Retreat

"Sir!" A Forsaken stumbled in, the scene inside making him think he had stumbled into an important meeting. Tatsel and the others looked at him.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"You've been forgiven, soldier," Tatsel said. "Any news?"

"Captain Harkel of the Witherer has engaged in battle with the garrison of Southshore. The Wavebreaker and the Wrathful Howl are requesting to reinforce the battlefield."

"No!" Jaina shook her head frantically, her face pale. "We can't fight."

"Tatsel!" Meryl called out the Fleet Commander's name. The man in her mouth tensed like a bowstring.

"Tell them not to make any rash moves." In Jaina's view, this was perhaps the wisest decision the commander had made in a short period of time.

From the start of the battle, Rend was searching for the Forsaken commander's location. Based on his experience fighting the Scourge, he knew that once the leader was eliminated, the remaining enemies would crumble on their own.

But he didn't see anyone who looked like the commander of the battle. His eyes had scanned the surroundings several times; the Undead sought out the living to fight, while humans and Dwarf clashed with the Forsaken. Those wielding weapons certainly weren't; Undead commanders generally knew magic. Even Death Knight's spells were far more dangerous than swords.

The body of an Undead sailor lay at his feet.

Rend heard a series of sucking sounds. Turning his head, he saw a figure hidden beneath a black robe kneeling on the ice. Before him lay a human soldier who had just fallen in battle. Rend was certain: something resembling blood vessels had been extracted from the soldier's body, continuously pumping blood through it.

Rend's entire world erupted. He could accept the fact that his soldiers had died, but he could not tolerate the desecration of their remains.

"That must be their commander!"

Rend charged forward. The battlefield was filled with the sounds of running and fighting. As long as he held back his roar, the guy steeped in blood wouldn't notice.

Just as he expected, the black-robed Undead only came to its senses when Rend was five yards away from the enemy. The human raised his sword high and shouted, "Go to hell, monster!"

A Forsaken Priest ran towards the Withering Blade. She desperately urged her legs to quicken. Her expression was a mixture of shock and anger.

"Commander Tatsel!" she called out, though her leader, below the ship, could not hear her; only two sailors answered. "I want to see Commander Tatsel!"

A rope was lowered, and the Priest clumsily climbed up, nearly falling several times, but the Forsaken there to catch her were also desperately pulling on the rope.

As soon as she stepped onto the deck, the Priest, without even having time to express her gratitude, began to shout, "I want to see the officer! I want to see her!"

She was immediately taken to Tatsel's conference room.

"What do you need, Priest?" Tatsel noticed that the insignia on her body belonged to the Witherer.

Has Harkel been defeated? Have humans begun their counterattack? Southshore's defenses shouldn't be that strong.

"I could hardly believe it—I didn't recognize the Undead until his hood fell down."

"Explain yourself!" Tatsel shouted.

"It's Vampyr, sir. There are those vampires in Captain Harkel's forces."

"How is this possible?" Tatsel couldn't believe his ears, even Meryl was stunned, and everyone was at a loss.

"It's true. I saw a human ambush that guy. He looked like Elf, and there was blood at the corner of his mouth..." The Priest couldn't continue, and even began to feel nauseous.

This fact struck Tatsel like a heavy blow. To the Forsaken, the name Vampyr was utterly malevolent. In the war against the Lich King, Vampyr had committed countless acts of slaughter and destruction. Nathanos had explicitly forbidden the Forsaken from having any contact with those vampires.

Now that they've actually appeared right under his nose, Tatsel simply cannot accept it.

The Forsaken Fleet has a very strict personnel allocation system. Every ship must be registered before setting sail: the number of people on board and the allocation ratio must be verified by the captain of each ship and reported to the Fleet Commander.

"Harkel?" Tatsel realized the problem.

"Now you believe me," Meryl said. "Even your troops have been infiltrated by Scourge spies. They are posing as our members, slaughtering in front of the Forsaken and humans, trying to awaken the Bloodlust of the dead and completely overturn the living's impression of the Forsaken."

"That won't happen. I will personally handle all potential threats," Tatsel said. "Sound the retreat horn and order the archers to prepare."

Upon hearing the latter part of the order, Meryl became anxious, "What are you going to do?"

"To make amends for my mistake. It's good that Lady Proudmoore is here too; one more person can witness this." Tatsel glanced at Jaina. As she came onto the deck, three clear, drawn-out horn calls rang out from the Withering Blade.

Everyone heard the voice, Forsaken understood its meaning even more.

Now let's see who will answer the call to return—who will stay and continue the killing. Tatsel thought.

In the very center of the battlefield, Harkel stared back. "This can't be," she said. But she knew it was absolutely true.

The order to retreat has been given...

"Retreat! Retreat!" one of the Forsaken shouted as he turned.

Harkel rushed over and kicked the overstepping man to the ground; she was the one with the power to give orders.

"I'm so sorry, Captain," the soldier said, "But I didn't hear your voice. I thought you had already..."

"I won't die until I've wiped out all of humanity," Harkel cursed, but the consequences of the soldier's actions were already irreversible. Many Forsaken soldiers were retreating.

"You're not planning to retreat?" the soldier asked in surprise.

"The enemy has not yet been defeated, and the victory of the Forsaken is just around the corner. Why retreat?"

"But... Fleet Commander..."

As if in response to his inner turmoil, Harkel shot down the Alliance soldier who charged forward.

"See? They won't let us go. The only thing we can do now is to defeat them."

"I'm sorry, Captain," the soldier said. "I cannot agree with your opinion. I am here on the orders of Lady Tatsel, and the attack on Southshore was also her order. Now she has new orders, and I must obey."