Helping

"All the way north!" Listening to the frantic report of the Windrunner sisters, Duke leaned over the military map, stroking his chin in deep thought, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Orgrim's playing chess, not checkers," Windsor muttered, who, like Duke, had seen through the Horde Warchief's cunning ploy. "He's a sly fox."

"Since we know the Horde's target is still Quel'Thalas, we should march quickly and get ahead of the Horde, beat them to the punch!" Sylvanas slammed her fist on the table, her impatience practically radiating.

As soon as she finished speaking, she noticed that everyone else had an expression that screamed, "You're right, but it's about as useful as a screen door on a submarine."

Alleria shook her head, a weary sigh escaping her lips. "This is where Orgrim's genius lies. We can't get a solid read on the main force of the Horde. If we try a forced march, we're practically begging for an ambush. The Horde's forces are far superior to ours. Once ambushed, it's game over, man. Game over."

"We can expand the reconnaissance range!" Sylvanas suggested persistently, refusing to give up.

Alleria still shook her head, her patience wearing thin. "It's pointless to just warn. With the current strength comparison, if we fight the Horde in the wild, we'll be completely wiped out. It'll be a bloodbath."

No one knew how many trolls had actually joined the Horde. The latest intel suggested at least three troll clans had thrown their lot in with the greenskins, but the exact numbers of trolls in each clan had always been a mystery, a dark secret whispered in the shadows.

The worst-case scenario? Duke's thirty thousand men running head-first into a hundred thousand-strong tribal army. No matter how brave these human and dwarven warriors were, they'd be nothing but cannon fodder. This wasn't a joke, because this particular Horde had the heaviest hitters, the strongest heroes in the entire Horde. Orgrim Doomhammer, Gul'dan, Cho'gall, Zuluhed, Talon Bloodseeker... a veritable rogues' gallery of doom.

Regardless of whether Gul'dan was playing at full power or just phoning it in, even if he used a mere twenty percent of his strength, Duke would still be dead. And there was a high probability he wouldn't be coming back. After all, Gul'dan was a super expert in playing with forbidden death magic. Duke didn't fancy being captured and turned into a ghoul or, even worse, a frost lich, especially not after finally making headway with Alleria...

"Then should I go and call back the rangers from the Windrunner family?" Sylvanas asked, her voice laced with reluctant defeat.

Duke still shook his head. "Let's not even talk about your chances of winning against trolls, who are also masters of jungle warfare. The sheer energy and physical exhaustion from this round of fighting would put you at an absolute disadvantage. Even if you sacrificed every single elite ranger in your family, you still wouldn't know where the main force of the Horde is."

Windsor gritted his teeth, his frustration palpable. "If only the Wildhammer air force had arrived earlier, we could at least contend with the Horde's blasted flying dragons!"

Duke nodded. "I've sent a message to Kurdran. He promised to send a squadron of griffins to us within three days."

"Phew, that's the only good news we've had all day," Seamus grumbled, rubbing his temples.

"However, we haven't yet lifted the intelligence blockade. My people have discovered that there are more and more troll hunters lurking near the camp," Windsor added, dropping another unpleasant truth bomb.

Duke pondered. Now, whether to advance or stay put, both options carried immense risks. If this thirty thousand-man army simply stagnated, it might pique Orgrim's interest, and it wasn't out of the question for him to launch a forced counter-march to gobble them up. All motivations, all strategies, still depended on the ever-shifting tide of the situation. Once they were close enough to the main force of the Horde, Orgrim would definitely not mind eating this human 'tail' first.

"Let's retreat back to the foot of the mountain near Hinterland first," Duke finally decided. "I can handle the warning issue by the day after tomorrow at the latest."

Alleria opened her bright eyes wide, her confusion evident. "How in the Light do we solve that problem?"

Duke leaned in, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "Dear Miss Alleria Windrunner, are you interested in accompanying me on a little trip to Dun Morogh?"

"Huh?! What in the blazes?!" Alleria's jaw dropped. Traveling to Dun Morogh?

Dun Morogh was the frosty, mountainous region where the Ironforge dwarves, in the southern continent, were currently hunkered down, defending their main city against the Horde. It was practically crawling with greenskins and trolls. Why in the world would Duke suddenly suggest a pleasure trip to a war zone?

As Alleria opened her mouth, ready to unleash a torrent of questions, Duke suddenly put his index finger on her beautiful red lips. Mmm, the finger sinking into those soft, beautiful red lips felt quite good indeed, Duke thought to himself, momentarily distracted.

"Don't ask, just trust me and follow. I promise I won't let you down as a Windrunner."

Some things are just like that. In the past, Alleria would have given Duke a good smack on the head for such audacious behavior. But now, after everything, Alleria often found herself choosing to believe Duke, against all common sense.

However, Sylvanas was not amused. She put her hands on her waist, her eyes narrowing at Duke. "Hey! Don't you forget, there's another Windrunner right here! Why do you have to take my sister with you?"

Duke flashed a wicked grin. "There must be a Windrunner responsible for the reconnaissance and enemy search in the camp, wouldn't you agree?"

Sylvanas was practically spitting fire. It was painfully obvious that Duke was abusing his power for personal gain, and she knew it. Unfortunately, she also knew that if she went, she definitely wouldn't cooperate with Duke in this... personal way.

"Remember this! Humph!" Sylvanas huffed, shaking her head as she stormed out. "I'm going on patrol!"

Duke didn't open a traditional portal this time. That wouldn't work for where he was going. The place Duke wanted to reach didn't have a fixed coordinate, requiring Duke to use his formidable arcane intellect and the System AI to lock onto the precise spatial position.

What no one expected was that Duke then waved a hand, beckoning Vanessa to come closer.

"Me?" Vanessa asked, a little dazed, pointing at herself.

"I need a thief who is skilled and, more importantly, trustworthy," Duke explained, his eyes twinkling.

As soon as she heard the word "trustworthy," Vanessa, who still harbored a bit of a schoolgirl crush, practically skipped past Duke, eager to prove herself. Then, Vanessa felt a pang of regret. Because Duke, with a casual grace, put a paw on her waist. In fact, Duke was now hugging one woman on each side. On his left was Vanessa, and on his right, Alleria.

Without giving them too much time to struggle shyly or protest, Duke directly initiated the teleportation. The dazzling blue-purple arcane light swirled, transforming into dozens of mysterious rune ribbon rings that began to rotate continuously in the air. As the arcane energy overflowed in massive quantities, the two women suddenly felt the scenery around them blur, becoming unreal, dreamlike.

A small, shimmering hole appeared in space, and immediately, an overwhelming, irresistible force sucked them in.

"Ahhhhh——" The knowledgeable Alleria, despite her shock, was better off. Little Vanessa, however, was so utterly terrified that she instinctively clung to Duke like a barnacle to a ship.

Duke then realized, with a jolt, that Vanessa had grown... quite well indeed. Don't say anything, just infuse Medivh's integrity into yourself, at least don't make a fool of yourself, he mentally chastised himself.

This was not a teleportation in the traditional sense. The standard teleportation between the major cities of the kingdoms had relatively fixed spatial coordinates and a stable spatial structure. This was a temporary, targeted transmission, and therefore far more arduous, draining him significantly.

Duke quickly pinpointed Ironforge, the capital of the Bronzebeard dwarves, then swiftly began his search for his true target. Fortunately, the thing he was looking for was also rather large, and Duke found it without breaking too much of a sweat.

That thing was Gnomeregan, a level 35 dungeon in the previous game, and now, in this reality, the former homeland that the gnomes and dwarves had been forced to abandon. Once upon a time, the dwarves of Ironforge and the gnomes of Gnomeregan had a good relationship, but they didn't exactly live under the same roof. Then, a dwarf, in a moment of utter idiocy, did something catastrophically wrong, causing his home to collapse. Various monstrous creatures poured out, killing all the surviving dwarves. Most of those who remained were transformed into grotesque, mutated "leper gnomes." Well, it's correct to think of them as a kind of neurotic, radiation-poisoned dwarf.

Looking at the utterly unfamiliar, eerie scene in front of her, Alleria was a little bewildered. "What in the blazes are we doing here?" she asked, her voice echoing strangely in the desolate tunnels.

"We are here to look for something special," Duke replied, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.

"Ha?" Alleria responded, utterly lost.