Mobilization

The corpse on the ground was already cold. Malkorok wiped his dagger beside him, his eyes following the Great Chief's movements from side to side.

Grommash looks very agitated now.

"You seem to be worried about something, Great Chief."

"Things are going too smoothly, Malkorok."

"Wouldn't it be better if things went smoothly?"

Garrosh paused, glanced at the Blackrock Orc, then fixed his gaze on the chieftain's throne. "I don't like this. Too much success only makes me doubt the report's authenticity."

"What are you doubting?" Malkorok asked.

"There are only two points: Delvin said Nathanos will not return to the Forsaken; the Alliance already believes that the Forsaken are attacking them."

"You think that vampire was lying to you?"

"That's not important," Garrosh waved his hand. "What is important is that I never trust them, just like this human." He pointed to Farivell's corpse. "Whether they carried out my orders or not, they are not worthy of trust!"

Malkorok nodded. "If we make Forsaken the new leader of the Delvin, he'll likely betray us after it's all over, instead of turning the Forsaken into cannon fodder on the Horde battlefield as we'd like."

"Yes, in any case, I can only feel at ease when I personally control the Forsaken."

"So, should we revise the plan?"

Garrosh shook his head. Then he gave a strange smile. "No, not yet. Let's see what happens in Southshore first. I'm curious to know if Varian can still sit still?"

Jaina spent the entire day working on personnel allocation. The reconstruction of Theramore was nearing completion, and most of it consisted of trivial matters that she believed her subordinates could easily handle.

She put down the last scroll of the report, let out a long sigh of relief, and stretched her legs comfortably.

There is nothing better than peaceful Tranquility days.

Sylvanas and Baine entered. The Night Elf guard said urgently, "Madam, someone wants to speak with you."

Jaina rarely heard Baine give orders so casually, especially not to her. What happened? The mage noticed Sylvanas giving her a meaningful look.

"You're here too, Sylvanas." Jaina had guessed something. "Is the person who came Forsaken?"

"Yes," the Female Elf said quietly.

"Fine." Jaina stood still; she absolutely hated sitting in the chair. "Let that person in."

Baine went out and led in an Undead that looked like an assassin. He looked quite dangerous, but his hand never touched his weapon.

"And who are you?" Jaina asked with a smile.

Even now, talking to an Undead still feels strange to her. That feeling comes from the strange looks she gets from other people. Many don't understand why she still trusts these dangerous races, and some even accuse her of forgetting that Theramore was almost destroyed by the Horde.

Jaina didn't want to accuse those people of their claims. She had never forgotten what her city had gone through, nor had she forgotten who had lent a helping hand in Theramore's time of crisis.

Therefore, despite everyone's objections, she chose to engage in diplomacy with the Forsaken. The result was far better than she had anticipated; the Forsaken not only acknowledged Theramore's existence but also donated resources needed for reconstruction. The timber from Silverpine Forest and the ore from Alterac far exceeded what the Alliance had provided. And what they demanded in return was nothing substantial—simply that she restrain her people and forbid them from setting foot on Forsaken territory.

"My name is unimportant; what matters is that I am a messenger, sent by Lord Belmont. He sent me with bad news, Ms. Proudmoore," the Undead said. His bluntness was unclear—whether from aversion to communicating with the living or because of the 'bad news' he spoke of.

"What bad news?"

"Four ships of the Forsaken are heading towards Southshore; they are going to attack that place."

Jaina could hardly believe her ears. "Southshore?"

"Indeed, madam. Those three ships are full of soldiers and carry dozens of cannons and ballistae. I'm sure the Alliance has no ships in the northern part of the Eastern Kingdoms that can match them."

Jaina frowned. "Why did you attack Southshore, and why did you specifically come to warn me?"

"A lot of bad things have happened within the Forsaken recently." The Undead Messenger shrugged. "It's a long story to tell. Lord Belmont hopes you can step in and evacuate the residents of Southshore to Theramore for temporary refuge."

"This sounds like a conspiracy," Baine said. "If we evacuate the people from Southshore, wouldn't you be able to take over the port?"

"Even if you don't do that, Southshore will still fall." The messenger's voice was extremely low. "Humans don't have many troops stationed in Southshore, but there are many civilians and children. Once the fighting starts, they will be sitting ducks."

Jaina knew about the situation in Southshore without his reminder, but she was curious about what had happened among the Forsaken, why they had suddenly turned against the Alliance, and why someone had come to warn her.

This contradictory approach quickly reminded the female mage of herself, and of the scene years ago when she argued with her father in order to maintain peace between humans and Orcs.

It was a disagreement; a disagreement had arisen within the Forsaken.

Jaina sighed. She thought the days of the Undead fighting humans were over, but now it seemed the hatred had never truly disappeared.

"Okay, please go back and tell your leader that I will take immediate action."

"You need to hurry, there might not be enough time."

When Meryl arrived in Alterac through the portal, he didn't have time to greet the person in charge. He quickly transformed into a raven and flew towards Lordaeron.

The closer one gets to the former human kingdoms, the more bloodshed one sees. The Crusaders linger here, and even though the threat of the Scourge has passed, Lordaeron, which they have occupied, shows no signs of recovery.

Nathanos will one day take over this place. The mage was certain of this.

The raven let out a sharp cry, landed where it could see the Crimson Crusade's ships at sea, and transformed back into its Undead form.

"I came as soon as I heard your voice." A masked Crusaders came Warrior behind Meryl.

The monk turned around and was glad to see the naval rank insignia on the man's shoulder.

"I need your help, Voss. It's urgent!"