Enter World of Warcraft with Dark Skills

Chapter 189 War and Peace

War is the continuation of political struggle. It is a tragic conflict between two races or organizations due to the competition for interests and living space. In Azeroth, it is no exception.

Of course, this is more of a struggle for power. Power is also a kind of interest.

Tyran Fordring stood quietly at the foot of Mount Hyjal. The wings of holy light behind him gently flapped the air, and wisps of white light spread in the void. He wore the mighty and domineering armor of judgment and the cloak of the Grand Marshal. He leaned a huge sword on the ground with the tip of the sword facing down.

The giant sword no longer has the emblem of Lordaeron on it. Instead, it has become a giant dragon with its mouth opening and spitting out a blade.

It is now called: Flamefury: Blessed Blade of the Life-Binder.

It was forged by the three dragon kings, the red dragon queen Alexstrasza, the blue dragon king Malygos, the green dragon queen Ysera, and the bronze dragon Kronom, with the help of Tyran Fordring.

Behind him are the alliance’s high-ranking generals and legendary heroes.

Four days have passed since Ragnarok. Azeroth has finally welcomed the long-lost peace. All organizations have gained some breathing time. They hide, lick their wounds, suppress their hatred, and accumulate strength for the next fight.

Tyran Fording looked into the distance. The smoke had dispersed, the drizzle had stopped, and the tenacious weeds were the first to sprout on the land after the war. The wounded had long been treated and the bodies had been buried.

Gavinrad, a high-ranking general of the Alliance, leads a team of soldiers to send the bodies of the fallen soldiers back to their new home: Desolace.

A slender figure came into Tailan's sight. She was the former Archbishop of the Silver Hand, Demetia. She resigned from the position of the Silver Hand and became the head of the logistics department. Now she was responsible for the supply of materials and the compensation of the fallen soldiers.

She has completely lost the power of the Holy Light, but her gift of soul-soothing can still help her complete her mission. No one can, and no one dares, lie to her.

Now she was trying to disinfect and change the bandages of an injured infantry soldier. He had a bitter face because of the pain, but he didn't dare to blame the great sage.

"Don't worry, I've lost the Holy Light and can no longer predict anything. I won't tell anyone that you were peeking at me."

You also said that you can't predict the future. You are a very bad girl.

Looking at the face of the young warrior who had lost his left hand, Taelan Fording suddenly thought of a sentence: War is a cruel game in which the ambitious provide weapons, the rich provide food, and a poor child travels thousands of miles to kill another poor child.

Now the game is over, the ambitious have taken back their weapons, the rich have taken back their treasures and land, and are ready to let the poor grow more food for them. The poor can only look for their children's graves.

The world is so unfair, and every world is the same. The wealth of the poor is a loaf of black bread that can kill people, a few copper coins, and a death notice. And the wealth of those high-ranking masters is the poor.

Yesterday, the messenger of King Calia Menethil arrived here. The news of the establishment of the Azeroth Alliance has spread through the ships of Kul Tiras. According to rumors, the new alliance has seized a large area of ​​rich territory. This made some nobles who were taking refuge everywhere smell the scent of gold coins. They can go back to their previous lives.

These people hope to return to the Alliance and continue their old lives. When Tyran Fording heard the news, his first reaction was that the "Homecoming Group" had arrived.

Taelan Fording gave a clear answer: "The Alliance does not need any nobles. This is a multi-racial Alliance country. Everyone has only different divisions of labor, and there is no distinction between high and low personalities."

Given Kalimdor's land area and resource reserves, and with the help of night elf druids and high elf mages, there is no need to worry about living space for a thousand years.

The reason why Tyran Fordring gathered all the generals of the Alliance today was to demonstrate to the dragons, night elves, and orcs. His approach has achieved results, and Thrall and Vol'jin on the opposite side have frowned. The Alliance has now completed its transformation. After experiencing the baptism of a great war, they can cooperate with each other and build trust.

Not to mention the terrifying demigod, the elite minotaur guards in fine armor alone are enough to scare people. The huge totem pole can crush an entire low-level army at any time.

Once the Tauren are supported by powerful resources, they will become an unrivaled war race.

And those pointy-eared high elf mages should not be underestimated. When the night elves officially join the Alliance, the Horde can only hide in Durotan and Darkspear Island and pray that the Alliance will not think of destroying them. Their only room for development is Azshara in the north. And that place is not a good place.

The following process was very boring. The main personnel of each party also changed from warriors and soldiers such as Tyran Fordring, Cairne Bloodhoof, Kael'thas, Saurfang, and Malfurion to Archmage Rommath, Jaina, Demetria, Ip, Malran, Tyrande, and politicians such as Thrall and Vol'jin. Their confrontation was about to begin.

No matter how big the dispute is or how many differences there are, peace is the main theme at present. No one wants to continue fighting. Everyone is exhausted and needs to recuperate, lick their wounds, and accumulate strength.

Taelan Fordring led Kael, Cairne Bloodhoof and Malfurion along the mountain road towards the original site of Nordrassil, chatting as they walked.

This is a customary rule: the bigger the matter, the shorter the report. Big meetings discuss small matters, small meetings discuss big matters.

The seemingly casual walk of these four people will determine the pattern of the entire Kalimdor continent. The fate and life and death of countless races are in their hands.

Malfurion spoke first: "Respected Protector of Nordrassil, Demigod Lord Tyran Fordring, on behalf of the night elves, I apply to join the Alliance of Azeroth. The night elves will help the Alliance protect our world."

Taelan Fordring extended his right hand very formally and shook hands with the archdruid.

"On behalf of the Alliance of Azeroth, and the humans, high elves, tauren, dwarves, gnomes, and some goblin races of the Alliance, I welcome the joining of the Kaldorei."

"The Alliance will protect the lives and territories of the joined races and commit to protecting our world until our Titans awaken from their slumber."

Cairne Bloodhoof and Kael'thas also shook hands with the archdruid in turn.

Malfurion was very satisfied with the performance of this demigod. He was not overbearing at all, and the parliamentary system of the Alliance was also very suitable for the social form of the Kaldorei.

Malfurion knew that the matter had been settled, but there was still one problem to be solved. That was Silithus.

The fall of Anachronos was not entirely his own fault. The crisis of the Old Gods was imminent, and they were running out of time.

C'Thun is about to awaken.

Silithus is the next Mount Hyjal, and who knows how many more Alliance warriors will be stained with blood in the quicksand.

Volume 3: Ragnarok

(End of this chapter)