Chapter 478: Making Contact

In that fleeting moment, the young female dragon had two choices.

The first was to become a loyal hound to the orcs and reveal the location of Duke and his companions. If so, she would undoubtedly face their fierce attacks. The most likely outcome would be her death.

It was also a matter of pride.

If Duke and his companions had shown panic, or if Duke had opened a portal early on to prepare for escape, the young female dragon wouldn't have been so afraid.

However, now, the one most capable among her peers was lying dead. Fresh blood was still oozing from the severed neck, not quite the spectacle of blood spraying tens of feet, but still a frightening sight.

What kind of mage could easily kill a millennia-old dragon?

The young female dragon didn't dare to imagine.

Looking at Duke's peculiar face and the bursting confidence in his smile, the young female dragon naturally took it as a warning—keep your mouth shut, or you'll end up like him.

So, without hesitation, the young female dragon chose the second option.

She feigned ignorance.

After all, if the Dragon Queen was rescued, they might have to mingle with humans and elves in the future. The former Council of Tirisfal's cooperation with the four Dragonflights had a history of a thousand years.

The young female dragon murmured in the Dragon language: "I saw nothing."

She was unsure if they heard her, but the next second, a line of text made of arcane energy appeared in the young human's hand. It was written in the standard Dragon language, bearing the name of the head of the Red Dragonflight: Alexstrasza.

Young female dragon: "Understood."

"Hey! Mount, what are you roaring about?" the orc on the dragon's back rudely asked.

"Nothing, my throat's just itchy," the young female dragon reluctantly replied in her unskilled Orcish.

The high-speed flight was but a fleeting moment for those below. If dragons could sweat, the young female dragon would be soaked, as if pulled from water.

The shadow of the dragon receded, and several people among the five-person group below finally let out a sigh of relief.

The danger had passed, and now the question of how to wrap things up was on the agenda.

Ronin touched the back of his head, as if holding his breath, then let it out all at once: "Everyone, I'm sorry. I messed up again. I..."

"Who said you messed it up?" Duke seriously bluffed, "I saw potential in you and attracted the enemies to teach you how to use your magical talents. I'm the one who should be sorry for using you as bait without you knowing."

Wait, was this true?

Ronin was stunned. The initial orcs could have been slaughtered by Gavinrad alone if he hadn't acted.

Duke sneered, turning to ask Maryann, "Did you hear the Dragon language from that dragon just now?"

Unaware of why Duke wanted to protect Ronin's self-esteem, but since Duke was the team's leader, Maryann was happy to do him a favor, "Congratulations, Duke, you've successfully made contact with the Red Dragonflight."

After speaking, Maryann translated the young female dragon's Dragon language.

The other three were once again shocked, their mouths agape.

Is that even possible?

"The war-loving Red Dragons are, after all, a minority. Killing this one rids us of a menace. By the results, our battle was perfect. No one was injured, and we've made contact. Also..."

Duke uttered a brief incantation, and a massive portal opened. In front of the four, a semi-ghostly mage with a huge magical construct stepped out of the blue oval portal.

"Master, what do you command?" the speaker was Khadgar.

Originally a world-renowned figure, he suffered a tragic turn of fate and perished before he could make a name for himself.

Duke pointed to the enormous dragon corpse, "The usual way."

Khadgar's mouth twitched, "Master Duke, I must remind you, the essence of the Red Dragonflight is kind."

Duke confidently declared, "Right now, our factions are at war, and we are on our way to rescue Alexstrasza. If Her Majesty the Dragon Queen is that petty, I'll make her pay."

"Alright, you're the master, you have the final say." Khadgar waved his hand, summoning more arcane constructs from the portal. Under his direction, they expertly dissected the dragon's corpse.

The once-promising third-generation Red Dragon, Gizlara, who had the potential to become an ancient dragon, was thus dissected, sliced, packaged, and transported away before everyone's eyes, all in less than twenty minutes. Khadgar's "Skinning Technique" was clearly masterful.

"I believe now that you killed over three hundred Red Dragons in Alterac," Maryann laughed.

Internal reports within the Alliance included magical images, but the proud elves always felt that humans exaggerated their reports and inflated their achievements.

Otherwise, why were the elves beaten by 50,000 orcs, while the human side, with only 20,000 to 30,000 men, had the orcs struggling? Wasn't that saying the high elves were inferior to humans?

Deep down, the elves could not accept this fact.

Khadgar shrugged, "I didn't want to, but after cutting up hundreds of Red Dragons, I can now dismember one with my eyes closed."

What was Duke doing at this moment?

He was reflecting and silently laughing.

Two great mages of Azeroth: Khadgar's tale was tragic, and unless he later joined the Lich King, his life would remain so. As for Ronin... Duke truly wondered if Ronin could rise to his "historical" heights in this life.

But this was no longer Duke's concern.

When dozens of arcane constructs modeled after Karazhan's Curator had cleaned up the site, Khadgar took his minions and left.

"Alright, what do we do now?" Gavinrad looked at the supplies returned from Karazhan and worried about not having enough horses to transport them.

Because storing food in a mage's bag sometimes caused it to taste off.

Duke suddenly laughed, pointing with his thumb behind him, "Why don't we ask our friends over there?"

What Duke's side was up to, outsiders could not know.

In Grim Batol, transformed into a human form, the Dragon Queen Alexstrasza, who had been writhing in agony on the cold floor, suddenly opened her eyes.

The willingness of the Red Dragonflight to be enslaved by the orcs lay in the soul-level connection of the entire flight.

The Queen's will was absolute. Likewise, the lesser Red Dragons served as support for the Queen's power.

That day, Alexstrasza once again felt the loss of the Red Dragonflight.

For those dragons with only animal instincts and the young dragons with the intelligence of five- or six-year-old human children, their loss was not significant. Strictly speaking, unless they possessed a complete sense of self, they couldn't truly be considered part of the Red Dragonflight.