Disagreement

The human on the left swung Greatsword adorned with Lion Totem at Harkel —a weapon that startled Harkel. The Night Elf on the right, wielding two short swords, slowly approached her. Harkel parried the Greatsword's attack with her own sword, simultaneously kicking the dark-skinned human aside and handing him over to one of her crew members.

Before she could react, the Night Elf's sword had nearly grazed her neck. But the target wasn't her; it was the gun in her hand. Like Bolilake's instrument, the gun was deflected by the sword and fell into the sea.

Harkel loved the musket and cursed that the Night Elf would pay the price. The Captain's Sword clashed with the broken Alliance Twin Swords. After only three rounds, Harkel plunged his sword into the Night Elf's shoulder, pinning him down and inflicting excruciating pain with every movement. Harkel grabbed the creature's head and slammed it against the mast, the sound of skull shattering echoing.

"Bolilake!" Harkel pulled the short sword from his arm and tossed it to the unarmed Goblins, shouting, "Quickly, light all the cannons and fire!"

The Alliance actually used a harpoon to jump onto the Witherer, but the harpoon couldn't be fired very far, which meant that their ship wasn't far away either, although their exact location couldn't be seen.

Soon after, thunderous artillery fire rolled in, shaking the air for a long time.

Harkel heard the sound of the impact hitting the deck, which thrilled her. The Forsaken crew were also elated.

The Alliance was clearly thrown into disarray by the sudden barrage of fire, and Harkel's strategy worked. The Forsaken gradually gained the upper hand.

Then, the sound of the Alliance's horns rang out from behind the fog, which Harkel believed meant "retreat." She was right; the enemies scrambled up the ropes and retreated back to their own ships. Some poor wretches, unable to escape, perished in the Great Sea.

Bolilake turned to Harkel and asked, "Should we give chase?"

Harkel shook his head and said, "No need. Let them go." Chasing a ship in this pitch-black fog would be unwise. "Check on the wounded."

Heavy, chaotic footsteps echoed across the deck.

Bolik looked up at the mast and asked loudly, "Scout, can you still see any human warships?"

"They left after the horn sounded," the other replied. "I just heard the sound of fast-moving boats. It's gone now."

Harkel's hands clenched tightly, her right hand still gripping her weapon, fearing she would suffer the same fate as the Shadowfang. The Forsaken were under attack by the Alliance. The corpses, both Alliance and Forsaken, were the best evidence.

"Captain!" Bolilake returned. "We've lost dozens of men. Besides, all the prisoners we captured have bitten their tongues and committed suicide."

"They should be glad they died young. We repelled them. We did it. We ultimately didn't let them succeed." Harkel turned to her crew. "You did a good job, Forsaken. You did not fail this ship, nor did you fail your master, the Witherer." She saw a Forsaken throwing human corpses into the sea and quickly stopped him. "Don't feed the corpses to the sharks! Gather them together; we're taking them with us! Also, retrieve all the visible Forsaken remains from the sea, and ideally, find the Shadowfang's captain's remains. Lord Tatsel must know about this; when we return, these will be evidence of the Alliance's crimes."

Bolilake nodded and replied, "Yes, Captain."

Harkel stared blankly at the thick fog before her; it was this fog that had given the Alliance the opportunity to launch their attack. She couldn't help but feel apologetic towards Bolilake's instruments.

"I'm so glad to see your crew is alright, my friend," Veronalara said, but no smile appeared on her face.

Tatsel seemed not to hear her, attending the meeting with a gloomy expression; everyone could sense the resentment emanating from her. Her orange-yellow eyes were also filled with a strange emotion: anger.

"Everyone's here, let's begin!" Belmont said, as always.

"My men were attacked." Tatsel seemed to be on the verge of losing control. She wasn't stating the facts, but rather emphasizing that everyone present knew what had happened to the Shadowfang and the Witherer. The former was completely wiped out, and the latter also suffered heavy casualties.

"The Alliance must pay the price!" The Fleet Commander's voice was firm and unwavering.

"We've kept to ourselves and the Alliance! We haven't signed any agreements. I think maybe they just spotted our ships in the fog and mistook us for enemies." Meryl said. "We haven't signed any agreements either."

"Once is an accident, but what about twice?" Tatsel's heart tightened. She respected Meryl, but now she regarded the mage as a stubborn fool. "You should really go to the docks. See how many Forsaken's bodies lie there!"

"I've already seen it from a distance."

"Then I have reason to find it hard to believe that you're still defending the Alliance." Tatsel was still furious.

Veronalara's expression was grave as she asked Belmont, "Leader of the Shadowblade, what happened to the Alliance's higher-ups? Why are they attacking us for no reason?"

Belmont frowned. Although they controlled the Alliance's military decisions through several high -Alliance officials, the current situation was indeed perplexing. "My people have been gathering intelligence, but..."

"If it's just about getting by, no matter how many spies you plant, it's useless! After all, those spies are just living people. The Forsaken are paying them too much, so much that they're starting to get tired of it! Their lives are getting better and better, and they're getting closer and closer to the people around them. Over time, they've even forgotten who they're serving, or they've already had thoughts of betrayal and want to sever ties with us."

Belmont's calmness contrasted sharply with Tatsel's agitation. After listening, he retorted, "Our spies are all handpicked! If they betray us, we can simply reveal their identities, and the Alliance will arrest them all without us having to lift a finger."

"Then, would you dare to do that?"

The leader of the Shadowblade was speechless for a moment.

Tatsel continued, "Don't say things like there's no evidence to prove those spies betrayed us, or that the intelligence was wrong—those are all excuses. Even if the evidence is conclusive, we can't act on our own without the Witherer's orders! Our master is too merciful; he won't punish those traitors, he'll only try to make up for the intelligence losses!"

Belmont stood up and punched the air. "You'd better take those words back, Tatsel."

I'm stating the facts!

Veronalara then realized that suppressing her anger was incredibly difficult. "You two were among the first to join the Forsaken; is your trust in each other as fragile as a bubble?"

"I lost a ship's worth of soldiers, and the evidence against the attackers is irrefutable..."

"This does not prove that it was an order from the King of Stormwind," Belmont retorted. "Even the most powerful leader cannot guarantee that he can control all his soldiers."

Tatsel remained silent in response to these remarks.

"We need to find out who attacked the Shadowfang and the Witherer," Nathos said. "Where was Captain Harkel attacked?"

"It should be near Thousand Needles. Fortunately, we have a base in Razor Ridge, otherwise the Witherer would have nowhere to dock."

Veronalara nodded and said, "I will send my Dark Ranger to investigate this matter."

Philefist, who had been silent all along, tapped on the table before the New Year.

"What's wrong?"

The Death Knight turned and stared at Veronalara. "I'm curious, since the Alliance no longer has any cities or outposts in southern Kalimdor, why are their ships near the Barrens?"

Their eyes met. Veronalara's red eyes clearly saw a desire lurking in Prefist's eyes: killing.

"What do you mean by that?" The Dark Ranger's tone turned cold. "Are you implying that the Alliance wants to regain control of their former territories?"

"It's not impossible," Tatsel interjected. "Or the Alliance might think we've joined the Horde! It's no secret that Horde messengers have reached the Forsaken's territory, and we haven't publicly declared our position."

"Perhaps we should sign a formal agreement with the Horde and the Alliance." Meryl nodded. "We should tell them that we will not interfere in their conflict."

Tatsel glared at Meryl again. "The last diplomat who believed in the agreement has already slunk off to the Eastern Kingdoms! If it weren't for the Witherer's help, Jaina Proudmoore would have disappeared along with Theramore long ago. She also signed a non-aggression pact with the Horde, and what happened? It turns out that no war can be stopped by a piece of paper alone."

"We'd better not get involved in the war. Let's clear up the misunderstanding first," Veronalara said quickly, sensing the tension in the meeting. "Let's find out which captain from the Alliance attacked us."

"Thank you very much." With that, Tatsel shook his head and stood up. "I will send a fleet to search the coastline of Kalimdor!"

The Dark Ranger's tone turned cold as she grabbed the ship's commander's arm. "Have you been blinded by anger? What you're doing is nothing short of a show of our naval power to the Alliance and the Horde."

"Of course." Tatsel interrupted Veronalara before she could speak, "I should have done this a long time ago! It's because we've been hiding that the Alliance thinks we're easy to bully! They need to understand what the price is for angering a lion!"

"You can't do that. It will only cause panic among the living!"

"Each of us commands a portion of the Forsaken's forces." Tatsel had intended to say something like, "Let them be afraid," but this is what came out of his mouth. "The temporary system established when Lord the Witherer left was only to address the Forsaken's daily problems and did not involve military matters. You have no right to dictate what my navy should or shouldn't do."

After hearing this resounding rebuttal, Veronalara could no longer hide her shock. Tatsel forcefully opened her hand.

Watching the Fleet Commander leave, Veronalara closed her eyes heavily. She felt her body being drained away, bit by bit. In the blink of an eye, she still couldn't make sense of what had happened.

"Clearly, Lord the Witherer One did not consider the possibility that we would have a conflict."

Veronalara was astonished by this, and just as she was about to vehemently refute Prefist, Meryl raised her hand to stop her. "Then let's take this as a test and resolve this issue."

"What do you mean by that?" Veronalara already guessed what the mage leader wanted to say, but still wanted to hear it from his own mouth. "Are you saying we should remain like this without the Witherer?"

"The facts are clear, Dark Ranger. We've relied too much on the Witherer. He was trustworthy, his influence a pillar of the Forsaken, but as he himself said, he once told me, could the Forsaken survive without him? Nathanos was undoubtedly an excellent leader in the face of any threat to Azeroth, and I sincerely admired his abilities, but that wouldn't last. The Witherer's body... you all know that, don't you?" Meryl placed his thin, bony hands on the table, revealing his weariness. "Nathanos is gone now, and there's no telling when he'll return. I can't even guarantee whether he'll still be willing... to continue as leader."

"That's the end of this topic," Belmont interrupted him, but didn't rebuke the mage for his suspicions about the Witherer, which surprised Veronalara. The leader of the Shadowblade left his seat; he had always chaired such meetings and was the one who ended them, but this time he left without saying a word.

Nathos had vanished sometime earlier. Prefist's heavy plate armor creaked as he stood up. Only Meryl sighed at the Dark Ranger, perhaps the greatest apology he could offer.

"This is insane!" Veronalara covered her forehead with her hand. Having recently decided to completely forget the past, she was prepared to Consecration everything to the Forsaken. But she never expected the challenge to come so quickly. She wouldn't be afraid of fighting off external enemies, but the appearance of cracks within the Forsaken was unprecedented.

The Dark Ranger gradually realized that Nathanos had been suppressing this situation all along, and now... the political system he had established could not fill the void left by his disappearance.

In a daze, Meryl's last words became Veronalara's biggest worry.