Sal called out, and the tribal warriors, who had been waiting impatiently, rushed forward.
At this moment, the Alliance's cruisers and destroyers in the sky suddenly flashed with countless complicated and delicate magic arrays.
After a while, the ice arrows of [Blizzard] fell in front of the tribe's advance route. A magic storm that was only used for support was generated out of thin air and easily extinguished the flames that were blocking the tribe's advance.
Sal bared his teeth. He really didn't know when the tribe would be able to use [Air-Ground Integration] and [Infantry Cannon Synergy] as smoothly as the Alliance.
There was no other way. The Alliance had already given them face by not being beaten after falling behind. The Rusty Water Conglomerate that relied on the tribe was not a charity hall that provided everything to the tribe for free.
With the Rusty Water Conglomerate's bloodline, they wanted to develop flying warships, change infantry's light weapons, and create a cannon revolution … This was absolutely unrealistic. Sal was also afraid that Gast would be too powerful and let the cunning goblin trade prince run away. Then the tribe would suffer even more losses.
Well, the tribe could only be obedient infantry now. At most, they would have some magic support. The high-tech war could only be handed over to the Alliance.
No matter what, the Alliance was now kind.
Those who were rolling around in the mud and the tangled ropes were living treasures!
How to catch them?
The Alliance's lasso for the tribe was a great artifact.
The Wolf Riders of the tribe used nets to catch enemies that could not fly high, but it was not so troublesome to deal with these ridiculous opponents. Each of them was like a western cowboy on Earth. They directly lassoed them and pulled them out under the pull of the wolves.
Regardless of whether they struggled or not, once they were lassoed, an Evil Orc was like a prelude to being torn apart by five horses. They were pulled out in a strange posture.
Anyway, the Evil Orcs had thicker skin and flesh. Even if they were strangled by the neck for a long time, they would not necessarily die.
Every time they successfully pulled out an unlucky person, a group of ill-intentioned infantry would use sticks as thick as thighs to educate these crazy compatriots (physics).
The Evil Orcs who were beaten up and even had a few teeth smashed were dragged to the back and handed over to the Orc labourers to tie them up with special ropes given by the Alliance. One by one, they were tied up like rice dumplings and thrown into the open space.
That wasn't an ordinary hemp rope, considering how powerful the Evil Beastmen were. Those ropes were all mixed with steel wires. Coupled with the special steel handcuffs, unless one was as strong as the Tauren and was tied up badly, they would not be able to escape.
The Fel Orcs on the periphery of the quagmire were quickly dealt with.
The Orc labourers eagerly ran up and threw thick logs onto the swamp, using them as stepping stones for the Wolf Riders. The War Wolf cheerfully and nimbly jumped on the wooden steps, and continued to drag out the Evil Beastmen from the depths of the swamp and knock them unconscious.
Saar and Orgrim looked at this ridiculous scene of a few thousand people dealing with over a hundred thousand people. Both of them had strange expressions on their faces.
"How terrifying. Duque had actually calculated that the lake that had just been filled would turn back into a swamp if it was not watered by the heavy rain. He can even summon such a large-scale rain with the power of a mortal, and that kind of anti-air cannon … "Sal sighed.
"He's still a demigod," Orgrim reminded in a low, muffled voice.
At this moment, a messenger came to inform Thrall. "The Alliance has sent someone over."
"Who?"
"A person who claims to be Mark Dooku, with a small team of Dwarven secret chamber guards and a … Draenei woman."
The Dwarven secret chamber guards were known for their bravery and loyalty. They had always been directly under the Bronze-Bearded Dwarven Royal Family, so this messenger could not be a fake.
But why did they send a Draenei?
Orgrim's eyebrows were almost furrowed.
To be honest, more than twenty years ago, Orgrim had participated in the war between the Beastmen and the Draenei. Even last year, he had heard of the Draenei clashing with other normal Beastmen clans.
Orgrim was very unhappy that the Draenei had latched onto the extremely thick thigh that was the Alliance.
The Alliance and Shattrath City exchanged glances, and the messengers of both sides frequently discussed the details of joining the Alliance. The Horde also knew about it, and it was basically just waiting for the final announcement.
Just like how the Alliance had tacitly allowed the Forsaken and Goblins to join the Horde, the Horde had no right to criticize the Alliance on this matter.
Saar nodded.
Then, among a group of giants that were easily two and a half meters tall, a group of guys with an average height of less than 1.6 meters walked in.
"Mark, I'm afraid …"
In the countless rumors of the Draenei, the Horde's Beastmen were the most terrifying, the most vicious. The rumors of the Beastmen eating humans had never stopped.
In fact, this was a misunderstanding. Although the Beastmen had evolved sharp fangs in the past tens of thousands of years in order to bite down on strong and muscular prey, that was only for low-level prey. The Beastmen did not eat humans.
Just like the Tauren and the Ox, they were not the same race.
But on the battlefield, the incomparably violent Fel Beastmen, after losing their weapons, would often pounce forward, use their fists to smash, use their claws to dig, and even use their mouths full of fangs to bite off the throats of the Draenei.
This had left a serious psychological shadow on the Beastmen for the Draenei.
Even if Duque had repeatedly emphasized that these were the new Horde, the new Beastmen, without the aftereffects of the Devil's Blood, Imriel was still afraid!
Even if there was a team of Dwarven secret chamber guards wearing over a hundred pounds of heavy armor, unfortunately, they were too short, and still exposed her to the sight of those green giants wearing black iron heavy armor and muscular.
The feeling of being looked down upon by an old enemy was terrible.
Her hooves could not help but grab tightly onto the sleeves of this Lord Mark Dooku. Oh, no, from the back, she was practically sticking to him.
Ugh, although it felt good to be pressed against by the Draenei maiden's breasts, Duque tried to calm himself down.
Wait!
Those are hooves!
The blue-skinned, reversed hooves of the Draenei!
Could it be that I can also react to such a fellow?
No — I am not filthy Dooku!
I am a new era of integrity, a gentleman with morals, oh, a demigod!
However, Duque was someone who was used to grand occasions.
When he saw Thrall and Orgrim, Duke pinched Hoof's arm lightly and made her let go of him.
"Ah!" Imriel let go as if she had been electrocuted, but she was still very close to Duque. It could not be helped, Thrall's personal guards, who were more than two and a half meters tall, gave her too much pressure.
Duque controlled this Mark Dooku to smile, "Good morning, beloved Great Chief. I am Mark Dooku, and I bring greetings from the Alliance's Commander, Lord Duke Marcus. "
"Good morning, Great Mage Mark, please send my regards to your commander."
"I also know that the Great Chief is very busy, so I would like to ask on behalf of the Alliance, if the Great Chief is interested in experimenting with a new method to cure the Devil's Blood addiction?"
Thrall and Orgrim's ears instantly perked up.
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