The tribe is behind the alliance! Garrosh gritted his teeth and wanted to remind the chief of this, but Thrall looked around with a child-like curiosity and surprise.

You disappointed me!

Although he tried his best not to think about it, these words always lingered in his mind. No matter how many times he heard the proud cheers of "Welcome, Commander!" when he passed by other tribe members, no matter how long he stared at the Alliance's station, nothing that could catch his attention could calm the voice. Following the chief, he could hear every word Thrall said to him, accompanied by the sound of his feet falling on the snow.

Perhaps it was because the chief was always by his side that these words kept lingering in his mind.

Thrall decided to bring Garrosh to the Silver Arena. When the leaders of the tribe are all here, the alliance will come, and the two sides will face each other in person, and then... they will inevitably be sarcastic. Hellscream doesn't understand that if Thrall doesn't want to have a conflict with the alliance, then why not bring Sarufal with him? He will definitely humiliate the alliance, he will definitely!

The chief's behavior only made him feel custody, and there was something he didn't let Thrall rest assured. His contempt for the alliance was just one of them, and what made him most angry was that before coming here, Thrall temporarily handed over the command of the War Song Fortress to Sarufar in front of him, explaining that at any time, the troops must be guaranteed to receive instructions from their superiors.

This set of rhetoric only made Garrosh feel hypocritical. He and Thal knew that this was an opportunity. The Lich King was not a fool. He would not sit idly by and watch the Silver Northern Expedition train the most powerful warriors of Azeroth under his nose, so he would definitely take action. Maybe the action has begun, and the tribe can deepen its invasion of Northrend when Arthas was relaxed from being alert outside the Ice Crown Glacier.

This is what a chief should do. It is also what he wants to do. Only victory on the battlefield can demonstrate the power of the tribe.

Garrosh stared at Thrall's back, wondering if Thrall knew he was looking at him. Maybe the Element would tell him that he was a shaman after all, and he always needed to seek guidance from the Element.

So some of his foresight is not his will!

Garrosh spat, walked through the place called the Newbie Arena, and then walked to the doorway to the promenade to the Silver Arena. Someone had been waiting for them for a long time.

"Welcome to you, Chief Thrall, and... Commander Hellscream."

Garrosh looked at the old man who spoke, the paladin who claimed to be a messenger of Ashes. He was so similar to Varoc Sarufal!

"Mr. Fording." Saar smiled and said with the same respect to Tirio's title. "We look forward to a great match."

"Don't count me, Sal." Garrosh said reluctantly.

It's really hard to understand why Thrall had such an attitude towards this old man. He had heard of the story of Itrig. Maybe Tirio Fording has more advantages than other humans, but he is a human after all...

Garrosh's eyes were thrown toward the promenade behind Fordine. There were statues of different races on both sides of the promenade, but none of them were orcs.

"I hope you understand the situation, Garrosh," said Fordin. "I heard about the conflict between the Horde and the Alliance in Northrend long before I landed in Howling Bay. Thankfully, the Alliance's Fearless Fortress is still there."

"I'll be gone soon!" Hellscreamed.

Saar glared at him fiercely: "Enough, Garrosh."

Tirio sighed and said coldly: "If you continue to argue like this, you can't defeat the Scourge."

"All nonsense." Garrosh stepped forward. If Sar hadn't stopped him, he might have grabbed Tirion's neck. "It's easy for the tribe to kill that undead. It doesn't need you, nor does it need that arrogant king."

"Garrosh, enough!" Sal shouted to him in an orderly tone this time.

At this moment, Fording's hoarse voice sounded, stopping the two of them from arguing. "For me, everyone. I believe you will not do anything random." He spread his hands and Thrall noticed the fully armed Northern Expedition soldiers standing behind him.

"I apologize to you for his recklessness. I promise not to use it."

Tirion nodded and waved his guests to follow.

"Ph!" Hellscream mocked the ground and quenched it.

...

Veronara had never been to the territory of the Silver Northern Expedition, which made her more uncomfortable than keeping her in the battlefields of Ultratown away from the Scourge. Nathanos always gave her some strange and awkward tasks. The Forsaken team had been disbanded, and in fact she didn't remember how many people came, but just reminded the contestants to be safe, and then he appeared in a tavern run by the Yaks.

The tavern is dark, crude, dirty, and has an unpleasant smell. But people who need alcohol often don't care about the drinking environment. The Dark Ranger noticed that some people were secretly making fun of her, wanting to see if the wine she had eaten in one sip would leak out from some holes in her body.

Anyway, there was indeed a lot of funny scenes, until another person appeared. She stopped at the door of the tavern, her slender body blocking the sunshine coming in from outside. The guests in the lobby were raising their glasses to drink together. They raised their heads at the newcomer at the same time.

Veronara glanced at her. Through sensing that she was sure that the person was coming. At first she didn't care, but the person accidentally sat next to her. She saw clearly what the other person looked like.

She was wrong and regretted it. She cared very much about who the other party was.

The elf has the same light blonde hair and spotless white skin as the sunset. Although not on the battlefield, she still has a simple armor on her body.

Trouble is here!

Veronara said to herself in her heart.

The yak owner who runs the tavern walked towards the elf and was about to ask her what she needed when the other party threw him a bag of gold coins. "Make sure her wine glass is not empty."

Veronara was shocked, and it seemed that she could not leave.

"Silvanas, the sister of the Regent in Silvermoon City! Are you here to visit my grave? The urine in the chamber pot is better than the wine sold here. But it is indeed cheap and quite exciting. I can't get drunk, but you might have to give it a try."

Sylvanas smiled. Veronara didn't like her at all.

"There is no sister of the Regent here, only the Ranger General of the Silver Covenant." The female elf patted Veronara's back hard, causing the Dark Ranger to almost choke in the wine.

"I heard that you took a group of Queldore who was unwilling to join the tribe to Theramore. Congratulations, you can finally fight your sister openly. But I have to say that your identity looks a bit out of place."

Sylvanas stared at Veronara. "It's not like this. I've been to a place worse than this." General Ranger replied, narrowing his eyes. The tavern owner had already added wine for the Dark Ranger.

"Maybe, maybe," Veronara said, "but why are you not by Ms. Prodmore?"

"The smell of the corpse allows me to temporarily wake up from the smell of sea water."

The atmosphere had become quite tense. Veronara seemed to be surprised at first, but she quickly burst into laughter.

"It seems that your taste is so unique that it's really hard to be complimented. I heard that the reason you and Aurelia are like this is because of a man?"

Sylvanas was a little surprised by this presumptuous insult. But Veronara had made a big mistake and she shouldn't have brought the topic here.

"You are right, of course not completely correct," said Sylvanas. "I have other purposes left Quel'thalas, which is related to Nathanos."

Veronara's pale face froze, holding a wine glass in her hand, and the water drips under the glass fell on the table.

"If you miss it, you might as well go to Maris Farm to see it, where there are only a pile of ruins, and perhaps Nathanos' bones are still there." Veronara recovered from her shock, "You need to be careful, there are still dead." Then she lowered her head to drink.

"It's a must." Sylvanas agreed. "Is the Withered One coming?" She suddenly changed her mind.

Once again, Veronara felt the wine in her throat hard to swallow. The Forgotten leader was the Withered, but no one knew his true identity. Could it be that Sylvanas came to find out the news?

"No, the master didn't come." Veronara replied. Nathanos's identity is special and must not be exposed. The Dark Ranger is not worried about how the outside world will treat Nathanos, but about what Nathanos will do. "If you want to talk to my leader, it seems unfortunate that he is not here."

Sylvanas let out a long sigh, as if somewhat disappointed. "Is it? Nathanos didn't come?"

"Yes." Veronara said, for a moment, she didn't even suspect that Sylvanas's problem itself wasn't right. "Wait, what did you just say?"

"I said Nathanos didn't come, you said yes."

The Dark Ranger frowned. "What do you mean? That person has been dead for many years."

"You have been dead for many years, too."

"This is different. Maybe I should say he was buried for peace."

"Do you know what happened to Hawksbill?"

Seeing the Dark Ranger suddenly stunned, Sylvanas knew exactly what she was going to say next. Veronala's eyes trembled very hard. It was too late. When she knew that the situation was not good, everything was too late.

The unfortunate Forsaken person was about to jump up and run towards the hotel door. The ice blooming on the floor grabbed her feet and fixed her tightly in her seat. The sound of the frozen trap triggered was covered by the shouts of other drunkards. At this time, a short dagger reached her left abdomen.

"Your wine is not finished yet, sisters." Sylvanas smiled at Veronara. "So we haven't finished talking about the topic."

"What do you want to do?" Veronara felt that she could call out a high warning and recruit patrolling Northern Expedition soldiers. But doing so meant that her meeting with Sylvanas would no longer be a secret. Soon, rumors of a dispute arose between the leader of Silver Dawn and the commander of the Forgotten Dark Ranger. Nathanos would know all this.

"I just need you to answer me one question." Sylvanas's voice suddenly became deserted, and he entangled Veronara like a snake. "Your master... is it Nathanos?"

She got it!

Veronara opened her eyes wide, and her voice trembled, "No...No."
Chapter completed!