As Diego returned to the Hall of the Throne, at the entrance to a valley about a few dozen miles from the Undercity, two armies of the undead, consisting of Abomination, Zombies, and Skeletons, were fiercely killing each other.
The dark night did not constitute an obstacle to their battles, on the contrary, in the dark night, they fought more fiercely and more passionately.
These undead warriors stenched all over their bodies, and if not their enemies were their stinking kind, but any other race of Azeroth, they would have been fainted.
These undead warriors of different sizes wielded a variety of weapons and slashed at each other with great force, but the casualties caused were not directly proportional to the intensity of the battle, because many of the injuries that were fatal to ordinary people, these living dead often just shook their bodies, shook the severed part to the ground, and then continued to fight in a ball.
On the west side of the battlefield, some vague translucent shadows were floating back and forth in midair.
They were clearly the commanders of one of the sides that were fighting.
Because along with their spell casting gestures, there are always some corpses that have fallen to the ground, but they are still intact, and they get up again and go into battle.
And on the other side of the battlefield stood the commander of the other side, a Nasrezm demon.
It was Varimathas, a Dreadlord who had sworn allegiance to Sylvanas, but had betrayed him again.
In fact, in Nasrezm's dictionary, there is never the word loyalty.
The creature was enormous, ten feet tall.
Its blue-gray skin resembled moving stones, its bare skeletal head had two forward-curved horns, and a pair of strong bat mantiphant wings stretched out behind him, as if there was a shadow of life.
Its legs are curved and end in a pair of hooves, and its metal leggings are topped with spikes and decorated with hideous bone and skull motifs.
The green light from its eyes illuminated its bare sharp teeth, revealing an eerie and grim countenance.
But now, that chilling face is filled with resentment and anger.
It is clear that the progress of the battle does not satisfy it.
He needed to get rid of the undead banshees as soon as possible and get back to the Undercity, not waste time here - the apothecaries wouldn't mind taking the supremacy of the city in his absence.
"Rush up and throw all your people in!"
Varimathas roared at the undead apothecary beside him, who was commanding an army of the undead.
For the former Scourge Legion, the Sea of the Dead tactics are the simplest and crude, but also the most effective, winning every battle, and tried and tested.
"That's useless, my lord, those banshees are fighting us for control of these undead warriors, and a single shriek of them can throw them into chaos, and no amount of people will be invested in it."
The pharmacist retorted weakly.
Compared to the demon's enormous size, he looked extremely small.
Strands of greasy gray hair fell from his forehead, obscuring his twinkling eyes.
He didn't want to throw all of his troops into this war of attrition, as it would be the capital of the Royal Apothecary's struggle for power with the Dreadlord in the future—the agreement between the two betrayers to overthrow the Banshee King was so fragile that it could be torn apart at any moment.
"Humph!"
Varimasas disdainfully puffed a cloud of sulfur-filled smoke from his nostrils, and as a master of conspiracy, he knew better than anyone what the pharmacists were thinking.
He flicked his sharp nails impatiently, forcibly suppressing the urge to break the apothecary's neck.
Staring through the crowded battlefield, Varimathas struggled to seize the opportunity to win, and in the faint light of the moon, he saw the apothecary commanding the undead warriors to rush forward like a tidal wave, then stirring up waves of countless severed arms and stumps, and then retreating back to the starting point like a low tide.
Looking at the ragged, defeated undead army that had struggled back from the mud of entrails and dirty blood, the Dreadlord sighed helplessly, if he was commanding the Burning Legion, then they would be unstoppable - all it would take was a charge from the Doom Guardians or the Hellfires to crush these walking dead to shreds!
But there wasn't a single demon army around him, and he glanced behind him, where four strong demon guards were standing straight.
This was a sneaky summoning before he decided to overthrow the rule of the Banshee King.
In fact, the betrayal didn't go so well, he didn't even have time to summon more demon soldiers, and the most vicious of them had already died in the sewers.
These red-skinned demon guards looked very tall, a foot tall.
They have large horns or spines on their backs and smaller horns on their foreheads.
They were well-armed, and every inch of their skin was covered in armor except for their muscular forechest.
The double-edged giant axe they were carrying also made them look even more fierce.
Varimathas hesitated for a moment, giving up on his plans to throw these demon guards into battle as assaulters.
Their numbers are so small that they are thrown into the chaos of the battlefield, and it is estimated that they will not even be able to splash a wave.
What's more, for Nasrezm, his own life is more important than anything else, and he needs these few demon guards to protect him.
The Dreadlords are masters of conspiracy, mastered in deception and lies, and they are accustomed to hiding behind the scenes, using minions and puppets to stir up trouble.
For Nasrezm, the greed, anger, resentment, despair, and all other negative emotions of the enemy are delicious food, and torturing other creatures physically and psychologically to inflict their suffering will bring these demons great joy and satisfaction.
The Dreadlords are adept at using their talents to unleash psychological offensives, playing with their opponents and disintegrating them to make their enemies struggle for corruption and depravity.
When they are the commanders of their troops, they always like to hide behind rows of cannon fodder soldiers to direct and supervise the battle, and when the enemy has the upper hand, or gets too close to them, they will withdraw from the battlefield - or run away.
For this reason, the Dreadlords' teleportation spells are always exceptionally sophisticated.
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They only join hand-to-hand combat when they are convinced that they have the upper hand.
However, all of this meant that the Dreadlords lacked the gritty will to fight and the strength to break the deadlock, unlike the savage, ignorant Abyss Lords in their eyes - their incomparably large size and rough, tough skin made them better suited to charge, and their superior strength and battering ram-heavy double-headed spears were invincible on the battlefield; It's not like Hellfire, which has no brains—these more semi-construct-like demons are shrouded in blazing evil flames that can burn entire battlefields into a sea of fire.
Therefore, whenever the battle situation is at a stalemate, the Dreaddemon Kings can often only stare dryly, sighing in vain.
"These cowardly rats!
You sent them to storm the Banshees' defenses, and they fled back like whipped dogs.
Annoyed by his impotence, Varimathas roared disdainfully at the apothecary, "Let them go back to the battlefield, these damned deserters, they should go to the breach instead of running back to survive!"
” The pharmacist rolled his eyes impatiently.
The white of his eyes was rolled in place—the whites of his eyes were all in his sockets, and he couldn't see any black at all, in fact, since he came back from the dead, his eyes have been like this, even if he turned them over again.
He knew very well that it was not a better choice to talk about tactics with this stubborn demon, but time was consumed little by little, and he also felt a little anxious, but he still used his usual tone to prevaricate the Dreadlord Demon King, "We have stabilized the situation, what we need now is patience, give me a little more time, and our reinforcements will arrive, yes, the Great Apothecary Putress will send more reinforcements, and those new abominations are stronger and more powerful......"
The apothecary babbled, licking his gray lips with his black, purple tongue, intending to continue.
However, after a few seconds, he suddenly realized that the imaginary rebuke and roar had not spurted down from the top of his head.
"It's not normal!"
The pharmacist thought subconsciously.
He looked up in some surprise and saw that the Dreadlord was twisting his head, looking nervously in the direction of the Undercity, his bat-like wings trembling slightly behind him, as if he was trembling with fear.
"Your Excellency?"
The pharmacist asked tentatively, "Lord Valimas?"
” "Huh?"
The Dreadlord turned his head sharply and looked at the apothecary in disbelief, and after a few seconds, he came back to his senses and began to hide his panic with an angry roar, "You idiot, hurry up and let your men charge, what are you waiting for?"
” The pharmacist was horrified and crawled away.
Behind him, a worried Varimathas's face was so gloomy that he could almost drip water, and just now, he sensed that the corrosive curse he had unleashed on Sylvanas had been dispelled—he had wanted to corrupt the Banshee King into his own puppet, which was why Sylvanas had not been killed outright - the Dreadlord wanted to squeeze even the last bit of value out of her.
Exorcing the curse is a bright energy, holy and powerful, with a deadly target against demons.
He bet he had never sensed it in anyone in the Undercity.
Apparently, some outsiders entered the city and rescued the Banshee King.
"It seems that the battle here can't drag on any longer, the night is long and dreamy, who knows if the Dark City is still under the control of the Apothecary Guild?"
A heavy shadow cast over the heart of the Lord of Fear.
He knew better than anyone the freed Sylvanas' ability to control the Undercity, and even though some of the Forsaken were co-opted by the Apothecary Guild, many more were undoubtedly loyal to the Banshee King.
They just haven't figured out the situation yet, and they haven't received the queen's orders yet.
"You guys go up too, join the next charge."
He turned back and commanded the rock-like silence of the demon guards.