New Recruit

"Silence! The collapse of the earth is imminent!"

"Behold the unstoppable power of the Dark Lord with your own eyes!"

"With the power He has given me, I will raze this land to the ground and rebuild it!"

"Look! The earth is shattering before us! Behold this flowing energy! It will make our army even stronger."

"We no longer lack sufficient power! I have saved our future! Enjoy my glory!"

"It's over!"

This was the ninth time Nathanos had heard Gul'dan's phantom speak these words. For the past three hours, at specific intervals, this process had repeated itself. Clearly, the leader of the Shadow Council was currently performing some ritual capable of leveling this land. The earth itself was shattering as a result.

Unfortunately, no result was ever recorded in that process. Shadowmoon Valley, and even the entire Outland, is in its current state entirely because of Ner'zhul. The Orcs chieftain who forcibly opened portals to other worlds has already buried the destruction caused by Gul'dan; otherwise, the Witherer would love to witness the terrifying power of the Curse Cipher.

"If this power could be used to deal with the Lich King, or to deal with the elements, or even to invade the Elemental Plane ..." Nathanos didn't continue, sometimes language cannot express specific thoughts.

"Owner!"

The Witherer glanced to his side, and the hidden Deathstalker appeared. The Forsaken didn't need to explain why he had come to Nathanos, because it was his master's arrangement.

"This is the intelligence you've been waiting for, just sent from Azeroth."

After reaching out and taking the letter, Nathanos opened it and felt a sense of warmth from the writing. His mentor had written in Dwarven language and addressed him directly as "child."

The Witherer had plenty of time to reminisce about his childhood, but he still had many things to do. He quickly glanced at the document and learned that during Turalyon's attack on the Shadowmoon Temple, at the most critical moment, an Orcs betrayed Ner'zhul. Although he was severely wounded by his master, he survived.

"How interesting, an Orc Warlock who has turned over a new leaf? He used to be a member of the Shadow Council. I wonder if this Orcs is still alive."

Reinforcements from the Dark Portal can only reach Honor Hold via Gryphon. Hellfire Citadel is teeming with demons, and breaking through their defenses will take some time, but supporting Honor Hold is of paramount importance. Marshal Izdor, the commander of the Alliance reinforcements, arrived here weeks ago and waited by the Gryphon pen, instructing new recruits while welcoming the Alliance warriors arriving from the Dark Portal.

"This war—don't mistakenly think it's anything other than war—will not be won automatically. If we don't fight with all our might for every inch of this broken world, we will lose everything." Isildur paced back and forth in front of the two rows of soldiers, his strange words as consistent as his rank—a middle-aged man who had become a marshal.

The soldiers listening to him were already showing signs of fatigue, Isildur noticed this as well, but he didn't correct them, since their attention was currently on him. However, it wasn't long before he noticed several soldiers glancing upwards. He coughed deliberately a few times, and incredibly, those soldiers not only didn't turn their gazes towards him, but they also drew the attention of the others.

"What are you doing? I'm talking!" he shouted, but no one answered. Isildur angrily walked toward one of the young soldiers who was staring into the distance. The man only reacted when he was right in front of him, but to Isildur's disappointment, he did not seem flustered or afraid as the marshal had expected. Instead, he seemed even more curious.

"Marshal, look."

Isildur turned his head sharply. What on earth had made his soldiers act like idiots?

He only saw a Gryphon circling overhead, and after three cries, the beast landed on the ground. Isildur finally saw what had attracted the soldiers' attention, but he was also drawn to it.

A striking figure leaped from the Gryphon's back, landing softly on the red earth. Long, golden hair reflected the sunlight; she was a captivating woman, enough to make one swoon. Her entire body was bathed in an ocean blue hue unseen in the Outland, clad in chainmail, oak-brown trousers, and a hooded cloak trailing behind her. Her arms were protected by leather gauntlets, revealing only the snow-white skin of her elbows. A magnificent longsword, adorned with silver runes, slung over her hip, and a longbow and a full quiver were strapped to her back.

"High... High Elf?" Isildur exclaimed in surprise. The other nodded and walked up to the human. The marshal felt inexplicably nervous and ashamed, because his soldiers were unable to control their panting. This rude behavior greatly embarrassed Isildur. He vowed to train these rookies properly from now on.

Hello, ma'am!

"Recruit Sylvanas reporting for duty, Marshal."

Hearing this, Isildur was both amused and exasperated. He only needed to glance at the other person to realize that he was not a newcomer who needed to be trained, but someone with more experience than himself.

"A recruit? That doesn't seem right, madam." Isildur stroked his glossy brown beard and asked, "You look... like a seasoned veteran. Are you a Ranger?"

Sylvanas smiled and spread her hands. "That's obvious, Marshal. But even a veteran must obey the hierarchy in the army. I am a volunteer and a new recruit. You can order me around; I can accept any task and guarantee its completion."

The Female Elf's bluntness left Isildur speechless. She was the first High Elf to appear in Honor Hold. He couldn't very well expect her to go through the basic recruit combat procedures before learning how to treat wounds... she certainly knew all that.

"I probably don't need you here, madam," Isildur replied awkwardly after a moment's thought. He noticed Sylvanas's smile gradually stiffening and quickly added, "You should use your talents elsewhere. Go find General Danas Thoradin; he's in that castle over there. I believe only he knows what kind of mission you should undertake."

"Thank you for your guidance, Marshal Isildur." The Female Elf glanced at the fortress the human had mentioned, which was situated at the highest point in the entire Honor Hold.

"Sergeant Dalton," Isildur called to his waiting adjutant, "Take this lady to General Danas."