Chapter 315: A Draw?

The sharp, interlocking teeth of the red dragons, the wide-open mouths of the orcs as they roared, the fear-filled, bloodshot eyes of the dragon riders - all of these were reflected in the emerald eyes of Alleria, the great demon king.

"Whoosh!"

The sound of the arrow's flight.

Facing the full-force arrow skills of the Windrunners as the distance closed, even the great shaman's natural protection could only sigh in helplessness and despair.

Two arrows broke the wind shield. One arrow hit the face.

The result of three rounds of nine arrows was that three dragon riders lost their lives forever, their sinful bodies falling from the sky, ultimately dying a gruesome death.

"No!" Zuluhed was so angry that his eyes were about to bulge out of their sockets.

"Kill them!"

"Go, tear them apart!"

A group of Dragonmaw orcs were nearly hoarse from shouting.

But no matter what, they couldn't catch up.

This situation was completely unacceptable to the Dragonmaw orcs.

Elven rangers, who can't fly, making godlike dodges in the air using ice pillars that came from nowhere?

Even the most imaginative orc couldn't imagine such a situation. Yet the other side not only thought of it, but also did it.

Duke's coordination with the Windrunner sisters was seamless.

Whether they wanted to speed up or turn in the air, at the time they needed it most, in the most ideal place, there would definitely be an ice pillar appearing just right, shot from nowhere. Those Mage Hands floating a hundred meters in the air would certainly fulfill their expectations, shooting the ice pillars through the hundred-meter sky, delivering them to the perfect place.

No need for words, no need for hints, Duke did all this perfectly with the help of the system.

Alleria and Queen Sylvanas were surprised, no, they were ecstatic. They didn't know that Duke's system had figured out all their movement trajectories, the enemy's attack routes, and the possible dodge routes they might need. All Duke had to do was to let the Mage Hands shoot the ice pillars along the routes they needed.

They were just excited: Is there actually someone in the world who can be so in tune with me?

Could this be the legendary telepathy (heart-to-heart connection)?

Anyway, at first glance, the Windrunner sisters were flying.

With agility surpassing that of gryphons and even dragons, they fluttered and turned, rose and fell, soaring incredibly flexibly in the sky three hundred meters high.

Zuluhed was almost mad with anger.

The Dragonmaw orcs were terrified.

Some dragon riders began to drive their dragons to climb to higher altitudes in a panic, seeking a moment of peace.

Others frantically launched a desperate dive at Duke, who was behind the ice fountain, only to die in the volley of arrows from the elven ranger squad that had been waiting on the ground for a long time.

Whether Zuluhed was willing to admit it or not, the Red Dragonflight, which had been driven out of the battle zone, had not played its due role.

At this time, it was just about when the orc army was about to rush to the sniping point on the north side of the Thandol Span, and also when the transport ships were about to reach the bottom of the bridge.

At this moment, next to Duke, were nearly ten thousand Stromgarde soldiers who had already returned to their battle positions. They were cheering, shouting "Long live Duke" or "Long live the Alliance", pouring a rain of death made up of stones, crossbow bolts,

and cannonballs onto the Horde with relatively complete heavy military equipment.

On the bridge, there was the usual rain of flesh and blood. Orc corpses and severed limbs, struck by huge stones, fell from the edge of the bridge like dumplings.

Towards the strait, due to some of the military equipment being destroyed by dragon breath earlier, it was impossible to completely block it. However, for each transport ship that passed, at least two had to sink as a price.

Looking at the tragic situation of the army, looking at the increasingly scarce Dragonmaw orc riders around him, and then looking at the Windrunner sisters who dominated the entire mid and low altitude and were unstoppable, Zuluhed was furious.

"Retreat!" The Dragonmaw chieftain used up all his courage to shout this word.

It's easy to make the orcs attack.

But it takes supreme courage to make the orcs retreat. Because this requires bearing the contempt of other clans, enduring the disdain of almost the entire Horde.

Zuluhed had no choice.

The red dragons that could serve as mounts were too precious, especially after he found out that the red dragons that left the battlefield were flying north. He had a deep sense of foreboding. Clearly, as long as that thing was there, he shouldn't have to worry about these escaped red dragons not coming back. Yet he had a premonition that these damn big lizards would never return.

This anxiety made Zuluhed almost frantic.

The Red Dragonflight, which should have been slaughtering all sides, retreated, running away with their tails between their legs like a beaten dog.

The entire sky echoed with the hearty laughter of the Windrunner sisters.

This was a 'flight' that they hadn't dared to imagine for thousands of years!

In the high sky they had never touched before, with the noble sky lords - the dragon race as opponents, hunting down the dirty and ugly orcs, for the Windrunners, what could be more wonderful than this?

Even the mature and steady Alleria let out a heartfelt laugh.

Her emerald knee-high boots lightly touched the ice pillars that were constantly descending, and the Windrunner sisters, like fairies descending from the sky, stepped down one step at a time.

"Hey, elven beauty, are you recruiting a husband?".

"Goddess—I love you!"

The soldiers from Stromgarde, to the two elven rangers who danced in the sky, gave the warmest cheers.

Alleria brushed her wind-blown golden hair, quickly returning to her dignified ranger general image.

While Queen Sylvanas proudly put her hands on her hips, striking a graceful S-curve, proudly accepting the cheers of thousands of soldiers.

Clearly, the Windrunner sisters killed the most enemies, but the focus of the two sisters was Duke. They knew very well that without Duke, they could not have created such a miracle.

Before thanking Duke, it's better to settle some things first.

"My respected elder sister, what's the score?"

"68!" Alleria held her head high and chest out, unintentionally making the peaks of Mount Hyjal even more tempting.

Sylvanas looked surprised.

"What? My dear sister, did you lose?" Alleria had a happy smile, as if she had successfully consolidated her position as the eldest sister.

Queen Sylvanas shrugged her shoulders and spread her hands: "No loss."

"You won? How many?" Alleria's intuition was very sharp. She was absolutely certain that her younger sister's kill count should definitely not be higher than hers.

Queen Sylvanas sighed: "I didn't win either, I also got 68."

A light of disappointment and joy flashed in Alleria's eyes.

Disappointment because she couldn't establish a strong position as the eldest sister.

Joy because her sister had a strong hand that was in no way inferior to hers.