The battle is over.

The number of casualties was calculated, and the number of dead reached nearly 10,000. Among them, the Knights of the Silver Hand and its regular troops suffered the most heavy losses. These dedicated believers in the Holy Light will always appear in the fiercest battles.

The place, with an unparalleled sense of mission, is willing to sacrifice its own life for justice and noble beliefs.

These people are the most respectable soldiers.

The Silverpine Forest under the sun is still dangerous, and the Scourge in the direction of Lordaeron may still launch another attack.

There was no time to grieve, so the coalition survivors treated their wounds hastily, and after a short rest, they began to clean up the battlefield with the help of the Gilneans.

An open space has been cleared in the center of the battlefield, and layers of firewood have been piled up. Someone is holding an oil can brought by the defenders of Greymane Wall and pouring kerosene on it.

Soldiers in twos and threes dragged and carried the bodies of their comrades solemnly, and then placed the bodies on the firewood with respect. They spliced ​​the broken remains of their comrades, wiped off the blood on their armors, and tried their best to give them a decent appearance.

funeral...

No one spoke during the process.

In order to prevent the remains from being desecrated by natural disasters, the coalition forces had to conduct centralized cremations.

The victims should have had a more dignified burial, so they were transported to the Holy Land of the Knights, the Holy Light's Hope Chapel, and became one of the thousands of souls resting in the underground tombs. There were thousands of mountains and rivers away from this place, making this place

It became an impossible behavior.

"...justice will be done through you,"

"The sublime is explained by you,"

"May the Holy Light always protect your heroic spirits, and may your legacy always illuminate the path forward for all of us..."

"Your sacrifice..."

"Will be remembered forever!"

As corpses were carried here one after another, soldiers from all races gathered around the towering pyre. Whether it was the priests of the Silver Hand, the priests of the blood elves, or the Wildhammer dwarves and orcs, they all

In his own way, he is saying his final prayers.

"No……"

An old paladin with gray hair was anxiously looking for something. After seeing a corpse on the edge of the pyre, he was shaken and ran forward like crazy. He pushed the corpse away and placed it properly.

Several soldiers hugged the young body.

"Townsend? Wake up, son!"

The old paladin held the young man's pale face and called softly. However, he felt that his son's weight was unusually light. With such a hug, he actually lifted his upper body.

Just a "hoo!" sound was heard, and thick blood, internal organ fragments, and purple intestines flowed all over the floor.

The old paladin was stunned, and his eyes slowly moved down, and he saw that his son's body had been cut into two parts, with the lower body still on the ground.

The horrific wound on the corpse's abdomen that penetrated the entire waist and abdomen would not have caused such a horrific scene to occur, but his actions completely destroyed the integrity of the corpse, leaving the last bit of skin, flesh, and bones connected to the corpse's waist and abdomen.

All broken.

The few paladins who carried the body over had no time to stop them, so they sighed secretly and stood quietly behind. In this horrific scene that sent chills down the spine, no one looked away, and no one spoke to do anything useless.

Comfort, because they know that they are facing a father who is experiencing the pain of losing his son.

"No no no no……"

The old paladin was helpless and put his son's upper body back to its original position, picked up the fuzzy flesh and blood, and stuffed it back indiscriminately, while calling for the help of the Holy Light over and over again.

Holy light continued to emerge from his palms, and he tried in vain to heal the young man who had been dead for a long time. However, no matter how hard he tried, the body was still so cold, and the fragments of internal organs and purple intestines were still flowing all over the floor, even with a few knots attached.

Broken vertebrae.

"Townsend..."

"Townsend, no..."

After realizing that his efforts were fruitless, the old paladin threw himself on his son and sobbed softly.

Like the old Paladin, the young man who died in the battle also wore the standard armor of the Silver Hand. It seems that both father and son are members of the Silver Hand. This kind of thing should have been a good talk, but now it happened

The scene where the white-haired man sends the black-haired man away, the father and son are separated forever...

This kind of thing is not unique.

During the Second War fourteen years ago, a large number of brave Alliance soldiers died at the hands of the orcs, and the human generation almost broke apart. After the war, there were almost no young men in their twenties or thirties in the fields.

Most of the workers are men and women with children aged seven or eight.

This old paladin was an honorary veteran of World War II. After the war, he enjoyed peace for more than ten years. However, due to the invasion of natural disasters, he took up arms again and stood together with his twenty-year-old son.

The front line against natural disasters.

Perhaps, in the past few years, this old paladin had been in the Knights of the Silver Hand, just like Tirion Fordring who was exiled at that time, and he proudly witnessed his son being baptized into the Knights.

ceremony.

Until the arrival of natural disasters broke the peaceful life.

In war, death is inevitable, but as a member of the Silver Hand, no one is afraid of sacrifice. As long as the sacrifice is meaningful, it is not a terrible thing.

But the old paladin would not have thought that it was not him who died - Townsend's cold body temperature announced a bloody fact to him - but his son.

"I curse you, Scourge!"

The old paladin looked at his son's pale face, suddenly raised his head to the sky and let out a roar, saying hoarsely:

"I curse you, Holy Light! I curse you -!!!"

His resolute face was already covered with tears. The tears were mixed with blood and mud, and dripped into his son's blood.

With the roar, the holy light flowing on his armor began to dissipate little by little...

Like the church, the Knights of the Silver Hand also have a permanent prosecutorial agency within the Order. The purpose is to judge and sanction those members who have betrayed their oaths and violated the creed they once firmly believed in. Usually such sanctions are based on principles.

Unless a big mistake is made, it will not be carried out. Just like a year ago, during the process of rescuing the orc Eitrigg, Intirion attacked several former comrades and Alliance soldiers, committing a crime that was extremely despised by the people.

Because of the crime of collaborating with the enemy (no one does not hate the orcs to the core), the Knights and the Alliance jointly ruled that he would be charged with treason, deprived of the power of the Holy Light, and expelled from the Knights forever.

But at this time, no one would care about the blasphemous words of this old paladin who lost his beloved son.

The few paladins who carried the body found that the prayer had come to an end and that many soldiers were holding torches high and about to light the firewood tower, so they helped him up together.

"The cremation has begun, Harold. It's...it's time to go..."

…

Fire shot into the sky.

The heat wave hit their faces, and the three commanders of the Knights not far from the fire saw what had just happened, but no one said anything, they just sighed deeply. Under the light of the dancing fire, the expressions of the three of them were a little heavy.

.

Genn Greymane, King of the Kingdom of Gilneas, was beside them.

"Their sacrifice will be remembered." He said solemnly, "What are your plans next?"

Dathrohan glanced at Drek'Thar, who was summoning strong winds to fan the fire, and replied: "According to the original plan of the coalition forces, march eastward to Dalaran and regain the Hillsbrad Hills. After this battle, the natural disasters on Dararan

Laran's control has been weakened a lot. Material support from the Stormwind Kingdom, Khaz Modan Bronzebeard dwarves, and Kul Tiras are on the way. With this material support, we can settle down in the Arathi Highlands.

By recruiting new soldiers from the refugees of Lordaeron, we can continue to fight this protracted war."

Greymane nodded, "I will send troops to Ambermere to guard the mountain passes for you and resist attacks from Silverpine Forest."

His words surprised the three of them and they looked at each other.

Greymane's perfidy was obvious to all. They had already made preparations for the battle, but the king still chose to close the door and watch from the sidelines. He also planned to use some persuasion to explain to him the need to step out of the wall to participate in the war, and then

Let’s fight against natural disasters together.

"Facts have proven that this high wall cannot play its intended role in the face of the Scourge." Greymane looked back at the hole-riddled Greymane Wall and sighed.

In fact, he also understands that this is the case. Once the Scourge attacks Gilneas, even if it is defended by a giant wall, Gilneas's limited military strength will not be able to resist it. The earlier strategic policy of being stagnant was entirely due to the fact that the focus of the Scourge's attack was not in this direction.

.

Angmar changed history and weakened the strength of the North in disguise, making the Kingdom of Gilneas, which was originally a secondary target of the Scourge, become the primary target of attack.

I have to say that the timeline is really not an either/or choice. Faced with one choice after another, you never know what is waiting for you tomorrow. Maybe you have good intentions, but the result is likely to be miserable.

.The combination of various intricate factors makes changing history not an easy task.

"I will unite with you."

Greymane ended the short conversation with a decisive word.

…

At the edge of the forest, in a deserted corner, the tired Angmar stood there with his eyes closed, whether he was meditating or contemplating.

He had just left a group of his fellow mages.

The Strike of Flame showed such power that many members of the coalition, including the Knights of the Silver Hand, cited it as a supreme artifact that could be of great help in future battles. The mage carried out operations on it.

After a lot of research and exploration, I hope that one day I can control the unknown magic of Flame Strike that is beyond the existing knowledge of magic, so that it can once again display its magical power.

But only Angmar knew that the power of time left by "Angemar" on the artifact had been exhausted. It was now just a simple flame strike and no longer special. But he couldn't explain anything to everyone.

We can only let them do what they do.

Suddenly, the temperature in the secluded forest dropped sharply.

A strong female high elf figure "emerged" from Angmar's body.
Chapter completed!