Among the massive Kul Tiras Fleet, one warship stood out: the flagship, the Sea Sovereign.
Admiral Daelin Proudmoore stood on the deck, his posture straight and his spirit high, looking into the distance.
The sea wind howled, ruffling his clothes and bringing the scent of gunpowder.
A rare smile appeared on his chiseled face.
This was the first naval battle between the Kul Tiras Fleet and the Horde Fleet, and everything was unfolding as he had envisioned.
The sea had delivered news of the enemy, and the undercurrents lurking beneath the surface had granted his fleet a speed far exceeding its usual.
Half an hour ago, he personally led the First and Second Fleets, and with the aid of the sea, they arrived early between Tol Barad Island and Tidefall Island, using the two islands' towering rocks and dense jungles to conceal their presence.
Meanwhile, his incredibly proud son, Drake, the most valiant of Kul Tiras's younger generation, led the Third Fleet, acting as a shield across the other side of the Baradin Bay, blocking the Horde Fleet's path.
The moment the Horde Fleet discovered the Third Fleet, which consisted of only thirty warships, and accelerated into the strait, exposing their hulls to him, he gave the order to fire.
The Horde Fleet was completely unprepared, and the first volley achieved significant results.
The closest warship suffered the most intense attack, its hull splitting in half from the center and quickly sinking.
The dozen or so more distant warships also sustained considerable damage, with over a hundred crew members killed or wounded.
Immediately after, he ordered a second wave of attack.
Powder kegs were thrown onto the Horde warships and then ignited by arrows shot by archers.
Flames rapidly spread across the decks, setting off other powder kegs and engulfing the entire ship.
Everything was as he expected.
Those burly Orcs were not qualified sailors; they lacked knowledge of navigation and naval warfare.
They would be formidable warriors in close-quarters combat; in a one-on-one fight, Kul Tiras warriors were no match.
But on the tumultuous and unpredictable ocean, they were not worth a single finger of a Kul Tiras sailor.
The Horde Fleet crumbled at the first touch!
In just half an hour, seven warships were sunk, eighteen were set ablaze, and the massive fleet suffered over thirty percent losses, completely losing its ability to resist and beginning to turn tail and flee.
"Pursue!"
Daelin gave the order again, and the three fleets chased relentlessly, moving much faster than the Horde warships.
Before long, this sea area would be free of any Horde presence.
Kul Tiras territory would never tolerate enemy incursions!
"Admiral! Something is coming towards us, from the sky!"
Just then, Daelin heard the lookout's shout.
He looked up at the lookout.
The man's face was pale, and he was trembling, pointing north, as if he had seen something extremely terrifying.
"This isn't right, is it?"
"I know this kid; he sailed with me to the center of the Endless Sea and wasn't afraid of unspeakable things. What's wrong now?"
Daelin's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly picked up his telescope to look in that direction, a chill instantly running down his spine.
Through the clouds, more than a dozen Goblin Airships burst forth, accompanied by more than a dozen Red Dragon Whelps!
Those flying monsters dove down at an incredibly fast speed, rapidly approaching the Third Fleet, opening their blood-red mouths, and a red glow emanating from deep within their throats.
Beams of red light spewed out, transforming into thick liquid flames that landed on the decks, instantly igniting them and engulfing the crew.
"Drake, Drake!"
Daelin's heart clenched, and he quickly looked towards the Third Fleet's flagship, his eyes instantly splitting with rage.
He saw Drake standing at the bow, looking up at the sky, a look of horror on his face.
However, after only a few seconds, the horror vanished, replaced by resolve and determination.
Drake quickly walked to the main cannon, moved the gun barrel, aimed the black cannon at the sky, and his lips moved.
Thousands of meters away, he couldn't hear what Drake said at all.
But the Gnome telescope personally given to him by Gnomeregan's High Tinker Mekkatorque had excellent performance, allowing him to see and read Drake's lips.
"Father…"
At the moment of life and death, the word that sprang from Drake's mouth was not an insult, not a curse, not an impassioned speech of sacrifice, but "Father"!
Then, fire!
Daelin's body trembled violently, his shaking hand moving the telescope, watching the cannonball arc gracefully through the sky, accurately hitting a Red Dragon Whelp that was spewing Dragon's Breath.
Yesterday, he had reprimanded Drake for being lazy recently, as a captain who couldn't even aim a cannonball, and today Drake gave him a perfect answer.
Drake took down a Dragon!
This was the first Dragon taken down by a Kul Tiras person, and perhaps the first Dragon taken down by a human… Aegwynn and Medivh don't count; they weren't human.
He seemed to see Drake cutting off the Red Dragon Whelp's head, holding the Dragon's head in his hands and presenting it to him, smiling at him with anticipation: Father, look, I took down a Dragon!
However, Daelin felt no pride in his heart.
An unprecedented panic engulfed his soul.
The Red Dragon Whelp's fiery breath, carrying the power to destroy everything, charged irresistibly towards Drake!
He didn't want any pride, nor did he want to show off to Terenas and the others; he only wanted his son to live!
"Father…"
He saw Drake's lips move again, and tears streamed from his eyes, blurring his vision.
A thin mist appeared on the lens, and in the mist, a strong firelight emerged, and in the firelight, there seemed to be an additional person.
A glimmer of hope suddenly surged in his heart.
Daelin quickly wiped away his tears and cleared the mist.
By this time, the fiery breath had ended.
The raging fire ignited the deck, turning it into a sea of flames.
And in the center of this sea of flames, Drake was unharmed, standing in front of a familiar High Elf, with a fiery red longsword, which he had seen in history books, hanging at his waist.
"Flame Strike, Kael'thas…" Daelin murmured to himself.
Layers of tiny ice crystals floated around the two of them, forming an egg-shaped armor that blocked the Red Dragon's breath; that was an Ice Barrier.
Immediately after, the armor shattered, shooting in all directions, turning into a Frost Nova, melting in the high temperature, and extinguishing the flames.
Kael'thas seemed to sense something, turned his head to look at him, and smiled slightly, revealing the face he had seen not long ago.
"Phew~~" Daelin let out a long breath, his heart, which had almost stopped, pounded rapidly.
My son is alive!
Kael'thas, no more words are needed. I owe you a life, and Kul Tiras owes you a favor!
Just then, Daelin heard cheers.
He quickly lowered his telescope, widened his field of vision, and saw five Dragonhawks appear above the Third Fleet.
On the backs of four of them were four graceful and tall female High Elves.
He saw two of them with daggers at their waists, quivers on their backs, and longbows in their hands, they were Elven Rangers.
They drew their bows and notched arrows, and two feathered arrows shot out like lightning, moving at a speed that exceeded the limits of what the naked eye could catch.
He followed their direction and saw the two feathered arrows accurately hit the Orc riders on the backs of two Red Dragon Whelps.
"Such incredible archery!"
Daelin's eyelids twitched.
At this moment, his peripheral vision caught a High Elf leaping through the air, jumping onto the back of a Red Dragon Whelp, and severing the Orc rider's neck with a single sword stroke.
Then, gripping the hilt with both hands, he held the sword upside down and fiercely pierced the Red Dragon Whelp's head!
The High Elf's long legs pushed off with force, he yanked out his sword, jumped back onto the Dragonhawk's back, and charged towards the next Red Dragon Whelp.
"Such fierce swordsmanship!"
Daelin shifted his gaze, looking back at Drake, and saw that many crew members had been burned.
Then he saw another High Elf, dressed in a white priest's robe, lightly landing on the deck, raising his staff, which shone with white light.
Beams of Holy Light continuously fell upon the crew members, and their scorched skin immediately peeled off at a visible rate, replaced by new, tender skin.
"Such powerful Holy Light!"
Daelin exclaimed repeatedly, seeing Kael'thas flash with light and disappear.
Immediately after, he heard a steady and strong voice ring out beside him.
"General, what are you still waiting for?"
"The Alliance Admiral isn't afraid of these winged lizards, is he?"
"Thoradin the Great back then didn't know what fear was; he even dared to cut down loa gods, who were a hundred times stronger than Red Dragon Whelps!"
"This is a provocation, a clumsy provocation!"
Daelin sneered, "I, the Grand Admiral of the Alliance Navy, the leader of a nation, will not fall for this!"
"Me, afraid of them? What a joke!"
He turned, looked at Kael'thas, swallowed the thanks that were on his lips, and snorted: "Your Highness, we were just ambushed by Red Dragons we had never seen before!"
"It was an ambush! Not a direct confrontation, it was an ambush, a shameless ambush!"
"The people of Kul Tiras are invincible at sea!"
He picked up a megaphone and roared: "Fire! All of you, fire, blow those damned lizards out of the sky!"
He threw away the megaphone, personally manned a cannon, aimed at the nearest Red Dragon, and with one shot, hit its belly, blowing it to smithereens.
"See that!"
Daelin jutted his chin at Kael'thas, silently expressing his pride.
"You're amazing, you're amazing."
"You are as mighty as Emperor Thoradin was back then."
Kael'thas gave a thumbs up in praise and said loudly: "General, how about we join forces and sink all these damned Horde into the sea to feed the fish?"
Daelin laughed heartily: "Good, the ones on the ships and at low altitude are mine!"
"The ones at high altitude are mine!"
Kael'thas teleported into mid-air, landing steadily on a Dragonhawk's back, and flew higher.
Cannonballs shot from above, most were dodged by the agile Dragonhawk, while a few were blocked by his defensive spells—
He still had to consider the breath of an adult Red Dragon, but the breath of a Red Dragon Whelp was not powerful enough, he could easily block it.
Dozens of breaths later, he ascended to several hundred meters, drew his Flame Strike, and cast a spell at the Goblin Airship below.
Fist-sized fireballs landed on the airship, burning through the large balloon.
The airship, losing its buoyancy, plunged into the sea amidst the screams of Goblins and Orcs.
Kael'thas repeated the process, and in less than five minutes, he destroyed three Goblin Airships, enraging the Orcs on the other airships and terrifying the Goblins around him.
"Fire, fire at that High Elf, blow him down!"
"No! Do you know how slow an airship is? Much slower than a Dragonhawk, and it climbs even slower. That guy's Dragonhawk is above us, how can we hit him? He's the only one who can hit us, we can't hit him!"
"You have to fire even if you can't hit him. Not being able to hit him is a matter of strength, but not firing is a matter of attitude! True warriors don't run away, this is about honor!"
"That's your Orcish honor, not ours, the Goblins'! You only give me a few gold coins a month, why would I risk my life!"
"You're not going to fire, are you? Then you go feed the fish, I'll fire!"
"No, I was just haggling, give me a few gold coins and I'll fire, look how impatient you are… Ah!"
One by one, Goblins were thrown off the airships, screaming as they free-fell.
And their painstakingly built airships were soon after ignited by continuous large fireballs, meeting the nightmare of being buried with them.
Seeing these scenes, the Orcs on the other airships were terrified.
Their boiling Orcish blood was cooled by the cold reality, their muscular brains were no longer congested, and calm once again took over.
"Hurry and sail, what are you waiting for, run, little Goblin!"
"Wait a minute, weren't you just about to throw me down? If I hadn't knelt quickly, I'd be feeding the fish by now. Don't you want your honor anymore?"
"You say that, but killing enemies while alive is honor, falling down to feed the fish is a disgrace!"
"Bah!"
"Are you going to fire or not? If not, I'll throw you down to feed the fish!"
"Yes, yes, I'll fire, alright, just take your dirty hands off me, don't touch me!"
Seeing that they couldn't win, the Horde air force strategically retreated one after another.
But it was too late!
The Goblins' technological level was similar to that of Europe and America during World War I, with incredibly slow flying speeds. Even at full throttle, they could only reach twenty to thirty kilometers per hour, much slower than a Dragonhawk.
The Horde had initially thought that the Kul Tiras fleet had no air power, which was why they sent the Goblin Airships.
They had intended to drop explosives and bombs, using their air superiority to destroy the Kul Tiras warships.
They never expected Kael'thas to suddenly appear with four subordinates, and even bring Dragonhawks!
Aside from being able to fly, Goblin Airships were useless in every other aspect.
Each airship only had one cannon.
And because of their weight, they were only the lightest type, with extremely limited power, rate of fire, and range, unable to hit the agile Dragonhawks at all.
Also due to weight, they had to reduce their load, saving on materials wherever possible. The airships themselves had little defense, even worse than the body panels of Japanese cars.
Let alone a mage's large fireball, even an ordinary feathered arrow could pierce the balloon!
In just over ten minutes, all dozen Goblin Airships were destroyed by Kael'thas, and the Goblins and Orcs on board were buried in the sea—
Plummeting from several hundred meters high, the gentle, moist sea surface didn't have time to deform, and was no different from reinforced concrete; survival was impossible.
And those Dragon Riders were clearly much harder to deal with than Goblin Airships!
The Red Dragon Whelps were at least seven or eight meters long, some even over ten meters, with a wingspan exceeding twenty meters, and their flight speed was no slower than a Dragonhawk's.
Initially, under the enslavement of Orc riders, they attacked the Kul Tiras fleet, which gave Kael'thas and his companions the opportunity to eliminate several of them immediately.
But when the tide turned, they were ordered by the Orcs to flee at full speed, and the Dragonhawks naturally couldn't catch up.
"Oh no!"
At the bow of the Sea Lord, Daelin exclaimed as he saw this scene.
He absolutely did not want any Dragon Rider to escape.
Every Red Dragon Whelp was an extremely terrifying weapon of mass destruction.
Their most fearsome aspect was not their individual destructive power, but their flames.
The flames they spewed came with accelerants and combustibles, and they were also magical flames that were very difficult to extinguish, capable of igniting even fire-resistant materials, let alone wooden structures.
Any Red Dragon Whelp, if it appeared over a village or town, could, at an extremely fast speed, turn the entire village or town into a sea of fire.
The Horde could completely use these Red Dragon Whelps to burn down villages and towns, burn down granaries, burn down forests, and even burn down defensive structures.
On a direct battlefield, Red Dragon Whelps, which feared arrows and cannons, might not have the same destructive power as a hundred Orc foot soldiers.
But their destructive power in other areas was far more terrifying than a thousand Orc foot soldiers!
"Don't worry, General, they won't escape." A gentle voice rang out; it was Liadrin.
She was riding a Dragonhawk, treating the wounded everywhere, and had arrived at the flagship at some point.
"What?" Daelin was stunned.
"General, look." Liadrin raised her delicate hand and pointed into the distance.
Daelin quickly looked over.
He saw Kael'thas in the sky suddenly stop, muttering to himself, seemingly reciting some incantation.
Not long after, an extremely massive phoenix appeared.
It flapped its wings, carrying Kael'thas, and chased after the fleeing Red Dragon Whelps, at least one-fifth faster.
Although it was only one-fifth faster, being even a little faster was still faster.
As long as it was a little faster, on the vast, boundless sea where there was nowhere to hide, those Red Dragon Whelps would not escape!