Balance

Ohan looked up at Nathanos's covered face, and she didn't react for a moment.

"It's been so long, do you still recognize me?"

The Witherer broke the silence, and the female Orcs shuddered. As she came to her senses, she was also taken aback by Nathanos's slightly hoarse voice.

"Indeed, Master. It has been many years since I last saw you after we parted in Lordaeron." Ohan planted his Greatsword in the ground, took a deep breath and said, "I am sorry to see you like this, but I believe you must have died a glorious death. If you hadn't sent me a letter two years ago, I wouldn't have believed you were still alive."

"I'm glad you still answered my call, Ohan, but you're wrong about one thing: I am indeed dead." Nathanos shook his head and pointed out, "Death has taken over me and subjected me to many terrible torments. Now, I am cursed and struggling to survive on Kalimdor. I am now preparing to begin the search for a suitable candidate for the Twelve Blades, but I also need your help."

"Give the order, Master." Nathanos was pleased with Ohan's decisive attitude. "The members of the Twelve Blades would have been unconditionally loyal to you. If it weren't for you, that child who stole food from Durnholde Castle ... would have been dead long ago."

"Very well, Ohan, I accept your loyalty. Now tell me, what position do you hold in the Horde?"

"You always instructed me to keep my strength hidden within the Horde. It wasn't until two years ago when you suddenly contacted me that I began to show my abilities. Thrall promoted me to High Warlord and allowed me to recruit my own soldiers from among the Horde members."

Nathanos stroked his chin, weighing the pros and cons. "Tell me, are your soldiers absolutely obedient to you?"

"I understand your concerns, Master." Ohan smiled reassuringly. "The members at the heart of Horde politics— Orcs, Troll, and Tauren —are difficult to control, but Ogre are different. Two years ago, after the Horde warrior Rexxar left, his Stonemace Ogre Tribe lost its leader. For the past two years, I have been recruiting them, and most of the Ogre have already taken up my command, while a small number remain holed up in Dusty Swamp."

"Ogre are indeed easy to control, being simple-minded. Your choice was wise," Nathanos praised, then asked, "Now tell me, why did you say in your letter that you wanted to meet me at Dire Maul? Do you have some special mission here?"

Ohan's eyes lit up, and she replied excitedly, "Master, you once said that you were looking for a place to live in Kalimdor."

"Indeed, I have already conquered the Wailing Caverns and Razor Ridge."

"But I think neither of these places compares to Dire Maul."

Nathanos looked up at the high walls of the arena. The shouts of the audience were very clear, and it seemed that Valeera's battle was nearing its end. "You're right. Dire Maul has open spaces, natural walls, and is surrounded by rugged terrain with dense forests. It's not suitable for large-scale battles, but it is indeed suitable for building a base."

"I will give it to you," Ohan declared, but Nathanos refused.

"No, Ohan, you can't do that."

The female Orcs suspected Nathanos was questioning her strength, but she was confident he had witnessed her performance in the arena today. The blood on the Greatsword was still warm. "If you doubt my abilities, I'm ready to prove them to you."

"I have no doubt about the power of the Twelve Blades. However, the Forsaken cannot occupy Dire Maul yet. This place..." Nathanos frowned as he looked up at the High Elf- style building, feeling a little regretful. "It's too conspicuous. The Forsaken cannot expose themselves to the world yet. But sooner or later, I will take it over myself."

"I look forward to that day, Master." Ohan nodded, then added, "I will guard this place until then to prevent the Night Elf from getting there first."

"Night Elf?" Nathanos looked seriously into Ohan's eyes. "They... are here too?"

"Indeed, Master. A group of sentinels from Darnassus has occupied a floating island in the western sea of Feralas and established a fortress. They are well-equipped, with blade throwers, harpy beasts, and Ancient of War. Their leader is called Shandris Feathermoon."

"Ranger-General of the Night Elf Sentinels?" Nathanos lowered his voice, but couldn't hide his surprise. "Tyrande actually sent her most loyal follower all the way to Feralas? What is their purpose?"

"It's clearly related to Dire Maul. I think you should have noticed that the city is inhabited by Night Elf."

"I saw them." Nathanos recalled the Elf watching the gladiatorial games in the stands, but he sensed that those Night Elf didn't come from the homeland of the Night Elf. He could sense the magical aura emanating from them. "Those Elf ...could they be High Elf?"

"I don't know what the High Elf are, Master, but they are certainly not from the Alliance. On the contrary, they seem to be hostile to outsiders."

The Witherer recalled his experiences in the War of the Ancients: the prosperity of Sintalari, the power of the Well of Eternity, the beauty of Queen Azshara, and her extravagant followers...

"I always thought the High Elf had sunk to the bottom of the sea with their queen, but I didn't expect there were still some mossy wounds that hadn't been healed. This makes sense, Tyrande has always been hostile to the High Elf, even driving out her magical companions. The fact that she's mobilized so many troops to send to Feralas suggests that she's determined to win."

"How should we deal with their actions?" Ohan sought Nathanos's instructions, hoping to have a good fight with the Night Elf and drive them out of the land.

"You must stop them," Nathanos said, giving Ohan the answer she wanted, but the Witherer's next words puzzled her. "But you cannot destroy them, nor can you let them leave this place."

"This... could you tell me the reason, Master?"

"Now you need to maintain a balance, a balance between the Alliance and the Horde Alliance Feralas. Shandris represents the Alliance, and you represent the Horde. I don't want either of you to dominate this place. The best way is to maintain your competitive relationship." Nathanos' explanation cleared up Ohan's doubts. Her task was to prevent the Alliance and the Horde from gaining unilateral control over Feralas.

"Of course, this mission is very difficult. You only have Ogre, while the Night Elf are heavily armed. You need to make good use of Feralas's geography. The Forsaken will not help you in order to hide."

"I am fully capable of this mission, my master." Ohan drew his Greatsword. " Shandris's arrows cannot bring me down."