Chapter 691: He Is My Plan

While the Alliance's artillery shook the north of the Dark Portal, the south remained eerily calm. The Dark Portal, being an oddity fortified upon a spatial rift, doesn't exactly exist on Azeroth, belonging instead to another dimension. Thus, even a thousand more Alliance shells couldn't make a dent in it.

Duke had once considered ambushing the Horde at the Dark Portal, annihilating them as they emerged. A beautiful dream, but harsh reality. Over these two years, he could have arranged such a siege. The issue was that the Alliance's only supply route was from the north. If that route was cut off at three and nine o'clock on a hypothetical clock, all Alliance forces to the south would perish. Hence, Duke reluctantly left the southern area of the Cursed Land untouched.

Now, with Ner'zhul and Thalorien Bloodreaver altering the Dark Portal's orientation from north to south, the newly arrived Horde forces narrowly escaped the artillery bombardment. Still, the ground-shaking saturation attack left them trembling in fear.

They could have caught a breath, but the abrupt appearance of a human noble-like black-haired man terrified Ner'zhul. He feared Thalorien had betrayed him to the Alliance. Fortunately, the man's next actions clarified his identity.

With a sharp command, an overwhelming aura of terror enveloped them. Before Ner'zhul's eyes, the man grew colossal, soon his figure covering the entire sky.

A gigantic black dragon appeared. Its massive horns, despair-inducing scales, solid keratin layers, powerful wings, and razor-sharp claws shook Ner'zhul and the orc chieftains to their core.

What was this?

At that moment, a gnarled hand rested on Ner'zhul's shoulder. Turning, he saw Thalorien's withered face, which seemed mockingly triumphant.

"Ner'zhul, he is the perfect plan I spoke of!"

A bombshell revelation.

Compared to him, the Alliance's ton-heavy artillery shells were mere toys. With him on the Horde's side, how could they not succeed?

Unbeknownst to the Alliance, their heavy artillery created the perfect cover for the black dragon's arrival. The massive explosions and dust clouds obscured the view from the north, and to avoid friendly fire, the Alliance's rogue scouts had retreated.

The massive black dragon transformed back into the elegant human noble, slowly folding its wings. Thalorien stepped forward, bowing respectfully to the human form of the black dragon, then turned to introduce him to Ner'zhul, Kilrogg, Kargath, and the other chieftains: "Allow me to introduce to the Horde's chieftains our most powerful ally in Azeroth, the leader of the Black Dragonflight - Lord Nefarian!"

Kilrogg and Kargath frowned simultaneously. Kilrogg seemed to realize something and chose silence, but the more impulsive Kargath spoke up: "Wait! I recall the Black Dragonflight's leader being someone named Deathwing?"

Suddenly, without any warning, Kargath was sent flying, nose and mouth bleeding. No one saw how Nefarian had acted, but it was clear that the Black Dragon was in a foul mood.

His voice remained elegant, yet tinged with a hint of anger. "The era of Deathwing, Neltharion, has passed! Now, I, the great Black Dragon King Nefarian, lead the Black Dragonflight."

If Duke were present, he would be astonished. Used to seeing the son rise against the father in stories, now he had unwittingly facilitated the ascension of the ambitious former Black Dragon Prince, Nefarian. In a sense, the Alliance gained an advantage, for Nefarian was nowhere near his father's strength.

Yet, from another perspective, the Alliance suffered a loss. Duke, the brain of the Alliance, had no idea Nefarian would emerge at this moment. This unforeseen event, amidst the Alliance leaders' profound trust in Duke, could prove fatal.

After Nefarian mildly punished the impertinent Kargath Bladefist, he gestured lightly. The orcs suddenly found the sky shadowed again.

Ner'zhul and the others looked up to see something approaching from the south, growing larger in the hazy moonlight. They saw orange glows slowly forming diamond shapes. Kilrogg's one eye widened, realizing those glows were molten lava from the beasts' mouths, and the deafening noise was the flapping of immense wings.

Countless black dragons were diving down, awe-inspiring to every orc warrior. As they landed, the ground trembled under their feet, their mouths dripping with steaming liquid fire. Their sleek black scales reflected faint light under the stars, and their claws resembled polished steel.

These dragons, standing on the ground or massive rocks, seemed to merge with the earth, appearing like enormous stone sculptures - yet, they were very much alive and deadly.

When all the dragons had landed, folding their massive wings, their ebony eyes fixed on the orcs, heads and tails gently swaying. The dragons' teeth, within their crimson mouths, interlocked and scraped against each other, creating a terrifying sound.

Orcs are brave, but bravery has its limits. They could charge fearlessly into a human formation ten times their size but dared not raise their axes against a dragonflight only a fraction of their number.

The gaze of a dragon is unsettling, akin to a cat studying its prey before consumption. Almost every orc shivered involuntarily under their scrutiny.

"My subordinates have arrived," Nefarian announced proudly. "The strongest creatures in all of Azeroth!"