The distance from the Alterac Mountains to the Hinterlands is not dazzling. Between the two mountains in different directions, there is only Hillsbrad, a hilly plain.

After a night's flight, the well-trained Wildhammer Gryphon carried Blake over Stannbraid City and Icewind Hills, and arrived near the Eagle's Nest Mountain in the Hinterlands.

Wildhammer dwarves are also dwarves.

Although they call themselves children of the sky.

But they can't ride griffons in the sky all day and night. They always have to live on the ground, and their architectural style is not much different from the Bronzebeard dwarves.

In the valley of the towering Eagle's Nest Mountain, sits Wildhammer Castle. Built against the mountain, it is a large fortress and a stone city.

Apart from the lack of a great furnace, it is not much different from the Ironforge of the Bronzebeard Dwarves.

Since the death of Modimus, the King of the Mountains, two hundred and thirty years ago, the War of Three Hammers broke out among the dwarves.

After the Wildhammer dwarves lost their homeland of Grim Batol in the wetlands, most of their clansmen lived in new homes far away from their ancestral homeland.

The Wildhammer Prince Cardross Wildhammer who led them to migrate here has died of old age, and the Wildhammer dwarves have adapted to their new home.

However, the Hinterland, which has been peaceful for two hundred and thirty years, has now been broken by the flames of war brought by invaders from another world.

In the early morning light, when Blake was sitting on a gryphon landing on the gryphon fence platform at the top of Wildhammer Castle, he looked down and could easily see the human knights gathered outside the castle.

They established a temporary camp there, and some new recruits were training. Groups of knights left the camp and headed deeper into the Hinterlands. There were also many Wildhammer Griffins constantly rising and falling.

Those were the wounded brought back from the front line, as well as many black bags...body bags.

There are humans and dwarves.

It seems that the war in the Hinterlands has just broken out, and the fighting is already very intense.

"Scout Black Shaw of the Third Fleet, formerly of the Kul Tiran Navy, comes to report! Sir, this is my transfer order."

Black quickly found the commander of the human army in the temporary war hall of Wildhammer Castle. He originally thought he could meet General Turalyon, the legendary Knight of the Silver Hand.

But the person who received him was just a major with a bandage on his arm.

"Ah, the legendary orc killer is here! What exciting news."

The major grabbed the transfer order with several seals in his hand, and glanced at the commendation order underneath the transfer order that was used to prove his identity. The family seal of Marshal Lothar was very important.

The major, who was already under great pressure, suddenly beamed.

He returned the commendation order to Blake, patted his shoulder enthusiastically, and introduced to him:

"The Hinterlands are lacking everything now, but they don't lack damn greenskins. A warrior like you will definitely be able to kill here. Oh, please introduce yourself.

My name is Fairbanks.

A vassal of Duke Mograine, he currently serves as the commander of General Turalyon's legion. General Turalyon is currently leading a team near Lake Varowen to help the high elf Lady Alleria and her rangers.

them.

Not only were the Blackrock Orcs there, they broke into a prison camp of high elves in the hills and rescued the leader of the trolls, a bastard named Zul'jin.

So now here, there is a group of Amani trolls who hate barbarism to help the greenskins build a battle line.

The war was very fierce, but within seven days, we lost one-tenth of our men.

The good news is that the orcs can't stand it anymore.

The bad news is, we lost track of that bastard Orgrim!"

Major Fairbanks shook his fist fiercely to express his dissatisfaction.

He led Blake to the military map in the war room, pointed to the three red crosses on it, waved his finger further north, and said:

"That bastard must have left the Hinterlands and gone to Quel'Thalas of the high elves. Ms. Alleria is very anxious. She is eager to return to her hometown to support her compatriots.

But the front line has been unable to be opened, and there is nothing we can do.

The orc governor here is a very troublesome man named Varok Saurfang. He is quite cunning and powerful. He just relied on the orcs and trolls who are not as numerous as us to block our pursuit."

Blake nodded. He looked at the tactical map in front of him. It was indeed a criss-crossed situation. The Hinterlands was a mountainous area. The large armies could not form a line, so they could only fight for the front with small groups of armies.

This is the traditional sphere of influence of forest trolls.

In addition to the Amani trolls, the Hinterlands also have the very powerful Vilebranch trolls, who even established their own cities in the Hinterlands.

Its scale is no smaller than Wildhammer Castle.

The good news is that although the Evil Branch trolls are close relatives of the Amani trolls, they obviously do not intend to devote all their strength to the orc war.

This relieved great pressure on the combined forces of humans and Wildhammer dwarves.

"I've heard your story, warrior, and I know your strengths and fighting methods, so I won't give you any specific tasks."

Major Fairbanks pointed to the tactical map and said to Blake:

"Freely choose your hunting ground, and then help us get rid of those greenskins, the more the better!"

"Where are the most orc commanders?"

Blake asked.

Fairbanks laughed, grabbed a simple map, drew a dozen small circles on it with a quill, rolled it up, handed it to Blake, and said:

"These are the strongholds of the orc team that we have discovered so far. When you go there, be careful of the local trolls. Those guys have ambushed many of our scouts in the past few days due to their familiarity with the terrain."

"Okay, I'll take a rest."

Blake put away the map, nodded to Fairbanks, and said briefly:

"I need a quieter room, something to eat, and I'll set off in the afternoon."

"No problem. Although this is a battlefield, it is more than enough to arrange these for a warrior."

The major laughed loudly again, called his guard over, and asked him to take Blake to rest in a stone house on the upper floor of the castle.

Full of dwarf style.

Almost everything in the house is made of stone, except for a table and a warm fireplace burning.

Blake closed the door, walked to the stone grooved window, and looked out.

The gryphon knights of the Wildhammer dwarves took off just at this moment, and a dozen majestic armored griffins flew high into the sky, carrying the wildhammer muscular sticks who shouted and had blue war patterns on their bodies.

The waists of these sky knights are covered with flying hammers blessed by their mountain shamans. When thrown out, they will cause thunder to dance. The destructive power is quite amazing, and it is also their specialty combat skill.

Muradin Bronzebeard is very good at this dwarf-style flying hammer strike, which they call "Storm Hammer".

"call"

Black took off his leather armor, revealing his thin body. He then took out the unconscious little fishman Benbolba from the backpack on his waist. This poor little guy was poured with dragon's blood last night.

The tender scales are covered with burns.

If it weren't for its body temperature, Blake would have thought it had been burned to death.

But the dragon's blood is indeed changing the life of this little fishman. Its burned scales have fallen off, and new scales have grown out just overnight.

And it's tougher than before.

"Dragon blood enhancement has proven to be effective."

The pirate put the unconscious little fishman into the basin next to him, took out several large bottles of pungent-smelling dragon's blood from his luggage, put them under his nostrils and sniffed.

As for the smell... yuck.

"Hey, have you slept enough?"

Blake did not drink the dragon's blood recklessly. Being burned by dragon fire once was miserable enough for him to learn a lesson. He took out the soul-inducing lamp, placed it on the table, and reached out to knock on it.

"Squeak, I have something to ask you."

Sephiel in the soul-inducing lamp was obviously very weak. Under Blake's tapping, she responded in an inaudible voice:

"I need to rest, a long rest. The dragon's soul may not be tougher than you humans, especially when this damn lamp cut off half of my soul.

What are you asking?"

"How to use your dragon blood?"

Blake asked directly:

"Will it take effect if you drink it directly?"

"It will poison you if you drink it."

Sephiel's tone became a little more intense, but soon weakened again. It said in a lonely tone:

"We bronze dragons are different from red dragons. We control time, not life, but time is a kind of poison, and mortal bodies cannot withstand this kind of erosion.

The blood of the bronze dragon has no effect of strengthening vitality.

It is harmful to you, and the blood of other dragons is not as powerful as you think. Bathing in dragon blood is mostly a bizarre story told by mortals, and it is not worth listening to."

"But it does work, right?"

Blake was playing with a small bottle, looking at the thick blood in it, and said:

"As far as I know, the blood of the red dragon can strengthen vitality and drive away weakness.

Blue dragon blood is the magical blood that mages crave. As for the green dragon, the druids of the Kaldorei night elves occasionally use the green dragon scales to release natural spells.
To be continued...