Led by Rhodes, the team moved cautiously along the tragic path paved with the skeletons of countless Draenei—a path the Orcs had perversely named the "Path of Glory."
The air was thick with the stench of sulfur, and from the distance came the intermittent roars of demons and the sound of massive wings beating against the sky. The red earth was cracked, and twisted vegetation clung stubbornly to life, all of it serving as a testament to the devastating blow this world had suffered.
"Stay alert! This place doesn't welcome the living," Dathrohan warned the team loudly.
Advancing along this shattered road was far from safe; demons frequently lunged from the shadows to ambush the group. However, the contingent included over twenty Paladins and ten Priests.
Rhodes had also summoned fourteen Light Elements and even released two of his Great Archangels of Light. As these celestial beings manifested, a wave of tranquility washed over the team—the Archangels' "Morale +1" effect was in full swing.
To further ensure their safety, Rhodes layered the group with buff magic: Shield, Stone Skin, Haste, Bloodlust, and other enhancements. Along the way, many demons threw themselves at the group, only to be utterly purified by Holy Light before they could even get close.
"Face the Light, demon!" a young priestess shouted, raising her staff as a pillar of golden radiance struck a flying demon in the distance.
The creature shrieked and charged, clearly more enraged than injured by the strike. However, the two Great Archangels of Light instantly streaked through the air like twin golden bolts, slicing the Greater Demon into four pieces from the left and right.
The veterans were already used to such displays. While they had been cautious at the start, seeing the terrifying combat power of the Archangels had emboldened the younger priests and mages. They began intentionally sniping distant demons just to watch them be obliterated by the Archangels or the Light Elements.
"Sally Whitemane, stop playing around. As a qualified priest, your primary task is to provide healing to your allies, cast buffs, or dispel malicious curses—not to pull aggro from distant demons," Rhodes said, turning to look at the young woman in the tight red uniform.
This was none other than one of the famous "Four Beauties of the Scarlet Crusade," and by far the most renowned of them—known to some as "High Inquisitor Great-White-Legs." In another timeline, she would have been one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, but given the current state of affairs, that dark future was unlikely to pass.
"My apologies, Grand Marshal Rhodes. I simply find these foul creatures infuriating. The Light should purify them," Whitemane replied.
The elder Mograine also stepped in to stop his adopted daughter, telling her not to provoke distant enemies.
Whitemane's connection to the Holy Light was incredibly intense; in some respects, she was the most powerful priestess of the younger generation, being the only one capable of casting Resurrection.
However, her version of the spell had significant limitations and was a far cry from Rhodes's Resurrection magic. Due to her zealotry, she harbored an extreme hatred for demons and undead, bordering on fanatical worship of the Light.
Rhodes nodded and said no more. At the very least, every demon lured in and killed served as experience points for him. He was currently in the mid-teens, and every subsequent level required a mountain of experience.
The battle with the Dreadlord's undead had nearly filled his bar; he estimated he would hit Level 16 during this Outland excursion. At that point, he planned to raise his Power to 15 to further enhance his spell potency, while perhaps upgrading his Air or Water magic to Expert or increasing his Intelligence to boost his mana pool.
The group hadn't traveled much further before they were spotted by a patrol of snarling, red-skinned Orcs. These Orcs had glowing red eyes and were wreathed in a faint green fel aura, appearing far more savage and bloodthirsty than the Orcs of the Old Horde on Azeroth.
"For the Horde! Shred these invaders!" the lead Orc captain roared, raising his battle-axe as he charged.
These Orcs still had green skin, but their eyes had already turned red—they were in the transitional stage of becoming Fel Orcs. All they needed was one more drink of a Pit Lord's blood to turn their skin red and grow demonic traits like bone spikes or horns.
"For the Alliance! For Lordaeron! Warriors, engage!" Rhodes commanded.
The Ashbringer was the first to strike. Mograine showed no fear, his legendary blade carving a searing arc through the air as it crashed down.
Holy Light and Fel energy collided violently, erupting in a blinding flash. The Orc captain and his axe were instantly vaporized by the overwhelming radiance.
The Ashbringer's power was immense, especially in the hands of its original master. While some believed Tirion Fordring was the weapon's greatest wielder, it was actually Mograine who pushed the blade to its absolute limit—he was a powerhouse of pure martial might.
Even Kel'Thuzad had found him impossible to defeat in direct combat, eventually resorting to a conspiracy with a Dreadlord to orchestrate his death. The Light's Judgment sword Rhodes had crafted using the Shadow Core was powerful, but it still felt a step behind the original Ashbringer in raw potency.
The battle erupted in an instant. Paladins held the frontline, their Holy Shields glowing as they deflected every blow. Behind them, the Blood Elf Spellbreakers wove through the ranks, their twin-bladed glaives specifically designed to neutralize magic, proving devastatingly effective against the Orcs' fel-tainted armor.
The human mages led by Rhonin and the Blood Elf mages under Kael'thas chanted their spells, raining Fireballs, Frostbolts, and Arcane Missiles down on the Orcs like a storm.
Rhodes didn't even have time to summon his army of Gold or Iron Golems, nor his Phoenixes, before the battle drew to a close. Everyone in this team was a top-tier professional; even the "weakest" mage was an Archmage-in-training, and the Paladins were all veterans.
The skirmish ended quickly. The small Fel Orc patrol was annihilated without leaving a ripple. Only a few Alliance members had sustained minor scratches, which were promptly healed by the priests.
"These monsters are truly evil by nature. Look at them, Marshal Rhodes; they are completely tainted by Fel. Orcs are a naturally wicked race," Whitemane remarked.
In truth, she had previously admired Rhodes as a great hero for standing up during Lordaeron's darkest hour and protecting the Princess. He was a hero to the entire Alliance for his deeds at Mount Hyjal.
However, she was deeply dissatisfied with one thing: why had this great hero agreed to a ceasefire with the Horde? There were even rumors he intended to hold peace talks. To her, these filthy Orcs were world-invaders who didn't deserve to live.
"They are indeed warlike, and I never said they were 'good.' Little girl, do you have a problem with me?" Rhodes asked, narrowing his eyes. Back at Southshore, she had been quite respectful, but since joining this expedition, she had been subtly insubordinate.
"Don't misunderstand, Marshal," Mograine said, stepping over. "The girl admired you greatly, but your peace agreement with the Orcs upset her. Many in the Alliance feel the same way." He knew exactly what his adopted daughter was thinking; the hatred for Orcs was bone-deep among the survivors.
Rhodes let out a short laugh. He thought it was something serious, but it was just this!
"I never said I was allied with the Orcs. It's just that having just defeated the Burning Legion and still needing to deal with the Scourge, we have too many problems. Turning on the Horde now wouldn't be wise. But rest assured, I am not a proponent of eternal peace with them," Rhodes said with a smile. As long as Thrall was in charge, a fragile peace could hold; once he was gone, the Orcs' true nature would likely resurface, and Rhodes wouldn't hesitate to act then.
"Grand Marshal, a peace of convenience with the Horde is necessary for now. You are doing the right thing; don't change your mind based on the words of others," Mograine said.
Human civilization had taken a massive hit, and now was not the time for a full-scale war. Most veterans with strategic vision supported Rhodes' decision—excluding, of course, those like a certain Admiral whose hatred was insurmountable.
This new Grand Marshal is getting quite cozy with the Princess of Kul Tiras, Mograine thought. What will you do when your potential father-in-law demands war?
"Don't worry, Ashbringer. I have my own vision. I know when to act and when to wait," Rhodes replied.
"Then I am at ease, Marshal. But remember: sometimes, when facing certain people, you must be firm and not offer too many explanations," Mograine advised.