I have one more World of Warcraft Necromancer than you

Chapter 303 Strange Visitor

The legend of demons is too old, ten thousand years old, and is only recorded in the books of the Highborne.

It has been more than ten years since the orcs invaded and were captured and enslaved.

What truly destroyed the human kingdom was the undead plague that spread from within... This is how Lordaeron fell, and the shadow of the undead lingers, vivid in our memories.

The shelter on the hillside was somewhat dilapidated, with many buildings crumbling and clearly showing signs of long-term neglect...

This is because many years ago, Thrall led an orc slave rebellion at the foot of Alterac Mountains, captured many orc internment camps, and rescued his fellow orcs. The internment camps here were breached.

It was that achievement that earned Warchief Thrall the support of many orcs.

When Thrall found his mother clan, the Frostwolf Clan... the new main orc tribe was actually composed of the Frostwolf Clan, the Warsong Clan, a small number of scattered orc tribes that were attached to them, and the Mag'har tribe that had returned from Outland.

Orgrim Doomhammer, the true chieftain representing the orc tradition, and Lothar Anduin, the former lion of the old Alliance, both perished. One died in battle at Blackrock Mountain, and the other was mortally wounded and fled to Hammerfall in the Arathi Highlands, where he succumbed to his injuries and died.

Thrall received the Doomhammer, a symbol of the chieftain's power, in Hammerfall.

Find the Frostwolf Clan and travel across the ocean to rebuild the new Horde together with the Warsong Clan!

This part of history will not be elaborated upon here.

Hillsbrad Foothills' internment camps once held many orcs, and their current dilapidated state is naturally the result of the orcs' self-defense. Not only here, but the once world-famous Durnholde Keep, the concentration camp where Thrall grew up, has long been destroyed and turned into ruins.

The Syndicate bandits seized the opportunity to occupy the ruins of Dunholde Castle and kidnapped many nearby residents. Not only human civilians, but even orc laborers who had accidentally wandered off into Alterac Valley became their hostages.

Few people cared about the hostages; the truly powerful and valuable things appeared in the shelter on the hillside of Hillsbrad Foothills.

"Captain, should we report this to the mayor...? I just don't feel at ease."

"Shut up. The mayor is my uncle. I'll explain the situation to him myself. Besides, we're only responsible for providing the venue. The real responsibility lies with the mage lord of Kirin Tor. Just prepare the food and drinks and deliver them on time."

The militia captain frowned, trying to appear calm as he reprimanded his men.

As the nephew of the mayor of Bonn and the militia captain of Hillsbrad Farm, he wielded considerable power. His subordinates were naturally all able-bodied young men from the town. In addition to patrolling and maintaining order, they also had to go back to their own farm work in their spare time.

Under the town mayor's management, these farmers were trained as militia to protect the town.

During this tense period of war, the mayor has pooled everyone's private property and put it under unified management, making Hillsbrad more united and resembling a small kingdom.

The outside help brought in was originally meant to help Hillsbrad Town withstand the tide of the undead, but now it has only increased the pressure on Hillsbrad.

In particular, the Kirin Tor battle mages suddenly brought several mysterious figures from the direction of Lake Lordamere... and hid them in a dilapidated containment camp. The militia captain secretly discovered that these mysterious figures, who were being strictly protected by the mages, were not actually alive...

Those mysterious figures wearing cloaks, though afraid of sunlight, could walk in it.

Based on his experience fighting various dangers over the years, the militia captain concluded that those few were all undead!

The Kirin Tor secretly hid the undead in the shelter. The militia captain didn't know what they were up to, but he dared not say anything... Others might not know, but he knew very well that his uncle had been able to control the entire town of Hillsbrad for many years because of the support of the mages from Dalaran in the past.

"Hey you, come here!"

One second the militia captain was fiercely reprimanding his teammates, the next second an unknown Dalaran mage waved at him, and he could only suppress his expression and scurry over.

"Grand Master, what are your orders?"

"You're too kind. I'm merely a servant of Master Yuvel. I'm just a junior mage, unworthy of the title of archmage. In Dalaran, only official citizens of the Violet Council can become archmages. The masters of the Kirin Tor are all exceptionally talented, and only through competition and election can one become a member of the Kirin Tor council. Becoming an archmage in the Kirin Tor Council is the goal for us unofficial members, something worth striving for our entire lives. In terms of strength, an archmage can single-handedly take on an entire army—that's no exaggeration!"

The mage leader of Dalaran spoke eloquently... his face full of pride, looking longingly down the hillside at the location of the giant crater left behind after Dalaran flew away.

The militia captain quickly flattered him, "You are a mage, and mages are superior beings! Everyone respects mages, and they can fly and teleport... Wherever you go, you are an honored guest, a guest of Dalaran, and we, the people of Hillsbrad, will always respect you... You have helped us so much... Hillsbrad is grateful!"

As he spoke, he patted his chest, then casually swung his arm and struck his subordinate on the head. The subordinate, wincing in pain and surprise, realized what was happening: the captain wanted him to leave...

The militiamen grumbled as they reluctantly went to the farm to transport grain...

He glanced back at the dilapidated shelter one last time and cursed, "Hmph, this wretched building will burn down sooner or later..."

With no outsiders around, the mage lowered his voice to the mayor's nephew: "I'm telling you, don't reveal the secrets of this place, or you, me, and all of Hillsbrad will be in big trouble... If anyone asks, even the mayor or Marshal Garin, you pretend you don't know who lives here, understand!"

The captain quickly nodded and resolutely decided to set up a restricted area for several miles around, declaring to the outside world that this was a military stronghold and a supply base for the lakeside camp, and that no one was allowed to approach it.

At that moment, a stranger appeared on the road leading to Silverpine Forest in the direction of Hillbrad.

He didn't continue towards the outpost occupied by the Dalaran mages in Silverpine Forest, but stopped near Hillsbrad Farm. What greeted the stranger's eyes were countless fruit trees laden with fruit, and in the distance, black smoke billowing from the blacksmith's shop...

Further ahead, you can hear the mooing of cows in the distance... Many farmers are using farm tools to fertilize and water the fruit trees... Some people are picking ripe fruit and transporting it back and forth to the vicinity of the granary by horse-drawn cart.

The place seemed to be filled with basket after basket of fruit and grain, ready to be transported to the lakeside camp along with other supplies.

"What are you doing? What are you looking at!"

"I'm just passing by, I'm lost, and I'd like to visit Dalaran, the former holy city of mages... I wonder if this is the way?"

......