Chapter 1066: The Gathering of Armies

Emerald Dream Realm, the city of Lorelia.

“To maintain the peace of the world, I will vanquish them in my master’s name!”

“For the horde! To spread the glory of my master across all the realms, we will crush them!”

“For Soraya’s gifts, and for the eternal friendship of Lorelia and Dirtclaw, we will annihilate them!”

Soraya couldn’t help but laugh. Perched atop Dirtclaw’s back, Lorelia was a whirlwind of adorable seriousness, brandishing the longsword Orion had given her. She pointed it toward the sky, shouting slogans as she reviewed her little spiders, who were marching in an orderly line into their transport Nest.

Ever since receiving Orion’s order to join the battle in another realm, Lorelia had been vibrating with excitement, and she had dragged Soraya into this little departure ceremony. The most ridiculous part was Dirtclaw, the shameless Hell-Drake Hound, who was gleefully playing along, barking out his own versions of her chants.

“For the eternal friendship of Lady Lorelia and Dirtclaw, we will annihilate them!”

“For the horde! For Lady Lorelia! For my Lord, we will annihilate them!”

The two of them chanted until they both burst out laughing.

“Lady Soraya, you just wait! Lorelia will bring you back lots and lots of presents!” Lorelia promised, her face beaming.

During her time assisting Arthas in the Godforsaken Land, Soraya had received a parting gift—two strange fruits that could enhance one’s power. Upon returning to Lorelia, she had eaten one, ascending to the rank of an upper-tier legendary powerhouse.

She gave the second to Lorelia, who advanced to a middle-tier lord. Dirtclaw, her loyal mount, had also reached the upper-tier legendary rank. Arthas, the demigod boss, was nothing if not generous.

Dirtclaw was itching for a real fight. Guarding the sand scorpions Nest in the Godforsaken Land hadn’t been nearly exciting enough. Now, he was more than ready to accompany Lorelia to the Silverwood Realm.

“Be careful,” Soraya said, her tone shifting from amusement to seriousness. This was for Lorelia. Then, she looked at the massive hound. “Protect her.”

***

To the south, the city of Marina.

The assembly of the Stoneheart Horde’s five regular armies, plus one newly recruited legion, had not gone unnoticed. The six armies massing in Marina City, combined with the fleet of Sea-Devouring Warships moored in the harbor, had set tongues wagging among citizens and spies alike.

“Has a war started?”

“Which faction is stupid enough to pick a fight with the Stoneheart Horde?”

“There are so many warships… are we going to war with the Sea Race again?”

“That can’t be right. There’s been no official war declaration within the Horde.”

“It’s strange. If there was a war, the city alarms would be sounding. We’d be on high alert…”

Rumors swirled through the streets, passed between clueless newcomers, high-ranking Tribe members with connections, and grizzled veterans who had survived the first war for this very city. No one knew what was going on, but one thing was certain: the Stoneheart Horde was on the move. And that critical piece of intelligence was already on its way back to the Sea-Drake race.

In the military camp near the port, Rendall looked up at the fortress carved into the cliffside above. “See that? Another great city of our Stoneheart Horde!” he boomed with pride.

Marina, the city’s lord and guardian, stood on the cliff’s edge, her powerful aura blanketing the city below—a silent reassurance to all that they were watched over by their lord.

“I was stationed here for a while, back in the day,” Drakthul said, standing beside Rendall. “It’s changed so much.” They weren’t just looking at Marina; they were looking at what she represented—a true lord of their people.

Elsewhere in the camp, the mood was far more somber. For Beyn and Torba, this place held a painful memory. Otho, their brother-in-arms, had died here during the brutal early days of the city’s construction, fighting the Sea Race.

Now, Dace was in the Silverwood Realm, and they were being deployed overseas with Marina. The four guards who were supposed to stand by Orion’s side were scattered, one to the grave. Returning to this place, they felt no excitement.

“Dace was right,” Beyn said, his gaze fixed on the western horizon, where Otho’s memorial stood. “This separation is temporary. It’s so we can become strong enough to stand by His Majesty’s side again, to follow our king even further.”

“The way we are now, we don’t deserve the title of ‘guard’,” Torba added, his voice low. No one else in the Tribe would say it, but they knew the truth. Did an arch lord like Orion really need four Alpha-level guards? The answer was no.

That’s why they had volunteered to leave, to join the armies, to throw themselves onto the battlefield. It was the only way they could one day earn the right to return to his side.

“We have to try,” Beyn said, clapping Torba on the shoulder. “If Dirtclaw can endure it, if he can face those battles, so can we.”

For now, all they had was each other.

***

Silverwood Realm, Augurath Sanctuary.

After the Black Tower’s teleportation array was repaired, the first forces to arrive were not Orion’s, but the Deputy Commander’s.

It was the first time Orion had ever seen his ally’s formal armies, and they were a sight to behold. There were two legions. One was a force of melee troops, clad head-to-toe in immaculate silver plate, divided into disciplined phalanxes of warriors and knights.

The other army was composed entirely of mages. They were organized into three distinct wings, identifiable by the color of their robes. Black for the necromancers, crimson for the destructive elementalists, and pure white for the abjurers and enhancers who specialized in support magic.

As Orion stared at the ten-thousand-strong mage army, a wave of pure, unadulterated envy washed over him. He was practically drooling.

“Deputy Commander, could I possibly…”

“No.”

The arrival of his troops had drawn the Deputy Commander down from the sixth floor of the tower. He cut Orion off before he could even finish the question.

“Don’t even think about it,” Alexander’s phantom said, appearing beside Orion. The fact that the Deputy Commander had deployed his main forces told Alexander everything he needed to know. This wasn’t a casual intervention. He was taking the threat of the clown, the Witch, and the Cult of Four with the utmost seriousness.