Actions on All Sides

Quel'Thalas

Nathanos had packed his belongings and was ready to leave. He did not travel with Turalyon's army, despite Turalyon's earnest urging; he refused the Paladin's invitation. Some things were more convenient for him to do alone.

"You're leaving?" Nathanos hadn't taken more than a few steps when Sylvanas appeared behind him and said, "Why aren't you saying goodbye?"

"I thought you were dealing with military affairs, after all, you are assembling an army, which must be quite troublesome." Nathanos looked at her and spoke to her cautiously.

"But there's still time to say goodbye." The Female Elf approached him and then handed him a magnificent blue longbow. "Here you go."

"A gift for me? It looks quite valuable." Nathanos examined it carefully after receiving it. His previous wooden bow was damaged, and he had originally planned to make another one.

Sylvanas looked at Nathanos's expression; he was clearly pleased with his gift. The Female Elf smiled and said, "This bow is called Lo'gresh, known as the Heart-Splitter Bow. Consider it a reward for your help to Quel'Thalas."

Nathanos reached out and pulled back the bowstring; the effect was excellent. "Thank you. You must want me to use this bow to hunt down more Orcs."

"I will make them pay." Sylvanas's eyes flashed with rage. "The Horde and those dragons will be judged for the atrocities committed here." Every word she uttered was filled with hatred, Nathanos could understand her anger. "They will pay for their crimes in blood, for my loved ones."

"You knew everything?" Nathanos asked in a low voice, concealing a hint of surprise. Sylvanas's composure gave Nathanos a bad feeling.

"I am also Windrunner, Alleria has no reason to hide it from me," Sylvanas said, reaching out to grab the corner of Nathanos's clothes at the chest, where there were still damp marks.

"She must have cried for a long time." The Female Elf looked up at Nathanos; the two sisters' observational skills were comparable to his. The human nodded and replied, "She was in great pain, and I believe you were too."

Do you love her?

"What?" Nathanos looked at the Female Elf in surprise. How could she ask such a question? It was absurd and laughable. He had never considered matters of the heart, nor did he intend to.

"Alleria, do you love her?" the Female Elf asked again.

"What kind of question is this? It's incredibly stupid. Elf and humans?"

"Are you racially prejudiced?"

"Of course not, it's just that your question came out of nowhere." Nathanos stroked his chin, still wondering if this was a trap set by Sylvanas, waiting for him to fall into it, but the current situation didn't seem like the time for jokes.

"If your answer is yes, you should stay. For her, or... for others." Sylvanas said, then fell silent.

Nathanos looked at her for a long time before answering, "She's not alone... and neither are you." He gave her the answer. A flicker of sadness crossed Sylvanas's face, then she suddenly felt a pang of selfishness. She had Alleria by her side, but who did Nathanos have? She wanted Nathanos to stay, not just her wish, but Alleria's as well. But Lordaeron was in dire straits, and his family was there. Sylvanas felt she shouldn't stop him.

She nodded. "I will stand with her." Sylvanas said firmly, "In the past, Alleria only had Silvermoon City on her shoulders, but now she is the new head of the Windrunner family, and I will help her handle everything. This war has changed many people, including her and me, and nothing can separate us again."

Nathanos sighed, affected by Sylvanas's words. He longed to know how his family was doing. "I envy you, Sylvanas."

The Female Elf released his clothes, turned around, and then looked back at him, saying, "I only realized how precious my family was after I lost them. But it's all too late! Don't repeat my mistakes. Go find your family. Have a safe journey, Nathanos."

"Have a safe journey, Sylvanas."

Alliance

Anduin Lothar pulled up the brim of his hat and looked around. He wiped the sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand and drew his sword from the Orcs's corpse.

"Is this the last batch, Marshal Lothar?" a soldier asked.

"I don't know, soldier," Lothar answered truthfully, his eyes fixed on the nearby bushes. "I hope so, but I think there must be many more."

"How many of these monsters are there?" another Warrior complained, stepping on an Orcs and pulling out his axe. The corpses of monsters clearly smaller than Orcs were mixed in with the Orcs corpses; the Horde wasn't entirely Orcs. It was a tedious, small-scale battle, and the dense branches overhead blocked the Wildhammer Gryphon's view, so the fighting had to be done by Lothar and his Warrior.

"Stay vigilant," Lothar replied absentmindedly, then smiled at the soldiers. "There are fewer now, aren't there?" The soldiers laughed. These soldiers came from different kingdoms: Lordaeron, Stromgarde, and a small number from Gilneas and even Alterac. In addition, he had brought some soldiers from Stormwind City. For the past few weeks, they had set aside their inter-kingdom conflicts and united. Now, they were soldiers of the Alliance, fighting like brothers, and Lothar was proud of them. If the remaining soldiers were like them, he felt they had the victory in their grasp; they would win this battle and secure future peace.

Then he saw what appeared to be movement on one side of the woods. "Be on guard," he warned, carefully crouching down and pointing his sword at the source of the movement. But emerging from the woods was a human, not Orcs. It was one of his own soldiers!

"Marshal!" the soldier gasped. He wasn't injured, but he still gripped his sword tightly. "Marshal!" Only then did Lothar notice the parchment clutched in the soldier's hand. Without a word, the soldier handed the parchment to Lothar.

"Thank you," he said, casually taking the note. A soldier offered the messenger a water pouch, which he gratefully accepted. Lothar quickly scanned everything described on the parchment, then gritted his teeth. The soldiers around him tensed at his gesture.

"What does it say, Marshal?" a soldier finally asked. Lothar looked up, his fingers trembling as if he were holding some annoying insects. "Is it something bad?"

Lothar nodded, anxious about the intelligence he had just received. "The Horde has begun its attack on Lordaeron," he said softly, but this immediately caused a commotion among some of the soldiers. "They may be attacking the capital now!"

"What should we do?" a soldier from Lordaeron asked nervously. "We should go to Lordaeron immediately."

But Lothar shook his head. "It's too far from Lordaeron." He said sadly to the soldier, "Now, we need to complete our mission here first. We must ensure that the Horde in the Hinterlands is wiped out and that the Horde is not allowed to establish Horde here."

His soldiers nodded, though they were reluctant to slaughter the remnants in the woods, leaving their families and friends to face the Horde. Lothar saw their thoughts. "Turalyon and the rest of the Alliance army are already on their way to Lordaeron," he reassured them, and some soldiers showed delight. "He will go to assist in the defense of Lordaeron." He gripped his sword tighter. "And now, after we've dealt with things here, we will march on the capital and wipe out the enemy forces that have fled under his attack."

The soldiers cheered at his words, and though Lothar felt a chill run through him, he managed a forced smile. He knew his soldiers were happy that reinforcements were arriving in Lordaeron, and also cheering for their impending victory. He hoped it was as simple as he had said. But he knew that all of this depended on Lordaeron holding out until reinforcements from Turalyon arrived.

"You've rested enough," he said after relaxing his soldiers for a few seconds, "Make sure there are no remaining Orcs around here, then we'll regroup at Aerie Peak." The soldiers nodded obediently, then picked up their weapons and began to line up. Lothar then began to lead them into the dense jungle, while the messenger rejoined their ranks.

Marius Farm

The Orcs Grot had been imprisoned for seven days. The bucket of water Nathanos had placed beside him was nearly empty, and the small piece of bread in his hand was his only remaining food. If Nathanos didn't return soon, he would go hungry. Grot didn't intend to struggle any further and try to break free of his chains; it would only waste his energy. Perhaps the human who imprisoned him was dead! Thinking this, Grot couldn't help but smile. That human must have died on the battlefield. He took a bite of his bread, then pondered his fate, imprisoned here and ignored. "I'll starve to death," Grot said through gritted teeth. He couldn't help but feel fear; even just now, a fleeting thought crossed his mind that Nathanos was still alive, and that he could return and give him more food. Grot felt foolish for placing his hopes on a human. The barking of sheep and farm dogs outside the barn reached his ears. He was thoroughly annoyed by the sounds of these animals over the past few days, but this time he also heard footsteps. The warehouse door opened again, and Grot, who hadn't seen light for days, felt the glare intensely. After a long while, he saw Nathanos standing in front of the door, who then tossed a large leg of lamb to his feet. Grot immediately picked it up and began to devour it, not caring whether it was poisonous or not.

"I'm relieved to see you're still alive," the human at the door said. "You're just a little thinner than before. Do you still want to kill me?"

Grot didn't reply; his mind was preoccupied with deciding which part of the lamb leg to taste next.

Nathanos smiled. He had returned just in time; he would need Grot's help with some things to come.