienced mages, filled with remorse, adjusted their magic to keep the fallen figure out of the magic matrix.

Broxigar delivered a powerful blow, decapitating a hellhound attempting to breach the defenses. Beside him, Garrid and his remaining men were desperately holding off the enemy's relentless advance. Most of their mounts had long since perished, and they were now fighting alongside the regular Elf infantry.

A knight carrying a tattered banner fluttering in the wind flashed past the Orcs. Nathanos watched in surprise; this banner should usually be beside Ravencrest. Had the Elf garrison been driven to the brink of disarray by the enemy?

He glanced to his left, and his suspicions were confirmed. The Blackbird Banner of Black Rook Hold was flying nearby. Ravencrest himself came into view. Ignoring his own safety, he slashed at a Doomguard, then kicked the wounded man in the head. The Black Rook Hold, accompanied by his personal guards, made a strong impression on the Undead. Nathanos had previously held no respect for Night Elf, but Ravencrest was a natural Warrior, as Broxigar thought.

The Elf, emboldened by the nobleman's resolute expression, surged toward him. Ravencrest had accomplished something even mages couldn't—his followers gained power simply by standing beside him. Nathanos saw resolute and proud faces, knowing they were doomed, yet striving to prevent the demons' victory.

The lord was surrounded by too many Elf, and the Elf commander-in-chief was nearly wounded by his own men several times. On several occasions, blades came within an inch of his body, but he was only focused on dodging the enemy's attacks and paid little attention to his own people's weapons.

A cavalryman began to approach Ravencrest from behind, but Nathanos felt he didn't need to get that close. The Elf had a somber expression and looked different from the other Elf; moreover, he was staring intently at Ravencrest, not the demon.

"Broxigar!" Nathanos shouted, immediately drawing the Warrior's attention as he pointed at the Elf. Broxigar looked over.

Without a second thought, the Orcs walked straight toward Ravencrest. Nathanos also charged in that direction.

"Broxigar!" Garrid shouted, "Where are you going?"

"Hurry!" the green-skinned veteran said in a deep voice, "We have to remind him!"

Following Broxigar's gaze, though still unsure of what the Orcs were doing, he went after them.

"Make way! Make way!" Broxigar shouted at the Elf in front of him. He leaped up and saw the cavalryman already in position, his sword-wielding hand gripping the reins, his other hand reaching into his belt... a dagger hung from his belt, clearly not for killing demons. He drew the dagger and leaned towards Ravencrest.

"Watch out!" Broxigar shouted, but Ravencrest couldn't hear him. The battlefield was too noisy; such a warning was useless.

The assassin's mount shifted its position and thrust the dagger forward, embedding it in the back of Ravencrest's neck.

Ravencrest shifted in his saddle, dropping his sword to reach for his dagger, but the soldier had already pulled it out. Blood gushed from the wound, splattering onto his noble and ornate robe.

Before most of the Elf around could react, the assassin took the opportunity to drop his dagger, mount his mount, and try to escape, but the sea of people blocked his way.

Broxigar roared and slashed a path with the back of his axe. The Elf stared in disbelief at the crazed Warrior. The Orcs felt it was no longer important whether they knew what had happened; the most important thing now was to capture the traitor.

Blackrock Lord trembled and fell forward. Only then did his followers notice, and several Elf rushed forward to catch him before he fell from his mount.

Broxigar finally squeezed his way to Ravencrest's side. "There! There!"

Several Elf looked at him in confusion, but finally two of them followed.

Unable to get his mount through the crowd, the assassin looked back and saw his pursuers closing in. A look of despair crossed his dark face.

Nathanos calculated the distance perfectly and leaped forward. He slashed fiercely at the Night Saber's waist. The sharp blade sliced through the black fur, and blood splattered onto the Undead. Without hesitation, he yanked the assassin off his mount. When the enemy is on the defensive, the one on the offensive is more likely to let their guard down. The assassin swung the dagger he had used to ambush Ravencrest, but an axe blocked his attack.

The downward force almost made the assassin kneel on one knee. He cursed under his breath and dodged another flying kick from Nathanos.

The assassin rose from the ground, dagger in hand, and charged at Nathanos. The two collided head-on, sending the Undead sprawling backward. Surprisingly, the assassin landed with remarkable stability, while maintaining his balance seemed incredibly difficult.

"Die!" the assassin sneered. He lunged forward, nearly injuring Nathanos's eye. Broxigar came to the rescue just in time, his Oak Axe sweeping upwards and knocking the assassin's dagger away.

Then the back of the axe struck the enemy's armor, causing a dull pain in his chest. He looked at Broxigar in horror and staggered back a few steps. Nathanos stood up, facing the wounded enemy.

"It's you!" The Undead glared at the assassinating Elf. Only then did the assassin realize his mask had been knocked off. His identity was no longer a mystery.

"Do you know him?" Broxigar asked.

"Have you forgotten? We saw him once when we were imprisoned in Suramar. He is Azshara's lackey, Varos."