Chapter 7: The Young Dragon Catcher

Armani?! How could they appear in the orc army?! Have these beasts allied with the orcs?

Watching his prey slip away, Prince Drake slammed his fist against the side of the ship in disappointment. He felt dejected and restless, clutching his head. This might be the most painful failure he had ever experienced. Three warships had perished in the sudden onslaught of the young dragon, and the proud prince could not bear the thought of the perpetrator of this massacre escaping just like that

Load the ammunition! Load the ammunition again! This is a cannon handcrafted by the master dwarf, capable of withstanding excessive impact, plus three times!

Tyrion whispered to the calm-faced Lothar, who was currently bandaging his wounds: "Just a little bit more..."

Alas, what a pity

Ugh, this water is really disgusting

That dragon is about to escape! It has killed so many of us, we cannot let it get away

Tyrion looked down at Lor'themar and said softly

Fate... has it been changed

Tyrion emerged from the water, casting a disdainful glance at the orc corpses floating beside him. He lifted his head and saw Lor'themar reaching out to him, the thumb of his left hand already drenched in blood. It appeared that in order to unleash that lethal arrow, he had not even worn his gauntlet.

What exactly have you been through

In Dailin's wide-open eyes, the whistling armor-piercing arrow struck its target with precision, that being the orc riding on the back of the young dragon. As the arrowhead pierced his body in the wind, a tremendous force propelled the shaft forward, penetrating his heart and ultimately creating a horrific gaping wound in his chest.

The admiral held a lit torch, preparing to load and aim. After completing the aim, he turned to look at the two elven rangers beside him, especially at Tyrande, and with a hoarse voice, he chuckled.

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Perhaps the next time we meet, I should address you as My Lord.

"In the name of my family, I swear I will do it! Safe travels, Tyrion!"

Skilled in loading the cannonballs and aiming, at the moment when the young dragon flapped its wings and soared into the sky, the cannon roared, causing even this ship, on the verge of falling apart, to tremble slightly

In the distant horizon, the brewing of the storm has reached its final stage

You are indeed quite relentless

The elven ranger turned to look back, where the unconscious body of Prince Derek was slowly sliding toward the seabed.

Having spoken, Tyrion leaped onto the horse's head, and amidst the neighing of the warhorse, 70 rangers set off on their journey home

Two individuals burst out of the sea, Tyrion gasping for air. As he raised his head, he saw General Gavinrad charging into the battle zone amidst the storm, accompanied by those fearless sailors. The general of Stormwind threw a fishing net towards the two, dragging them onto the ship. Meanwhile, Daelin struggled to sit up, and it was only when he saw Lor'themar and Drak rescued onto another ship that he let out a sudden sigh of relief

Boom

Prince Drake removed his tattered naval uniform, swiftly cleaned the cannon's bore with it, and loaded a chain shot into the muzzle, operated by a naval admiral under the direct command of His Majesty the King, while the heavily soiled knights assisted nearby

Tyrion watched as Lor'themar lifted Drak'thul and charged towards the sea, his eyes narrowing at that moment

Lor'themar shook his head and turned to walk back to the inn in Nanhai Town, as he needed to rest. Just as he stepped into the inn, he was urgently approached by the ranger captain, Selent, who had been left behind by Tyrion.

But Tyrion shook his head at him

Boom

In this moment of life and death, the middle-aged man before me made a plea not as a king, but as a father

He grasped Lothar's arm and pulled him outside the town, where there was a large pit filled with orc corpses thrown there by the soldiers

Oh no! Tyrion's camp!

Bang

Drake excitedly waved his hands to congratulate his father, while at the same moment, the two rangers, Tyrion and Lothermar, clearly saw the trajectory of the young dragon descending. Their expressions changed dramatically, and without hesitation, they each grabbed a survivor and turned to leap into the sea behind them

We succeeded! Father! You did it!

I must take my leave, I should be able to return to the camp by midnight... Remember what I said, Lor'themar, if possible, convey it to your prince, the war between humans and orcs, should be participated in less, as it brings no benefit to Quel'Thalas!

As he watched Lor'themar helpless, Drakthul gritted his teeth. He was not a prince who commanded others; when no one could assist, he preferred to take matters into his own hands. He turned and rushed towards the largest cannon on the deck.

Serent, disregarding the disgusting bloodstains, jumped into the pile of corpses and shouted loudly, pointing at a figure that was clearly different from the other orcs:

A storm of no significant size is raging, yet at the town's dock, some soldiers are stealthily feeding a giant beast.

The other survivors on the ship were not fools; everyone was desperately plunging into the sea at that moment, as far away from the landing point of the young dragon as possible

After the wild whirl of the world, Tyrion opened his eyes in the water. He looked at Dany struggling beside him, reached out to steady his body, shook his legs, and was about to rush towards the surface of the sea, but was forcibly stopped by Dany. The admiral pushed Tyrion's arm, while his other hand pointed behind Tyrion.

But just at the moment before he plunged into the sea, he suddenly turned his head and saw a flash of red rushing towards Drake, it was Ceylon

The long whip wielded by the orc still hovered in the air, his angry face remained fierce, as if he could roar at any moment.

Although he is a prince, he has grown up under the strict demands of Dailin since childhood. He is a major in the Kul Tiras Navy, having risen through the ranks not by relying on his father's reputation, but through direct combat against the vicious pirates who roam the seas.

Faced with the meat thrown into the water by the soldiers, it is somewhat lacking in enthusiasm, yet this does not alter the soldiers' fervor

"Load the ammunition for me, Drake... We have come this far, how can we allow it to escape! Use the chain shot!"

Dalin's meaning is very clear, abandon him, go save his son

Thank you, Ranger, you and your friend have saved us twice... Now, Kul Tiras... owes you both a favor!

Puff!

It was not until this moment that the severely injured warrior king felt the overwhelming weakness throughout his body. Gritting his teeth, he endured the darkening world before him. Just before losing consciousness, the king tightly grasped Tyrion's arm and said in a low voice

As Terrion surged madly through the water, he felt as if a giant hand was pushing him down towards the cold seabed from behind. In that moment, the world spun around him, and he could only cling tightly to the arm of General Dailin beside him, ensuring that the two of them would not be separated. In these waves, given Dailin's current weakened state, if they were to be separated... it would undoubtedly lead to a fatal outcome. Ensuring that the two of them would not be separated, in these waves, given Dailin's current weakened state, if they were to be separated... it would undoubtedly lead to a fatal outcome

I left 30 people here to guard our compatriots

Tyrion, who had just emerged from the water, and Lothar, leaning against the mast on the deck, both let out a sigh of relief. Although it had only been a few short minutes, this adventure was more perilous than any prolonged battle, for a moment's carelessness could lead to total defeat, even resulting in the loss of their own lives.

At the moment when the storm was about to take shape over the waters of Nanhai Town, the triple-charged artillery suddenly "leapt" into action, seemingly just a step away from bursting its chamber. The red-hot shells, enveloped in crimson flames, shot out of the cannon, as the gunpowder, measured to an extremely dangerous level, unleashed its utmost power at that instant

Observing the hustle and bustle of humanity, Tyrion shook his head slightly. He gazed at the dragon soaring farther and farther away, and he spoke softly:

Look here! Captain Lothar...

Ranger! Shoot it down quickly!

Son, are you in despair

Lor'themar stood in place, watching as Tyrian departed. His feelings towards this so-called most outstanding student of the Ranger General were somewhat complex, not only because Tyrian had always overshadowed him at the Ranger Academy, but more importantly, after this incident, Lor'themar keenly sensed that Tyrian, who appeared to be very selfish on the surface, seemed to possess an extraordinary obsession with fate. More importantly, after this incident, Lor'themar keenly sensed that Tyrian, who appeared to be very selfish on the surface, seemed to possess an extraordinary obsession with fate

Aow aow aow

It is the injured young dragon, which was also dragged back by General Gavinrad before the storm arrived, to be sent as a trophy to Lordaeron

Lothar placed his fist on his chest and said softly

Tyrion forcibly embraced the admiral and charged towards the sea. Even from the coldest and most rational perspective, saving a king is far more valuable than saving a prince

It is! Father!

However, accompanied by the swaying of the young dragon's body, the lifeless corpse ultimately fell from the saddle, like a stone, plunging into the cold sea water

Tyrion and Lysa shared a small joke, and after this battle, the awkward relationship between the two slightly changed; at the very least, they were no longer strangers.

The human sailor found him on the shore ... ... it is a troll, a troll mixed in with those orc transport ships! I have checked his tattoos, this is Amani!

For these damned invaders, there is not even a soul willing to grant them a final resting place

As an all-knowing invisible prophet, Tyrion had little interest in the young dragon. He mounted his Quel'dorei steed, and behind him, 70 elven rangers were ready to depart

The red scales have been battered and pockmarked in battle, and the admiral's final strike nearly tore apart its left wing. Now, it is firmly bound to the dock with thick chains, more than half of its body submerged in the water. It seems to have reached some sort of agreement with humanity, transitioning from a state of fury to one of weakness, no longer contemplating escape.

However, they ultimately emerged victorious, yet not everyone is satisfied with this outcome

Dailin, observing coldly, stood up unsteadily while leaning on a long sword. He nodded towards the two elves, embodying the demeanor of a king. Positioned behind the artillery, he watched the young dragon swaying in the sky, about to fly out of range. His hand rested on his son's shoulder

The splash of water it created was no different from the splashes of other corpses that fell into the water. This orc, who had grand ideals and was only a small step away from realizing them, died just like that, struck down by an assassination arrow shot from behind, dying swiftly and cleanly, without even a final word.

"Ranger, do not be so pessimistic; believe in miracles... Therefore, as a return for being saved, our Prodomore family will perform a magnificent feat of dragon slaying before our esteemed guests"

Accompanied by painful screams, the young dragon struggled to flap its wings in the air, but its bound left wing could not unfold at all. Ultimately, it could only spiral helplessly in the air, like a falling meteorite, crashing down towards the surface of the sea behind.

Unable to hit it... it's too far away

Just as Dailin and his son crawled out of the cabin, they saw the shattering arrow of Lossema shoot forth from the war bow. The enchantment on the arrow shimmered with a faint glow, piercing through the dim air like a flash of white lightning. The bowstring of the red-clad ranger trembled rapidly in the air, and this strike was immensely powerful, even producing a whistling sound as it cut through the wind

Lothar shook his head; ordinary arrows were simply incapable of piercing the scales of a dragon, and arrows capable of penetrating dragon scales were not something one could carry at all times

Four hours later, outside Nanhai Town, a farewell is taking place

Under the gaze of Tyrian, the spherical chain ball danced in the air, reaching its highest point before suddenly splitting apart from the center, howling as it sliced through the sea breeze, akin to the rapidly spinning projectiles used by trolls for hunting, precisely striking the wings of the free young dragon, and then, under the manipulation of kinetic energy, it spun rapidly and tightened

The scorching chains entwined around the flesh, and even from a distance, one could see the shattered scales and dragon blood splattering. This precise bombardment, combined with a touch of luck, ultimately strangled the last glimmer of escape for this young dragon

Tyrion whispered a few words, grasped Lothar's hand, and climbed up from the water onto the deck. He turned his head and saw the cannonball fired by Drake; the solid projectile traced a parabolic trajectory in the sea breeze, almost grazing the wings of the young dragon as it flew out.

After 5 seconds, the giant dragon that fell from the sky crashed into the sea, less than 15 yards away from the first ship. At this moment, the sea surface had already been whipped up by the impending storm, and this violent collision directly generated towering waves nearly 5 meters high, effortlessly engulfing the already battered vessels, as if it were a true tidal wave, thrown high into the air and then violently smashed down.

And at the very moment the fiery shell burst forth from the cannon's muzzle

Aow aow aow

Prince Drake, who ran out of the cabin, pointed at the young dragon changing direction in the sky and anxiously shouted to Lor'themar

In the fragments of memory that linger in his mind, Dailin will not die in the Second War of the Orcs, just as Tyrian said, his fate does not lie here. As for his son, unfortunately, perhaps the brave prince perished in this naval battle, and the two are too far apart. In such turbulent tides, even if Tyrian were to abandon Dailin now, he might not be able to save Drake.

On the distant sea where a storm is approaching, the cries of the young dragon made Tyrion unable to help but look back. The human survivors were being rescued onto wooden rafts, and some soldiers were wrapping chains around the young dragon's body, seemingly intending to drag it back to South Sea Town

Whoosh

I have fulfilled the promise I made to you, and I hope you do not let me down, Selong

This is fate, an unchangeable fate

At that moment, Lothar's eyes widened, and in the next moment, he associated it with something even more dangerous, his gaze suddenly turning towards the northeast