"Wake up, wake up, Marshal Maxwell! Damn it, heal him quickly!"
Whoosh—swish—
"Marshal! Marshal! They're charging again!"
Marshal Maxwell awoke as if from a dream, his dazed mind returning to his body.
He had no idea how long he had been leading the battle. He now had several broken arrows embedded in his body, the blood from some wounds had already dried, his armor was stained with blood, and his sharp greatsword was full of nicks.
"Cough—cough!" Marshal Maxwell coughed violently twice, his body swaying slightly. The soldiers beside him quickly helped him steady himself.
"How many of us are left?"
Marshal Maxwell's chest heaved violently. The high-intensity battle had not only left him battered and exhausted but also extremely mentally fatigued.
The other soldiers who were still alive and holding this pass were in a similar state to Marshal Maxwell, some even worse.
"We have about a hundred men left, Marshal!"
A hundred men?
Marshal Maxwell bit the tip of his tongue, letting the pain stimulate his already numb nerves again. "Have everyone who can still move gather here!"
After speaking, he pushed away the soldier supporting him, snapped off an arrow in his right shoulder, and casually tossed it aside. "Be quick, the enemy won't wait for us."
Before Marshal Maxwell was a chaotic, corpse-strewn battlefield. The once-wide canyon was now blocked by large and small fallen rocks, and the orcs' army was thus obstructed.
Due to the narrow terrain, the Blackrock Orcs were both assaulting Marshal Maxwell's defense line and clearing a path for their subsequent main army, which doubled the time spent.
And it was precisely because the Blackrock Orcs' forces were diverted that the defense line formed by hundreds of Stormwind soldiers was not instantly breached.
Although there was still no sign of Stormwind's main forces arriving, Marshal Maxwell still did not give up on holding the line. The soldiers continued to use the pass's defensive fortifications, stubbornly repelling the Blackrock Orcs' attacks again and again.
However, it seemed their time was running out.
After several major battles, although the Blackrock Orcs' offensive was repelled, Marshal Maxwell's men also paid a heavy price. Now, only a little over a hundred men remained, and those who were still alive were basically all wounded, having reached their limit.
Moreover, as Marshal Maxwell was preparing to organize their defense again, several loud Wyrmling roars entered his ears. The Marshal's expression changed, and he shouted to his soldiers, "Find cover, quickly!"
The soldiers only froze for a moment because they didn't see enemy arrows or thrown weapons and didn't realize they needed to evade. But it was this brief moment of hesitation that several scorching Wyrmling breaths descended from the sky. In the blink of an eye, more than a dozen soldiers became burning torches.
Immediately, screams and wails erupted. The comrades of the soldiers ignited by the Wyrmling breath immediately prepared to help them extinguish the flames, but how could magic-infused fire be so easily put out?
A struggle and an attempt to put out the fire, instead, caused several more soldiers who hadn't sought cover to become targets for the Blackrock Orcs' Wyrmling riders.
Soldiers hiding behind cover picked up their hand crossbows and short muskets, firing at the Chromatic Wyrmlings in the sky. But the scattered arrows and bullets could not threaten the high-flying Wyrmling riders at all.
Marshal Maxwell saw the orcs about to charge below the pass, while his soldiers were suppressed by the Wyrmling breath and couldn't lift their heads. In a moment of urgency, he stepped on a protrusion on the edge of the high wall, unleashing a powerful burst of strength that allowed him to leap into the air.
A Blackrock Orc riding a Wyrmling didn't notice that someone behind him would dare to jump out of cover. Marshal Maxwell's greatsword steadily pierced his body. Immediately after, Marshal Maxwell grabbed the Wyrmling's reins and kicked the Orc off the Wyrmling.
The Blackrock Orc, with Marshal Maxwell's greatsword, tumbled off the saddle. Although the safety rope tied to the Wyrmling prevented him from falling, Marshal Maxwell's sword had indeed struck a vital spot.
Pulling out his short sword, he cut the Blackrock Wyrmling rider's safety rope with one swing. Watching the dying Orc fall from high in the sky, Marshal Maxwell breathed a slight sigh of relief.
But Marshal Maxwell wasn't just trying to kill a Wyrmling rider. The equally wounded Marshal gritted his teeth and pulled on the reins of the Chromatic Wyrmling. These experimental products used for combat might not be fully controllable yet; their eyes were covered by blindfolds, relying entirely on the rider in the saddle for direction.
The Wyrmling also sensed the struggle on its back. It instinctively tried to flip in the air, attempting to throw off the enemy who had jumped onto its back.
But its movements were a bit slow. Marshal Maxwell had already kicked the Wyrmling rider off and secured himself in the saddle, so the Wyrmling's flip had no effect.
At this point, Marshal Maxwell had already tightened his grip on the reins. He had never ridden a Wyrmling before and could only control the Chromatic Wyrmling beneath him using his experience riding griffons. As a result, the Wyrmling's flight path became erratic, and it soon collided with another Wyrmling rider.
The Orc gripped a short-handled axe, intending to chop off Marshal Maxwell's head, but Marshal Maxwell reacted faster. He dangerously ducked, and as he rose, he used his short sword to slash upwards, disemboweling the Blackrock Wyrmling rider.
The Wyrmling beneath this Blackrock Wyrmling rider also suffered an impact, and combined with Marshal Maxwell's erratic control, the Chromatic Wyrmling beneath him spewed a breath of Wyrmling fire that directly hit one of the enemy mount's wings. The Wyrmling rider and his mount immediately fell from the sky together.
The chaos Marshal Maxwell created in the air bought valuable maneuvering space for the soldiers below. They looked at the corpses of their tragically fallen comrades, grief welling up within them, and their immense sorrow instantly transformed into fury.
As soon as the Blackrock Orcs, who had climbed the high wall to contend for its ownership with the humans, showed their heads, they were met with a fierce assault from Stormwind soldiers, leaving them no ground to stand on.
However, the orcs were not to be trifled with. After being caught somewhat off guard in their initial assault, they launched a bloody and furious counterattack. The top of the high wall became a brutal meat grinder, with orcs and humans falling every second.
But the number of orcs was many times that of the defenders. Soon, the pass defenders began to be stretched thin, and many gaps appeared in their defenses.
Marshal Maxwell had just dealt with several Wyrmlings in the air. When he noticed the situation below, he immediately realized that if he didn't do something soon, the city wall would quickly fall!
With the piloting skills he had just temporarily learned, Marshal Maxwell turned the Wyrmling's head and unleashed a stream of Wyrmling fire onto the densest parts of the orcs, the scorching flames finally giving the orcs a taste of their own medicine. They screamed as they fell from the city wall.
And because the orcs' formation was very dense, some unlucky ones were affected by the burning individuals, and soon a large number of burning orcs were crashing around or falling from the city wall like headless flies.
Marshal Maxwell's "air support" finally alleviated the pressure on the defenders, and they began to drive the orcs off the city wall in one fell swoop.
The Chromatic Wyrmling was equally reckless in the sky at this moment. orcs did not like to carry ranged weapons, and thrown axes and spears posed no threat to the Chromatic Wyrmling's tough scales at that height.
However, Marshal Maxwell couldn't stay in the sky providing cover for his subordinates indefinitely. Soon, this unusually behaved Wyrmling caught the attention of the main Blackrock Orc forces.
"Woshjagas! Take down that stolen Chromatic Wyrmling! Don't let it keep attacking our soldiers!"
Shadow Hunter Woshjagas heard Warchief Red's shout, leaped onto the top of a giant rock, drew his longbow, and dark Arcane energy surged on the arrowhead.
Even if a normal arrow hit a vital spot, it wouldn't necessarily instantly incapacitate a resilient Chromatic Wyrmling's ability to fly. But Woshjagas had imbued his arrow with dark, evil voodoo, which would devour any life it touched.
With the faint twang of the bowstring, an arrow with a black-purple tail streaked through the air, accurately striking the Wyrmling's flank.
The evil voodoo magic immediately began to consume the Wyrmling's life. Intense pain and weakness prevented the Chromatic Wyrmling from powerfully flapping its wings. After a struggle in the air, the Chromatic Wyrmling, carrying Marshal Maxwell, plummeted from the sky.
Marshal Maxwell tumbled heavily from the Wyrmling's back, experiencing excruciating pain throughout his body that nearly made him faint. Marshal Maxwell tried to move his limbs but found them completely unresponsive.
He hadn't died immediately, but his severe injuries prevented him from standing up again. He lay among a pile of corpses, only able to watch helplessly as the Stormwind soldiers, deprived of air cover, were slaughtered by the Blackrock Orcs.
"No…"
Marshal Maxwell closed his eyes in agony. This was the most severe punishment and torment for him. He even wished he had died instantly from the fall, rather than lying half-dead, watching the orcs slaughter his soldiers.
The sounds of battle on the city wall grew fainter and fainter. The orcs seemed to have gained an absolute advantage. Their horns and war drums seemed to be ringing right next to Marshal Maxwell's ears.
Just as the Marshal was on the verge of despair, he suddenly felt the earth tremble, along with the faint yet familiar sound of hooves.
"Whoosh—swish—"
Dozens, even hundreds, of fiery streaks cut across the sky. Immediately after, violent explosions and impacts occurred within the orcs' formation. In an instant, hundreds of orcs perished.
Behind those fiery streaks were the dazzling traces of Arcane magic. The mage units of Stormwind and Dalaran spared no magic, unleashing one war-level spell after another.
The Blackrock Orc vanguard, lacking magical support, suffered heavy losses in an instant.
"Finally… they're here." Marshal Maxwell let out a long sigh. His body went limp, his head fell back, and he lost consciousness.
…
"Wake up, wake up, Marshal Maxwell, old friend! Can you hear me?!"
A familiar voice echoed repeatedly in his ears. Marshal Maxwell slowly opened his eyes, and Bolvar's face appeared before him.
The Grand Duke breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Marshal Maxwell open his eyes. "That's great, Marshal Maxwell, I thought Stormwind was about to lose another great hero."
"Did we… did we hold it?" Marshal Maxwell struggled to lift his head, wanting to look around, but found his body still lacked strength.
"We held it, we held it. Don't move around. I just healed you with the Holy Light. You're still very weak," Bolvar said definitively. "The Blackrock Orcs have been forced back into the Burning Steppes. Thanks to you and your soldiers, the Blackrock Orcs couldn't bring the war to our territory! You could have retreated, we could have just redeployed defenses at the valley entrance…"
Because Marshal Maxwell and his troops held the pass in the Redridge Mountains to the death, the Blackrock Orcs were forced to face the human mage units and artillery in the narrow valley. Red, unable to take the pass for so long, realized that staying in the valley would only increase casualties, so he immediately withdrew his troops.
Unfortunately, the fallen rocks in the valley also hindered Stormwind's forces. Bolvar ultimately chose not to pursue, but instead strengthened defenses at the pass.
In fact, they didn't need to pursue further. At this point, the Blackrock Orcs' plan to attack Stormwind had already failed. It was virtually impossible for them to cross the Redridge Mountains defense line now.
With the mage units, Chromatic Wyrmlings could no longer pose too great a threat to ground forces, but this was limited to defense. Stormwind forces, lacking air superiority, were still vulnerable to Wyrmling fire during offensive operations.
This was also one of the reasons Bolvar gave up on the pursuit. The difficulty of resisting the Blackrock Orcs and annihilating them were on completely different levels. Moreover, Arthas had warned him beforehand to be careful not to push the Blackrock Orcs too hard, otherwise it was very likely to draw out adult Black Dragons, which would be devastating to the forces in the valley.
Of course, as long as the situation wasn't too urgent, considering the hidden danger of Ragnaros, Nefarian would not easily send adult Black Dragons to fight on the front lines. At most, there would only be some Wyrmlings and Dragonmen, not even Dragonkin.
So, the Alliance's mission given to Stormwind was now basically complete. The Blackrock Orcs were currently facing a dilemma. If Bolvar's predictions were correct, as long as the Alliance army on the other side of Searing Gorge made good progress, the Blackrock Orcs would soon be forced to withdraw. That would be Stormwind's time to strike while the iron was hot.
"Good… we held it—" Marshal Maxwell's words trailed off midway. He was silent for a moment before asking, "Those children… how many are still alive?"
Bolvar's expression became somewhat heavy when he heard this question, but he didn't hide anything from Marshal Maxwell. "They… including you, a total of thirty-five survived…"
"Thirty-five men…" Marshal Maxwell repeated the number, and in the end, it could only turn into a sigh of infinite sorrow.
There is no war without casualties, but the Alliance had no choice but to initiate this war, because this was not an avoidable battle. Blindly waiting would only hand over the advantage and initiative, and ultimately lead to a more tragic outcome.
"May the Holy Light bless their souls."
....
After the Blackrock Orcs were severely repelled by Stormwind, Rend's eyes were bloodshot, and he began to rage impotently at his subordinates.
"What?! You were driven back by the people of Stormwind?! What are you all doing?! Where are the Wyrmlings allocated to you?! A bunch of good-for-nothings!"
The orcs generals under Rend's command all trembled, knowing very well that Rend had always been iron-fisted and cruel towards his subordinates, with no mercy whatsoever.
"But... Warchief, Stormwind seems to have known about our movements. They have so many mages, and the Wyrmling's breath simply can't—"
A newly promoted sergeant tried to explain, but before he could finish, a large foot landed on his face. The Orc sergeant fell backward, hitting a brazier by the door.
The scorching coals scattered, landing on him and causing him to scream incessantly. Rend roared in disgust, "Drag this useless piece of trash out for me!"
Soon, Blackhand's direct personal guards dragged the Orc sergeant out of the command room. Rend scanned the remaining Blackrock Orcs.
The fate of that unlucky fellow had already taught them a lesson; no one dared to make a sound at this moment.
"Tell the Shattered Shield Legion to all get back here! Firebrand and Bloodaxe, move up! Before Lord Nefarian's wrath descends upon us, kill all those damn humans!"
Amidst Rend's roars, the Orc officers stumbled out of the command room to conduct a new round of strategic deployment, but a human man in black clothes and black hair suddenly blocked the entrance to the command room.
A human appeared in the Orc camp, yet not a single Blackrock Orc found it strange. On the contrary, all their movements froze, unable to advance or retreat.
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"Red Blackhand, stop wasting time on Stormwind's army. The main force of the Alliance has already reached the foot of Blackrock Mountain, and the Dark Iron Dwarves have also poured out. The pressure on Blackrock Spire is very high right now."
The "human" man showed no respect whatsoever for Rend. His attitude was extremely arrogant, just like his true identity, which made all the orcs dare not act rashly.
Clearly, he was not a true human, but a Black Dragon in human form, and a Black Dragon capable of transforming into human form certainly wasn't one of those ignorant Wyrmlings.
Rend's previously arrogant expression instantly vanished. He quickly walked over to the Black Dragon messenger, "The Alliance? How dare they raid Blackrock Spire?"
"Stop asking why, Rend. Lord Nefarian wants you to immediately lead your troops back and drive those mortals and the Fire Lord's servants out of Blackrock Spire!"
After speaking, the Black Dragon messenger cast a spell and left, without even revealing his true form. The other Orc officers were somewhat unsure, but Rend was already used to it.
He swept his gaze around, and the orcs caught in his gaze involuntarily took half a step back. "What are you still doing standing around here? Didn't you hear? Turn around and return to Blackrock Spire immediately!"
The commotion among the Blackrock Orcs quickly attracted the attention of the Stormwind forces led by Bolvar.
"Are they trying to trick us into leaving the canyon?" Marcus asked.
"Probably not... The Alliance side is already attacking Blackrock Spire. The Blackrock Orcs must have received the news and are now preparing to withdraw their troops to defend."
Bolvar had also received intelligence from Arthas and Thoras, but it couldn't fully confirm whether the Blackrock Orcs were truly withdrawing or just putting on a show for Stormwind.
However, after a brief thought, Bolvar ordered, "Send out the cavalry, with the infantry following closely behind, protecting the mage units. The cavalry will first harass the orcs' flanks and rear. Do not engage them directly. Maintain distance. Just prevent them from escaping easily."
There were Wyrmlings in the Blackrock Orcs' Legion, so even when pursuing, Bolvar had to be wary of the possibility of them turning back for a counterattack, which necessitated bringing along mage units for support.
Anyway, his main goal was to delay the Blackrock Orcs and prevent them from retreating too quickly. The frontline said to delay as much as possible, no need to take risks in pursuit, so bringing along mage units to slow down movement a bit was fine.
The Blackrock Orcs' reaction speed far exceeded Bolvar's expectations, but it didn't prevent Stormwind from closely following the Blackrock Orcs, biting at their tail.
"If the enemy is unwilling to retaliate, once we cross the plains and enter the Blackrock Orcs' controlled territory, we will immediately withdraw."
In fact, Bolvar's approach was still somewhat risky, but to maximize the advantage, he made a bold choice based on the intelligence he had, having already considered the risks of acting this way beforehand.
Because it was within his acceptable range, Bolvar chose to pursue in this manner.
And this time, he gambled correctly.
Stormwind's forces stayed on the Blackrock Orcs' heels, launching harassment and containment from time to time. The Shattered Shield Legion, covering the rear, also worried about being completely cut off from the main force, so they followed very closely, essentially failing to play a delaying role.
As a result, the Blackrock Orcs were dragged by Stormwind all the way from Redridge Mountains to the depths of Burning Steppes, their marching speed significantly slowed. And whenever Rend showed signs of wanting to counterattack, Bolvar immediately ordered the cavalry to stop pursuing and retreat at once.
The infantry-heavy Shattered Shield Legion had no way to deal with the cavalry. They would chase for a while only to be beaten back by Stormwind's infantry. When they retreated, Stormwind's infantry wouldn't pursue, but the cavalry would still chase and harass them from behind.
Rend was now eager to return to Blackrock Spire and had no desire to deal with Stormwind's harassment, but the continuous conflicts made the Blackrock Orcs' journey back to defend very long.
Finally, after Rend led the orcs deep into Burning Steppes, where the stationed Blackrock Orcs Legion assisted, Stormwind's disgusting, slime-like clinging combat finally ended.
Bolvar completely disregarded the main Orc force that had already gone far, and with Stormwind's troops, he took off running. Before the Orc wolf riders even arrived, not even a shadow of a human could be seen.
Rend had, in fact, been tempted more than once to engage in a decisive battle with Stormwind's forces along the way, but the thought of Nefarian's methods immediately made the Blackrock Warchief abandon that idea.
Stormwind's harassment was extensive, but it was primarily aimed at impeding the orcs' march and didn't cause them much loss. If he were to lose patience and continue to entangle with the human forces at this point, delaying the war opportunity at Blackrock Spire would be a huge problem.
However, Rend overlooked one problem: the constant back-and-forth and seemingly aimless marching had exhausted most of the Blackrock Orcs both physically and mentally. Their will to fight was significantly lower than when they first set out from Blackrock Spire.
Aside from the most elite Blackhand Legion, the other Legions had more or less encountered problems internally. Rend and the commanders of these Legions no longer had the energy or time to deal with these issues. Upon their return to Blackrock Spire, the first thing they did was engage with the Dark Iron Dwarves who had blocked the circular internal passage.
However, the Dark Iron Dwarves had taken advantage of the orcs' weak defenses to secure the most crucial entrances and strongholds. The weapons originally prepared for battle with the Alliance were now being used against the Blackrock Orcs instead.
Relying on their understanding of Blackrock Mountain and the mountain's own sturdy defenses, the Dark Iron Dwarves, despite being outnumbered, managed to withstand attacks from three sides.
Neither the Blackrock Orcs within the mountain strongholds, nor the returning orcs, nor the Alliance pressing the Dark Iron Dwarves back, had truly breached the Dark Iron Dwarves' defenses.
Now, it was the second day of the battle. The Dark Iron Dwarves' war machines had arrived on the battlefield. Those Black Iron-forged golems and constructs, after being activated by the technicians, began to launch a further fierce assault on the Blackrock Orcs.
Why only the Blackrock Orcs? Because on the Alliance's front, whether it was the Dark Iron Dwarves or their golems, they were still suppressed by artillery fire, unable to lift their heads. As soon as the Blackrock Mountain stronghold's gate opened and the Dark Iron Dwarves showed any sign of coming out, they were met with Alliance artillery fire.
The sturdy Black Iron gate was on the verge of collapsing from the artillery and magic bombardment. The Dark Iron Dwarves had no choice but to hold this side of the gate and first deal with the Blackrock Orcs inside.
Although they couldn't get out, the Alliance couldn't get in either. Since they were stuck in this stalemate, it was better to first deal with the orcs who were still rushing headlong into Blackrock Mountain.
"They should be fighting, right?"
Magni looked at the tightly shut Black Iron gate. Sounds occasionally emanated from within, indicating that the Dark Iron Dwarves and Blackrock Orcs were locked in fierce combat.
"It seems so, but this also makes our occupation of Searing Gorge meaningless. If we can only wait for the Dark Iron Dwarves and Blackrock Orcs to decide a victor, it's not good for us."
Thoras believed the situation was not optimistic. Whether it was the Blackrock Orcs or the Dark Iron Dwarves, once one of them completely occupied the entrance defenses of Blackrock Mountain, it would be extremely difficult for the Alliance to break in.
But the Alliance also didn't dare to easily storm Blackrock Mountain, because the gate's sturdiness was evident. Even under the continuous bombardment of new artillery and magic, the heavy metal gate had not been completely breached.
"We can wait two more days at most. Before the Dark Iron Dwarves' reinforcements heading to Badlands recover, we either enter Blackrock Mountain or eliminate the Dark Iron Dwarves in Badlands first, otherwise everything we've done so far will be meaningless."
Searing Gorge was not a good place for a long-term hold. Thoras estimated that even if a permanent stronghold were to be established there, it would have to be retreated to the west of Searing Gorge, at least where supplies from Loch Modan could be obtained.
Otherwise, no matter how many troops, they would only be wasted in Searing Gorge. Without adequate logistical support, it would be impossible to gain a foothold in Searing Gorge.
"Let's wait a bit longer. Didn't Arthas say he had found a solution to the problem? If there's no news by tomorrow noon, we really will have no choice but to storm Blackrock Mountain!"
As Magni said, Arthas was currently figuring out a solution to the current situation, and his method was very direct. Without much effort, he found a "helper" who had been hiding in the area of Burning Steppes and Searing Gorge.
"Prince Arthas, the Alliance army seems to be in trouble."
"Isn't that normal, Valastrasz? Blackrock Mountain is one of the strongest fortresses in this world. Even though we won the Second War, we didn't reclaim this fortress from the orcs."
Arthas looked at the Red Dragon, Valastrasz, who had taken the form of a young human man before him. He was an envoy of the Rend Dragon Legion, a child of the Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza, and also a Red Dragon who had come to solve the Black Dragon problem.
"Mortal armies alone cannot deal with Nefarian and Ragnaros. They have only sent out their respective servants so far; their true main Legion has not yet appeared." Valastrasz's expression was serious. "Terrible evil is hidden within Blackrock Mountain. Your actions are too reckless. I originally wanted to make more preparations."
"Don't lie to yourself. You know very well that you alone can never contend with Nefarian and his Black Dragonflight. As you said, rushing into Blackrock Spire alone, isn't that just suicide?"
Valastrasz fell silent for a few seconds under Arthas's questioning. The Red Dragon envoy then said, "I know you are very different, Arthas, but this matter has actually long exceeded our capabilities. I should have sought more of my kin to help me."
"But you can't. The various Dragon Legions have suffered heavy blows after the Deathwing incident. Your coming to Blackrock Mountain to monitor Nefarian is already a very risky undertaking." Arthas stated, "So this matter cannot rely solely on you, or solely on the Alliance. Only by uniting can we truly resolve the hidden danger within Blackrock Mountain."
Valastrasz stared into Arthas's eyes, confirming that he showed no hesitation or wavering, then he conceded, "Alright, then what's your plan? We can't possibly just go and deal with Nefarian directly, can we?"
"Sometimes... the most impossible method is precisely the most feasible one. As long as Nefarian is gone, we can easily deal with the remaining Black Dragonflight, because we have a new ally."
No sooner had Arthas finished speaking than a figure appeared behind him. Valastrasz's expression immediately turned grim. "Onyxia? How are you here?"
"Valastrasz, I am now Prince Arthas's collaborator, no longer under the control of the Black Dragonflight—if Nefarian can be dealt with, I can help you gain control of at least half of the Black Dragonflight."
Onyxia seemed not to notice Valastrasz's grim expression, speaking casually to herself.
"This is impossible, Prince Arthas. I don't know where you found this crazy woman, but I warn you, it's best not to believe a single word from a Black Dragon. Whatever she says, my advice is to eliminate her completely right here!"
Valastrasz's attitude was very firm; he even intended to reveal his true form and kill Onyxia.
Onyxia maintained her calm expression, but her charming face always gave off a sense of frivolousness. Valastrasz was even more convinced that Onyxia had ill intentions, but Arthas's next words temporarily halted Valastrasz's actions.
"What if I said someone is willing to vouch for Onyxia?"