The Alliance of Four needed to send a message. It was time for the other three members to understand that this pact wasn't just ink on parchment—it was forged in iron and blood.
For the Blood Elf race, this demonstration was the first order of business. It was a grim necessity.
"Just wait," a voice whispered in the shadows of the council chamber. "The word will spread fast enough."
"Indeed. The summit for the Alliance of Four is imminent."
The Sixth Layer of the Abyss. The Donough Blood-Crow Nest.
Unlike the subtle maneuvering in the Titanion Realm, war here was visceral, loud, and immediate.
When the Conquest Legion marched, they didn't skirmish; they purged.
Facing them were the Chaos Demons. For these creatures, destruction wasn't a choice—it was a biological imperative. They were unburdened by morality, seeing the world only through a lens of slaughter and gore. They possessed no mercy, only hunger.
