Azeroth Monster Manual

PS: The chapter name is wrong, it should be Chapter 213. I can't change it in the backend, so here's a patch.

"Prophet, how is the progress?"

The speaker was a blue-skinned troll with a hunched back but an unusually strong build. He was one of the tribe's only two berserkers, named Bartok, and the leader of this Frostmane troll army.

"The snow mountain has not yet responded to my call."

The one who answered was the most respected prophet of the Frostmane tribe, possessing the ability to communicate with the elements and ancestors.

From the tone of their conversation, one could hear their urgency and anxiety, which was understandable. It had been a full 28 hours since they plundered from Kharanos, and they still had a considerable distance to their destination - the Dagger Hills.

Distance was only a minor issue. For trolls with long legs and feet, they could easily surpass most intelligent creatures in the same amount of time. For races with natural height disadvantages like dwarves and gnomes, trolls even had two to three times their speed and endurance.

The real problem was the narrow passage between the two peaks in front of them, which was almost completely buried by overnight snow. If they wanted to pass through this secret path, they could only use some 'unnatural' means.

And this also highlighted the importance of the prophet (shaman).

The cunning Bartok naturally had his own plans for taking this rarely visited mountain path...

The berserker's pair of bright red eyes involuntarily looked back. Behind him were his personal guards. Even as personal guards, the equipment of these trolls could only be described as 'simple', and the situation of the remaining troll 'soldiers' was even more imaginable.

This blue army, plus the captured dwarf prisoners, was almost 70,000 strong. But if you looked closely, this army, or rather, rabble, had extremely poor equipment.

A bare upper body was already the norm, and the coverage rate of armor was less than 10%. And those armored 'elites' could only be described as barely satisfactory. Ragged half-body armor, fragmented knee and wrist guards. Shields were even scarcer, and some strong trolls even used doors as their shields.

As for weapons, half of the 50,000-strong 'army' was empty-handed, and those who had weapons were even more outrageous. Stones, wooden sticks, rusty firewood knives, or wine bottles and wooden table legs taken from who knows where could all become their weapons...

It was hard to imagine that Kharanos, one of the dwarven strongholds, was destroyed by such a mob.

...

"Crack..."

After a burst of earth-shattering movement, the narrow passage between the two peaks widened slightly, and the white snow slid down the cliffs on both sides of the passage, making a 'whooshing' sound.

Bartok supported the tottering prophet, his face full of ecstasy. Although the passage only widened by less than five fingers' distance, it was enough for the army to barely pass through.

"As long as we pass through this mountain range, the food, weapons, and precious ores of those dwarves will be in the bag of our Frostmane!"

The berserker suppressed the impulse in his heart and ordered his most 'elite' guards to enter the narrow passage in front of him, and the army behind him slowly advanced as time passed.

...

After a short rest, Al's army of 50,000 set out again on their journey to aid the Dagger Hills.

The sky was already bright, and the warm winter sun shone on the soldiers, dispelling a trace of fatigue and cold. Al did not choose to march at full speed, but deliberately controlled the speed of the army's advance.

Looking at the map, they were less than half a day away from the Dagger Hills. There was no need to exhaust the soldiers' energy and strength for this half-day.

Conserve energy and build up strength, strive to face the main force of the Frostmane trolls head-on, and do everything possible to kill the trolls' living strength in one fell swoop. This was Al's strategy, simple and effective.

The reason for this consideration was not that Al was arrogant, nor that he did not understand how to fight, but that the dwarves had a natural advantage.

First of all, there was the issue of military strength. Along the way, thanks to Hermit's superb tracking skills, Al still caught a few lone 'tongues'.

Facts have proved that even the most steely-hearted hard men cannot resist the strange and unpredictable nature of magic.

So, under the interrogation of the 'professional' Al, these unlucky guys finally confessed everything they knew.

But unfortunately, the energy level of these tongues was too low. They did not know some of the core plans of this Frostmane army, only the name of the leader and the situation of the companions around him.

Although the amount of information obtained was minimal, Al was still able to deduce the general situation of this rabble from the information provided by these unlucky guys.

Hungry, tired, poorly equipped, but with extremely high resilience and strong fighting spirit. The leader is a berserker named Bartok, and there is also a rare Frostmane prophet in the army.

This was all the information Al deduced. Although there were slight deviations, it was very close to the truth.

Secondly, there was the issue of the marching route. It should be known that the dwarves have ruled Khaz Modan (roughly, although not directly stated, the gnomes can be regarded as an affiliated race of the dwarves) for nearly a thousand years, and the hardworking and brave sons of Bronzebeard have deeply cultivated this hot land.

In addition to Kharanos, which connects many transportation routes, the entire Dun Morogh has no less than five hundred large and small outposts and passes.

This also means that those sneaky Frostmane trolls can only walk between the snow mountains and cannot openly pass through the passes set up by the dwarves.

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, which is an unchanging truth. Even if the Frostmane trolls set off earlier, Al's army will definitely catch up with them before the trolls reach the Dagger Hills. This is also the reason why Al is not in a hurry and asks the soldiers to conserve their energy.

"Strange, I thought the equipment of this troll army was very poor, but I didn't expect that their equipment was so poor..."

Al sat on a strong mountain goat, his head lowered, constantly deducing in his mind. The bumpy road did not interrupt his thinking, but made his thoughts clearer.

"Mentor, what are you thinking about?"

Rommath and Kael'thas caught up with the boy's pace on the left and right, seeing the mentor's frowning look, Kael'thas couldn't help but feel a little worried.

"Oh, it's Kael."

The boy woke up from the Hall of Memories, looked at the undisguised worry on the faces of the two apprentices, and Al nodded slightly with relief.

"Commander, is there anything bothering you? This troll is just a mob, we just need to press the army and we can completely destroy these scumbags."

Muradin rode his armored black mountain goat, laughing loudly as he approached the three.

Looking at the three people who tightly 'wrapped' him, Al couldn't help but shake his head and smile. But at this moment, a flash of inspiration suddenly appeared in the boy's mind, and a trace of ominous emotion gradually surged into his heart.

“No, no, something must be wrong.”

Ignoring the confused gazes of the crowd, Ayr began to think hard.

One clue after another was constantly being 'replayed' in the Hall of Memory.

From the information Kudran gleaned during his reconnaissance, to the information provided by several captured tongues, Ayr magnified all the details and carefully deduced the situation.

“With an army of 50,000, plus nearly 20,000 prisoners, unless they are lunatics, these blue skins wouldn't be foolish enough to attack the Frozen Soil Ridge, which is even harder to conquer than Flashpoint Ridge.

Where exactly is the problem?

Could it be that these blue skins want to use the 20,000 dwarven prisoners as cannon fodder to attack the city?

But that doesn't make sense.

Ignoring the problem of the prisoners' unwillingness to work, do they really think that the defenders of Frozen Soil Ridge would allow this to happen?

When necessary, these prisoners could even all be…”

His brain raced, and the more Ayr thought, the closer he got to the hazy truth.

Just then, the armor of Muradin's Rock Ram made a heavy metallic clanging sound on the bumpy road.

The young man looked up and saw the three pairs of eyes focused on him.

“Not good!”

Ayr yanked on the reins, and the stout Rock Ram beneath him instantly reared up, letting out a piercing cry.

“What's wrong?”

“What happened?”

Brian and Hermit and the others, hearing the noise, rushed over to inquire.

“Damn it, messenger!”

Ayr shouted, and the sudden burst of decisiveness startled the legendary figures, causing them all to dismount and stand up straight in unison.

“Commander!”

The messenger, who had been waiting nearby, arrived in front of Ayr in a flash, giving a crisp military salute.

“Send my order: Forced march 500 miles, everyone move at full speed, target the Frozen Soil Ridge Pass!”

As soon as Ayr's order was issued, everyone, including the messenger, was shocked.

However, in light of the previous examples of King Muradin and Brian, no one dared to challenge the young commander.

Just as the messenger was almost out of sight, Ayr's loud shout stopped him again.

“Tell everyone to move at full speed.

Those who can't keep up are allowed to drop out, but I need them to gather at the farm before evening!”

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“Yes! Commander!”

Sensing Ayr's violent aura, the messenger didn't dare to delay and ran away like a gust of wind in the eyes of everyone.

“Let's go, we need to speed up!”

Without waiting for everyone to react, Ayr pulled on the reins and rode the Rock Ram, taking the lead and galloping towards the predetermined direction.

The others didn't dare to neglect and quickly followed Ayr's pace.

Thus, the long dragon-like team began to accelerate.

One hour, two hours, until three hours later, someone finally couldn't keep up with the speed of the vanguard and began to fall behind.

Four hours, five hours, the number of people falling behind increased.

The army of 50,000 was completely divided, forming more than a dozen large and small groups.

Ayr's Imperial Guards and Musketeer Battalion closely followed the vanguard.

These dwarven soldiers were undoubtedly the most elite, and their endurance was the longest.

Six hours later…

Looking at the gradually clear outline of the majestic pass in front of him, Ayr couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, but looking back at the army behind him, which had less than 20,000 people left, his brows furrowed again.

“Messenger!”

“Yes, Commander!”

“Send my order: After reaching Frozen Soil Ridge (Pass), the entire army will rest in place for fifteen minutes.

After fifteen minutes, continue the forced march!”

Before he finished speaking, Ayr grabbed the bewildered Muradin and instantly activated an unstable short-range teleportation gate.

“Ah!”

Muradin screamed, and before he could react, he found himself on the battlements of Frozen Soil Ridge.

The dwarven soldiers on duty on the city wall were startled and hurriedly blew the horn hanging on their chests.

The dwarves were very fast.

In a short while, a squad of soldiers in full armor rushed to the city wall and surrounded Ayr and Muradin.

“Who are you… Ah, it's King!

You bunch of idiots, quickly put down the ballista, quickly put it down!”

When the guard commander saw Muradin's face clearly, he almost fell to the ground.

He hurriedly ordered the soldiers to put down their weapons.

Ayr didn't blame the abruptness of the dwarven soldiers, but said very quickly:

“Long story short, I am the commander appointed by His Majesty Magni, and Lord Muradin can vouch for me.”

Hearing Ayr's words, Muradin hurriedly nodded.

The guard commander, who had been looking suspicious, couldn't help but lower his guard after seeing his King's expression.

“Do you know about the fall of Kalanos?”

“What!? How could Kalanos…”

Seeing the guard commander's horrified and grief-stricken expression, Ayr was finally able to confirm his guess.

He didn't give the distraught commander time to calm down, but cast a Clarity spell to quickly restore his composure.

“How many people do you have on hand now?”

“Twenty thousand.”

“Very good, leave three thousand to garrison, and all the other soldiers will go with me to Frozen Stone Farm.”

Hearing Ayr's words, the commander hesitated obviously, but when he saw Muradin's affirmative eyes, he immediately became firm.

“Yes, Commander!”

The guard commander gave a military salute and went to organize the army.

“Commander, you…”

Looking at the commander's hurried back, Muradin couldn't help but feel a little confused, but with a 'previous record,' he was too embarrassed to ask the questions in his heart directly.

Ayr seemed to see his embarrassment, but didn't mean to answer anything.

…

Half an hour later, the 20,000 troops on forced march entered Frozen Soil Ridge and began to rest in place.

Fifteen minutes later, the 15,000 dwarven soldiers guarding the pass joined forces with the 20,000 elite soldiers and ended their rest, marching towards Frozen Stone Farm.

Along the way, everyone looked at the pensive Ayr with hesitation, but no one dared to raise their questions.

Ayr seemed to see their doubts and confusion and began his explanation.

“I believe you have guessed something, but there are still many doubts, right?”

Hearing Ayr's question, everyone nodded like chickens pecking rice, even the old dwarf with muscles in his brain looked at the young man expectantly, waiting for his answer.

“It's still the saying that those involved are confused.

We were wrong from the beginning, but fortunately, there is still time to make up for it.

Imagine 50,000 stragglers plus 20,000 prisoners.

They didn't even dare to attack Flashpoint Ridge, so what courage do they have to attack Frozen Soil Ridge, this majestic city?”

As soon as the young man finished speaking, everyone was silent, as if a flash of inspiration had appeared.

Even Hermit vaguely sensed the problem.