Chapter 710: Heaven to the Left, Warriors to the Right

"Kill them all!"

"For the Horde!"

The entire Southshore was thrown into utter chaos.

Countless members of the Alliance and the Horde, along with a horrific mess of flesh and corpses, intertwined under the setting sun of this frontier town, painting a grim shadow of crimson and black.

"Waaahahaha... Stop chasing me! There’s a dying Paladin right over there, why aren’t you guys going after him instead?!" Inside the Yuan-Yang City branch, a massive white deer was seen sitting on a computer chair, wailing in despair while frantically manipulating the little Druid on the screen into a wild sprint.

"For the Alliance! Yo-hahahaha! This Alliance player actually died on his own! Killed by the guards, hahahaha, this is killing me!" The deer burst into another fit of laughter, clutching its stomach.

"Little Bell!" A crisp, clear voice echoed from behind. "My leave for the worldly trial has been approved! Do you want to come with me to the boss's place for some fun?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" A bright light gleamed within a pair of deer eyes that resembled dark gemstones. "I want to see the cute elves! And are the orcs over there as hopelessly dense as the tauren?"

With that, it hurriedly removed the virtual reality headset.

Behind them, it left a massive host of Alliance and Horde players still slaughtering each other into oblivion.

"Ah-hahaha... I think I'm about to rank up in military rank!"

"Me too!"

"Frostbolt!"

"Presence of Mind!"

"Bladestorm!"

On the screen, humans, dwarves, orcs, and elves battled in a chaotic tangle, creating an incredibly messy scene.

At this moment, Boss Fang had merely gathered a few members of his own 'Heaven-Defying Online Game Guild' to complete quests and level up. Of course, despite bearing a ridiculously domineering name, this online gaming guild had always been a casual one at heart, operating on the principles of harmony and friendship, with a bunch of slacker players chatting and shooting the breeze in the guild channel every day.

"Boss!"

Boss Fang looked over, only to find it was Jiang Xiaoyue.

"Didn't you promise to take me to see the elves?! (Angry)"

"Ah... Did I say that?" Boss Fang was still dueling in Orgrimmar at the moment, having just thrashed an orc warrior. He thought about it for a second. "I think I might have..."

"What do you mean 'might have'?!" Jiang Xiaoyue was so infuriated she practically wanted to bite someone. "You forgot, didn't you!"

Boss Fang's face stiffened. Intent on playing games over the past few days, he really had forgotten all about it!

"Ah... that... absolutely not!" Boss Fang put on a face that claimed he never lied to anyone. "Your boss has been incredibly diligent with official business lately, so I just haven't had much time! That’s all there is to it."

"Then when will you have time?! Hmph!"

"I have time right now!"

"Alright then! This princess will graciously choose not to hold a grudge against you for now! Then today, I'm bringing Little Bell along to see the elves!"

"No problem!" After all, Boss Fang still bore the responsibility of promoting harmonious and friendly development among the various shops. "Are you at the shop? I'll come over."

...

Boss Fang ascended to the second floor, heading toward the staff dormitory area, where a large golden lattice door with an exceptionally peculiar pattern stood.

Boss Fang knocked on the door.

"Hmm? No reaction?"

At this exact moment, inside the Half-City shop.

A dark cloud floated near the counter inside the store. In the Horde's wartime coordination channel for the Half-City branch, an ID named Demonic God Heavenly Venerable was currently holding the main microphone: "Wipe them clean! Wipe out all the Alliance players over here for me! Cue the music! Turn on Warsong! Everyone follow me! Do you see the front? Why are these Alliance players still standing there stupidly? Exterminate them! Wipe them all out!"

It was incredibly passionate, with Penguin messenger notifications flashing frantically.

Switching out of the window, he replied: "Who is it? Don't disturb this venerable one's commanding!"

Boss Fang delivered a sharp kick right onto the door.

At this time, a group of orcs sitting in the Horde's wartime coordination channel suddenly heard a heart-wrenching, agonizing wail.

Coordination Channel: "Wipe them out for me! Wi—Awoo—! Awoooo—!"

Demonic God Heavenly Venerable: "I... this venerable one has an urgent matter... which one of you can take over the mic for a moment!"

"Awoo—! Ah—!"

He logged off as if his pants were on fire.

Black Demon: "Holy crap! The commander is gone, how the hell are we supposed to fight!"

"Not fighting anymore, not fighting anymore!"

"Disband, disband!"

"Old Black, aren't you going to command?" several cultivators from the White Dragon Mansion asked.

"No way, no way, I only have a few dozen minutes left before I have to log off."

...

"What happened?" At this moment, inside the new Canglan City shop.

The new shop had grown increasingly massive, or rather, under spatial folding, the new shop should really be called several new shops.

As previously mentioned, Boss Fang had prepared tens of thousands of computers, with the layout still mimicking the old shops, though different zones existed in separate folded spaces.

An orc with a lion's head looked around at his surroundings with a look of confusion.

The number of Horde players was dwindling rapidly. After the guild members departed, only a massive swarm of headless flies—independent players—remained in place.

By now, the Alliance forces, nearing two thousand strong, swept over like a dark, suffocating tide.

"Why did everyone leave?! Why is there no one left?!" A few orcs who had just resurrected were sweating profusely with anxiety. Watching the massive horde of Alliance players charge up, the Horde players retreated one after another, instantly scattered into pieces.

"Charge! Go up and kill a few more! Kill as many as we can!"

Charge!

Bladestorm!

In barely ten seconds, they were already lying dead on the ground.

Like a black torrent, the Alliance surged into Tarren Mill to the north.

A few level-twenty newcomers, who had just arrived here for quests and only had time to take a single glance at this Horde camp, were instantly submerged by this raging flood.

Seeing Tarren Mill trampled into utter ruin, a group of orcs felt their eyes turn bloodshot with rage.

Having just run back from the graveyard to retrieve their corpses, they arrived from the outside only to find the area densely packed with Alliance players like a plague of locusts, numbering at least a thousand.

There were also the corpses of the Horde newcomers littering the ground.

Several orcs hoisted their long blades and hand-axes high into the air and charged straight in.

"For the... Horde—!"

And in the very next instant, they were completely overwhelmed.

A minute later, a few orcs who had run back as ghosts resurrected once more amidst the crowd, only to be overwhelmed yet again.

During this era of World of Warcraft, every single death brought with it exorbitant equipment repair bills, but at this moment, they completely ignored it, and soon the figures of those few orcs could be seen again.

Then, they fell once more.

Perhaps to some, it was nothing more than a virtual realm, its turbulent storms easily forgotten once the screen went dark.

But for another sort, its meaning ran vastly deeper.

Call them naive, brand them reckless, or perhaps, they had truly poured their genuine devotion into it, shaping it into a quiet honor nestled deep within their hearts.

Into the butchered ruins of the tribal camp, they charged once more.

"Why aren't these guys running?"

"Are they completely brainless?"

"Holy crap, I just one-shot this orc!"

"Their gear must be utterly broken..."

"Probably have no gold left for repairs... they shouldn't be coming back, right?" murmured a few Alliance players to themselves.

Time after time they fell, and time after time they surged forward again, as though driven to offer their own meager strength even while knowing it was as futile as an insect trying to stop a chariot.

"Why can't our Horde win this—!" an orc wailed in grief.

"Again... charge just a few more times!"

It was as if they were truly bound by the oath they took upon joining their ranks—heaven lies to the left, but the warrior turns right—and these orc warriors seemed infused with a sudden, fearless strength from deep within.

Charge!

And down they went once more.

Within the World of Warcraft, there were no endless wars of absolute extermination, and those damned enemies of the opposing faction, at times, perhaps possessed something worthy of respect.

No matter how naive, no matter how reckless.

An Alliance warrior stepped forward and offered a low bow; only a fellow warrior could truly understand the depth of such a sentiment.

Like a vanguard storming the lines, bound for death with no thought of survival.

"Let's go, let's go." A great number of Alliance began channeling their Hearthstones.

.

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Postscript: Faction honor—to be honest, plenty of old veterans only look out for themselves now and don't care for that sort of thing anymore, but sometimes seeing those green newbies still fiercely holding the line for their faction looks a bit chuunibyou, yet I remember how I was exactly the same way back in the day.

As for updates... tomorrow we return to three chapters a day.

By the way, helping a friend plug a book, "I Am the Emperor of All Heavens," students who are interested in fantasy can check it out.

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