Naval Battle

As night fell, the battle grew ever fiercer. Fighting Zandalari naturally meant facing their gods as well. Tatsel noticed that the sea breeze had never been particularly favorable to them. Some loa must have been helping the Trolls.

Fortunately, the Forsaken ships had all been modified, their hulls reinforced by the finest engineers. They were more fireproof, corrosion-resistant, and greatly improved in both defense and maneuverability. Even in unfavorable conditions, they could still move freely across the sea like predators.

Nearly three hours had passed. One of Tatsel's ships had sunk, while the others, though damaged, could still fight. Meanwhile, nearly half of the Zandalari fleet had already been deployed.

Tatsel thought, Good thing their weapons are only ballistae. Those bolts are nowhere near as destructive to a ship's hull as cannon fire.

A group of pterrordax riders launched an attack on the Forsaken from the sky.

"Perfect!" Tatsel ordered. "Use the new ballistae to take down those beasts. Let the Zandalari see how we operate this kind of machinery."

The Forsaken sailors obeyed, firing the bolts that had long been loaded. The bolts exploded midway through the air. In an instant, the sea breeze filled with the scent of chili peppers and mustard. The Zandalari pterrordax riders had no time to react, their formation thrown into disarray by the bizarre tactic. Their mounts were affected and began sneezing uncontrollably, becoming difficult to control. Their wings beat frantically, colliding with one another, causing heavy casualties.

"Don't stop! Hit them hard!" Tatsel shouted.

"My lady, they seem to be forming an encirclement around us," a Forsaken sailor reported hoarsely. There was a fresh gash in her armor, but it had not reached the flesh beneath. "We won't be able to break out in time."

The results before them were only temporary.