The Antoran Wastes were swept by a pungent sulfurous wind. To avoid prolonged exposure to the polluted air, Hatuun invited Velen and Arthas into the tent they had set up.
Inside the tent, the air was noticeably fresher.
Velen glanced at the magic circles around the tent. He knew that establishing such a purification ritual would surely be a significant drain on the Broken, which made him somewhat concerned.
As Velen's old friend and follower, Hatuun understood exactly what the Prophet was thinking. "Don't worry about us. We've been struggling on this planet for so long that we've developed our own set of survival rules."
"In places far from the Antoran Wastes, we don't need to bother setting up these magic circles, but the pollution in the Antoran Wastes is simply too severe. Such a purification ritual is good for all of us."
As ancient descendants of the Eredar, Hatuun's people had their living space repeatedly compressed by the Legion demons. Fortunately, the demons' main stronghold was in the distant Antoran Wastes, and they themselves had learned how to survive in Argus's environment, which allowed them to persevere through all these years.
Although Krokuun was also overrun with demons, and suffered from a lack of water and food, compared to the Antoran Wastes, which had become a demon armory, it still offered some space for other life to barely cling on.
The Broken led by Hatuun had waged a ten-thousand-year struggle against the Burning Legion on the land of Krokuun. It was not until Velen's Holy Light once again shone on Argus, and Hatuun sensed Kil'jaeden's death, that he decided to lead his people to seize this opportunity and completely overthrow the demons' rule.
However, this was absolutely impossible for the Broken of Argus alone. Hatuun's people lacked weapons, food, and medicine. All war-related supplies were difficult to replenish on Krokuun. Yet, they did not lack the will or manpower to fight the demons. Years of battling demons had turned the Broken into an almost entirely military populace. If they hadn't done so, it would have been very difficult to survive the demons' encirclement.
"I will help you with all my might, Hatuun," Velen said firmly, expressing his thoughts. "I can procure all the supplies you need from the Exodar and the other few fortress ships."
Velen knew that although Hatuun still harbored resentment over his departure, as a leader, he would likely accept his good intentions.
"Don't worry too much, Hatuun, this was my idea, and the people of the Exodar will welcome you. Although I may no longer be worthy to be the leader you follow, I still want to do everything I can to help you."
"Let's not, Velen. We can accept the supplies, but we can no longer stand with the Eredar... or rather, the Draenei."
Hatuun waved his hand, self-mockingly running it over his skin. His bluish-black skin was covered in the fel pollution. These Broken had been twisted by the chaotic forces of Argus. Although their hearts had not yet fallen, their bodies were increasingly resembling demons.
Even Hatuun himself worried that perhaps one day, when he woke up, his defiled bloodline would completely transform him into a demon, no different from the Eredar.
Velen fell silent. He knew that being twisted into the Broken was not actually contagious through physical contact. However, for these Broken, who had lived among demons for so long, the scars in their hearts were far more painful than those of the Draenei twisted into the Broken after Draenor's destruction. They themselves could not bear to stand with their kin who still maintained their noble appearance.
"Let's leave these matters here, Velen," Hatuun did not want to continue the topic. He looked at Arthas beside him and asked, "Now, we're more interested in what else we can do for our planet."
"I have witnessed your valiant struggle, King of Humans. The bravery of the people of Azeroth reminds me of twenty-five thousand years ago, when we rose up against the executioners sent by Kil'jaeden. Unfortunately, that time, we failed."
"Then let's not fail again, Chief Hatuun."
Arthas unrolled a map on the table. It was a recently drawn topographic map of Antoran. As the Azeroth flew along Argus, it conducted preliminary surveys of the surrounding terrain to aid the Alliance commanders in directing operations.
"What do you need us to do?"
Hatuun asked directly.
"It's actually quite simple. I need you to use your familiarity with the terrain to eliminate the demons attempting to enter the Antoran Wastes as reinforcements."
The entirety of Argus had already become a demon's paradise, but the Antoran Wastes were home to more high-ranking members of the Burning Legion, mostly Legion officers and technicians. More inferior demon cannon fodder was scattered throughout Argus. With the Antoran Wastes' teleportation network temporarily cut off, they could only reach here by the most primitive means.
By now, the demon reinforcements should be arriving soon.
Arthas's finger traced several key passes on the map. "There are almost no passable roads around the Antoran Wastes, but for creatures like demons, they can quickly disregard such harsh terrain. Our army will not fully enter Antorus. The remaining forces will defend the most vulnerable points of entry for these demons alongside you."
Hatuun quickly scanned the areas Arthas pointed to, rapidly comparing the map's depiction with his memory of Argus's terrain. "We have no problem."
"Very good. May I ask if you can spare some professional guides to act as consultants for our army? After all, you should be more familiar with the terrain of Argus."
"That's also not a problem, but our people might... not be so easy to get along with. You'd best be prepared."
Hatuun hesitated for a rare moment, thinking of the members within his clan. "But you are all heroes who fought against the demons. I will make them obey your regulations."
Arthas also understood that it was extremely difficult for a group of reclusive people, struggling daily on the brink of death, to suddenly accept kindness from others, especially since these Broken almost all had a tendency towards self-loathing.
Even this seemingly rational Hatuun, Arthas could feel the burning fire within him. It was not only hatred for the demons, but also resentment towards Velen's long absence and the ten thousand years of suffering endured by the Eredar descendants.
But it was precisely these emotions that allowed them to maintain their identity and independently reach this point today.
Arthas admired the fighting spirit of these Broken and felt sympathy for their fate. However, before everything was settled, Arthas still had a cruel truth to tell them.
Only, to Arthas's surprise, Velen stopped Arthas first. The old man nodded gently, "Let me tell him, Your Majesty."
Hatuun looked at the two in confusion. Although he didn't know why Velen showed such respect for the young Arthas, he was willing to trust Velen's judgment—even while harboring resentment towards Velen, he couldn't completely dismiss his own reason.
After the combined forces penetrated deep into Antorus, the sheer complexity and grandeur of this fortress, the Burning Legion's armory in the cosmos, left everyone in awe.
Dense networks of pipes extended into passages in all directions, transporting an immense, indescribable amount of energy every single second. This energy was transformed resources that the Burning Legion had extracted and squeezed from every corner of the universe over countless eons.
Although the equipment and power supply lines were complex, they were not chaotic. Clearly, these demons were not the chaotic, disorder-loving beings people usually imagined them to be. They were highly intelligent extra-dimensional creatures who had long ago established countless unimaginable structures and wonders in another plane outside the real universe.
Yet, no one marveled at such creations, because everyone knew that these intricate structures were all used for the Legion's endless conquest and devastation. The more advanced and sophisticated their technology, the less peace there would be for all living beings in the entire universe.
And today, they had a chance to utterly destroy the Burning Legion's war machine.
The combined forces entering the fortress quickly occupied passages and checkpoints, physically preventing the gates from closing, and once again engaged in fierce tug-of-war battles with the demons.
The Scourge continued to play a crucial role in the entire combined force. The undead charged fearlessly, giving the combined forces more breathing room and making it easier for them to utilize their strengths.
However, at this point, their progress was not as easy as it had been outside the fortress.
Firstly, they lacked air support, and fighting in more complex terrain was already a challenge for them. Secondly, a large number of demons still occupied the interior of Antorus, along with many pre-established defensive measures, making the combined forces' advance incredibly difficult.
"Stop these damned skeletons!"
Erodus furiously issued commands from the command center. He hadn't expected that while he was seeking reinforcements, the outer defenses would already be breached, and the invaders would penetrate deep into the fortress, beginning to destroy their facilities.
Although for the demons, time and construction costs were not major issues, no matter how little they cared about these facilities, they still required a significant amount of time and resources to build. And the more losses incurred, the greater the chance of that responsibility falling on him.
"Sphrackse, think of something! Kil'jaeden is dead, and there's a big problem at the teleportation hall. This mess will most likely fall on both of our heads! I'd rather die in battle than experience the methods of the Coven!"
"Quiet, I'm trying to gather the demons wandering on the Argus plains."
Sphrackse understood that relying on the Burning Legion's navy at this point was unrealistic. Although their fleet and firepower were indeed enough to turn the tide of battle, the remaining fleets of the Burning Legion were all out of reach, and she understood the saying that distant water cannot quench a nearby thirst.
The only thing they could rely on now was the local forces of Argus.
However, Sphrackse's plan was not going smoothly. When the demons attempting to enter the Antoran Wastes were attacked by the Broken, Sphrackse realized that the enemy had already anticipated this.
The Legion's Naval Commander's face turned ashen. "Now it's really over; reinforcements won't be able to reach us anytime soon."
But they hadn't reached their wit's end yet. Sphrackse still had a countermeasure. "Never mind, I didn't expect those cannon fodder to be of much use anyway. Have Kin'garoth release all his toys to stop these mortals' advance first."
Erodus had also intended to do the same. After Sphrackse and he quickly agreed, the constructs and weapon prototypes controlled by Kin'garoth, the Legion's weapon designer, were unleashed.
Although a significant portion of them were still in early design stages, no one would underestimate the threat of these weapons, created solely for slaughter and destruction.
"Also, have that fellow Imonar trip up these mortals. I don't want to see their commanders continuing to fight on the battlefield."
"Exactly what I was thinking."
Erodus smiled and pressed a button, and a hoarse, deep voice quickly responded on the other end of the communication.
"Can the heads of those mortals also fetch a bounty?"
"What time is it, and you're still thinking about bounties? — Never mind, as long as you can paralyze their command system, the Council of Commanders won't shortchange you."
Erodus had a headache. Some high-ranking demons in the Legion, though powerful, were also quite difficult to deal with due to their independent ways. In fact, the most exceptional among them dared to ignore all commands except those issued by Sargeras.
Imonar the Soulhunter was considered one of the easier ones to talk to. At least if you assigned him a task and the reward was appropriate, he would complete it efficiently for you.
"Wait… I suddenly noticed a problem. Where did those Nathrezim go?"
After contacting Imonar, Sphrackse suddenly realized that a certain component of the Legion seemed to have completely lost its presence in this war.
And this was quite strange, because the Nathrezim always liked to employ their schemes and tricks in such wars, rarely missing such an occasion.
Especially their leader, Tichondrius, the most terrifying Dreadlord apart from Archimonde and Kil'jaeden.
But when Antorus was invaded, these Dreadlords vanished from the Legion as if they had evaporated into thin air, without a trace, and not even Erodus and Sphrackse noticed.
The expressions of the two instantly turned ugly.
"Was it magic that altered our perception? How dare these bastards do such a thing?! Are they not afraid of being punished by the Lord of the Legion?"
The two members of the Council of Commanders, belatedly, finally discovered the magic the Dreadlords had cast upon them, or rather, upon the Nathrezim race.
"These cunning great bats!" After Erodus crushed the magic entwined around him, he immediately realized that these Nathrezim had vanished from their posts without a trace.
No wonder the Antoran Wastes fell so quickly. Without a large number of Nathrezim, who were crucial commanders, significant loopholes appeared in the demons' tactics.
"This is too strange… Why would these bats commit such an act of betrayal at this time?"
Compared to Erodus's anger, Sphrackse, after dispelling the influence of the Nathrezim's magic, felt an inexplicable sense of absurdity and unease well up within her.
Did these Dreadlords foresee something and choose to collectively escape at this time, or were they never truly aligned with the Legion from the very beginning?
Was the Burning Legion truly as Sargeras claimed, entirely obedient to his command?
The two Burning Legion Commanders felt a very ominous premonition at this moment. The duplicitous nature of the Nathrezim was notorious even within the Legion, but at a time like this, they ignored Sargeras's deterrence and collectively fled. This immediately made Erodus and Sphrackse realize that things seemed to be slowly slipping out of their control.
However, Sphrackse and Erodus had some disagreements on how to handle this matter.
Sphrackse was a little hesitant, she was inclined to report it truthfully. "Should we report this matter? Since Lord Sargeras hasn't reacted yet, perhaps he's also being kept in the dark."
But Erodus rolled his eyes and sneered, "Who's going? You?"
Sphrackse instantly fell silent. She knew that reporting this matter meant taking a huge risk; Sargeras's wrath could very likely fall upon the two of them.
After all, they were the Commander Council of the Burning Legion, yet they had completely failed to detect the defection of their subordinates. By any logic, they couldn't extricate themselves from this matter.
At this moment, the two members of the Commander Council realized with a start that they had become the scapegoats in the Dreadlords' conspiracy.
"These damned bats, they're so sure we wouldn't report it immediately?!" Sphrackse cursed aloud. With things having reached this point, whether they reported it or not, both of them would suffer.
Although filled with resentment towards the Nathrezim, Sphrackse ultimately weighed the pros and cons.
"No, we can't follow the bats' plan. We must report this to our master," Sphrackse made up her mind. She instructed Erodus, "All deployable troops are yours to command. The front-line battle is yours; I'm going into the Burning Throne."
Erodus looked at the command authority Sphrackse handed over to him and was stunned. "Are you crazy, Sphrackse?"
Sphrackse sneered, "I'm perfectly clear-headed. The situation has reached this point; whatever we do, we'll be on the defensive. But if you follow the Dreadlords' intentions, I'm certain our fate will be even more tragic."
Erodus fell silent, for he knew Sphrackse was right. The Nathrezim were insidious, cunning, and skilled in all sorts of schemes. They had gone to great lengths to cast spells of cognitive concealment and reduced presence on their entire race, so they surely had a motive.
And at this moment, as Sphrackse said, their only chance for a slightly better outcome was to do the opposite, not to actively step into the trap the Dreadlords had left for them.
"If I am punished for this, then I accept it. This time, the Legion has suffered an unprecedented defeat. Even if Lord Kil'jaeden were still alive, he wouldn't escape the Legion Lord's punishment."
A resentful light flickered in Sphrackse's eyes. She certainly didn't want to endure the terrible tortures of the Coven of Shivarra, but she even less wanted to be inexplicably played by someone and then suffer immensely.
"Those mortals think they've won by invading Antorus? No, I'll let them know that everything has just begun."
She could no longer find the Nathrezim to trouble them. After so long, who knew where those slippery fellows had fled to, but the arrival of the mortals had also contributed to this situation, and Sphrackse's hatred undoubtedly spread to the mortals.
---
"The Legion was truly careless, suffering such heavy losses and allowing a large number of mortals to enter Antorus."
Imonar the Soulhunter, a renowned bounty hunter in the Legion, unlike other demons who followed Legion commands, this ruthless killer always preferred to act alone and was highly goal-oriented. His targets were always opponents for whom the Legion had placed high bounties.
However, the Commander Council's proposal this time was truly tempting. Imonar only needed to eliminate a few mortal commanders to obtain a large amount of bounty, which was a very cost-effective deal for him.
As a master hunter, he easily evaded the mortal soldiers' eyes and ears; even the undead couldn't sense his presence. Imonar lurked in the shadows, like he had completely merged with them, moving swiftly through the shadows of Antorus.
After observing for a while, Imonar realized that killing a few mortal commanders seemed to have no effect at all. These allied forces had a very meticulous command system, and the absence of a few commanders would not affect their efficiency.
But this did not mean Imonar had no way to proceed.
Imonar noticed something: compared to mortals, it was these undead who relied more on the command of high-ranking officers.
Without a general's command, the undead were likely to go berserk due to the disruption of their connection. Compared to a group of cold, efficient killing machines, Imonar felt the Commander Council would be more receptive to a group of mad but disordered undead.
"Interesting, let me see who the commander of these undead is."
Imonar followed the connections between the undead, tracing the soul links. As his tall figure swept past the mortal lines, he was like a swift wind, silently infiltrating the areas lost by the demons.
However, his path forward was still met with some obstacles. Imonar looked at the defensive line that had been established before him; the exorcism spells operating within it would increase the probability of him being discovered.
But the internal roads of Antorus were interconnected, and even if the allied forces had the upper hand, they couldn't control all the passages in a short time. Imonar eventually found a path leading to the outside.
After leaving the fortress, Imonar was about to continue following the magical traces when he was quickly drawn to the commotion coming from a cliffside below.
Imonar looked in that direction; a large amount of magical radiance shone within a cave at the base of a cliff, surrounded by noisy shouts.
"Quick! Control these two beasts!"
"They're devouring our spells... Damn it, separate the two of them!"
"Don't let them get too close! Those strange magical energies are healing their wounds!"
Listening to the mortals' exchanges, Imonar realized who they were fighting—two Felhounds burning with twisted magic, Sargeras's beloved pets.
The Legion Lord had infused these two beloved "puppies" with fire and shadow, turning them into terrifying magical creatures. Their brutal nature also became more pronounced due to the expansion of magical energy; even demons who mistakenly entered their lair would be treated as food delivered to their mouths.
These two hounds had always been kept in the cliffside caves on the outskirts of Antorus, serving both as guard dogs and to prevent these not-so-intelligent beasts from causing destruction within Antorus.
Imonar watched the allied forces members battling the hounds, a cruel smile appearing on his gray face beneath his hood. He thought of an excellent idea to cause enough chaos.
And by doing so, he might be able to wait for his target to appear without expending effort.