"Report!"
The Command Room door was pushed open by a blood-soaked noncommissioned officer. This corporal, transferred from Sen'jin's Headhunters to Draenor World, was a brave fighter who dared to risk his life. Yet now, a trace of fear was plainly visible on his long, typically trollish face.
This was the Third Burning Legion's encampment in Netherstorm. Twenty minutes earlier, a Demon Vanguard had emerged from the Void and begun attacking its defensive line. Only twenty minutes into the brutal battle, the Third Burning Legion had already suffered over fifty percent casualties.
Standing inside the Command Room was a towering tauren. Unlike other tauren, however, the skin exposed outside his steel armor was a rare pale gold, looking like some kind of hard metal. His voice, too, had a metallic quality, like steel blades scraping against one another.
"What is it?"
"Five minutes ago, the 154th Alliance Forces were wiped out. The demons have already broken into the Second Defensive Line. The front needs reinforcements, sir!"
The troll officer wiped the blood from his face and spoke loudly. Outside the Command Room windows, the constant thunder of fel-energy cannons and the flashes of large-scale war spells channeled by demons lit up Netherstorm's dim sky, forever shrouded in polar night. It looked like a magnificent fireworks display.
Yet faced with the messenger's anxiety, the tauren studying the map with his back to him showed not the slightest tension. In that peculiar metallic voice, he said quietly,
"Oh? You're saying those five thousand cowards couldn't even hold out for twenty minutes against two thousand demons, and let them break through two of my three defensive lines?"
There was undisguised disdain and contempt in his voice. The question left the troll officer somewhat embarrassed. The Third Burning Legion sounded impressive, but it was really