Iron River Valley is a crucial strategic location on the central front in the confrontation between the Restoration Alliance and the Empire.

It is a long, narrow canyon stretching for hundreds of kilometers, with a river flowing at its bottom that is rust-red due to its rich iron content.

This is the last natural barrier leading to the core area of ​​the empire—the "Capital of Heaven" plain. Once the Iron River Valley is breached, the alliance's army can advance unimpeded, heading straight for the "Heavenly Throne" that Lin Feng is located on, suspended in the sky.

Therefore, both sides have amassed a large number of troops here.

On the Alliance side, the main force consisted of Barton's "Anvil" Legion, known for its bravery and skill in battle, while also being supported by Kael'thas's "Silvermoon Mage Order" for ranged firepower, and the "Golden Gryphon" Knights, the most elite troops under Duke Armand, as a mobile reserve.

This mixed force, which brought together the strongest combat power from the three major factions of the alliance, had a total strength of over 50,000 men and was the largest strategic offensive launched by the alliance since its establishment.

Everyone believed this would be a decisive victory. Under the cover of the dwarves' impenetrable shield wall and the elves' devastating magical bombardment, they would utterly tear apart the Empire's seemingly impregnable defenses.

However, the course of the war took a completely unexpected turn.

The moment the Alliance's charge horn sounded, what greeted them was not the Imperial army's conventional barrage of particle rifles and energy cannons, but a mist they had never seen before, radiating an eerie, ghostly green light...

The mist surged in from behind the Imperial positions like a tidal wave, corroding and decomposing everything in its path, from hard rock to steel fortifications, at a visible speed, turning into puddles of bubbling, nauseating green pus.

"It's necromancy! No! It's even more evil than necromancy!" Prince Kael'thas immediately recognized the energy filled with the aura of death and decay, and for the first time, a look of horror appeared on his face.

"All troops! Activate energy shields! Mage squads, use 'Purifying Light' to dispel it!" he shouted shrilly.

However, it was all too late.

The green mist spread faster than anyone could have imagined, and the thousands of dwarven heavy infantrymen at the forefront were almost instantly swallowed up by the terrifying mist.

A shrill, inhuman scream emanated from the mist. The dwarves' heavy alloy armor, strong enough to withstand heavy artillery fire, was as fragile as paper before the mist, corroded and riddled with holes in just a few seconds; and their flesh and blood could not even last a second before turning into chilling white skeletons still emitting green smoke.

What's even more terrifying is yet to come.

The skeletons of the recently deceased dwarven warriors, corroded by the green mist, actually rose again, swaying precariously. Two pale green flames of soul burned in their empty eye sockets. They picked up the equally corroded and mottled weapons from the ground, turned around, and launched a merciless attack on their former comrades.

“My God…” Patton stood on the command vehicle, looking at the hellish scene before him. For the first time, fear appeared on his usually fearless face.

"Retreat! Retreat now!" he roared into the communicator in a hoarse voice.

However, in such a chaotic battlefield, retreat is easier said than done.

The collapse of the vanguard instantly triggered chaos in the central army, while the plague-like green mist continued to spread forward.

Meanwhile, the imperial army launched its full-scale offensive.

They were not traditional Imperial soldiers, but terrifying monsters over three meters tall, their entire bodies encased in black armor with a twisted, bio-like texture. They did not use any ranged weapons, but instead wielded enormous, scythe-like bone blades that grew directly from their arms.

They were as fast as lightning, and their strength was enough to flip a heavy tank over with a single blow.

They are Lin Feng's private guard – the "Cataclysmic Warriors," biological weapons he created by fusing the genes of countless of the most terrifying fighting races in the universe, existing solely for slaughter and destruction.

They had never appeared on this planet before. Because in Lin Feng's view, all the previous battles were nothing more than insignificant "pacification wars."

And now, he has finally unleashed these true "slaughtering knives".

The battle unfolded as a one-sided, devastating defeat.

The Alliance army was utterly helpless against the eerie "Withering Mist" and the terrifying "Cataclysmic Warriors," and their lines were easily torn apart and shattered.

Kael'thas unleashed one powerful area-of-effect spell after another with all his might, yet the remains of the Scourge weapons torn to shreds by his Arcane Storm would wriggle and coalesce again within seconds, returning to their original state as if they were immortal.

Duke Armand's "Golden Griffin" Knights, upon realizing the dire situation, chose to flee without hesitation. They even deliberately disrupted the formation of Lina's "Shadow Scouts" Legion, who were struggling to organize their rearguard, in order to buy themselves time to escape.

"Cowards! Traitors!" Lina watched helplessly as her most elite scouts were slaughtered like vegetables by the "Cataclysmic Soldiers" who took advantage of the situation. For the first time, tears of anger and sorrow streamed down her amber eyes.

The Battle of Iron River Valley, which the Alliance had high hopes for, ended in an unprecedented and disastrous defeat.

Of the 50,000 troops in the alliance, fewer than 10,000 were ultimately able to successfully withdraw to the rear defense lines.

Patton's "Anvil" Legion was almost completely wiped out. He himself was also attacked by three "Cataclysmic Soldiers" while covering the retreat of the last batch of troops. He was seriously wounded and lost an arm. He was only dragged back from the battlefield by his personal guards who risked their lives to rescue him.

Kael'thas's Silvermoon Mage Order also suffered heavy losses, with less than one-tenth remaining, and he himself fell into a coma due to overexertion of his magic power.

This crushing defeat was like a magnitude 12 earthquake, severely shaking the very foundation of the entire Revival Alliance.

The joy of victory was completely replaced by a chilling fear, and optimism vanished without a trace, replaced by endless arguments filled with suspicion and accusations.

"It's all those self-righteous elves' fault! If they hadn't insisted on using some fancy 'magic suppression,' and instead listened to me from the beginning and used our dwarven 'earthquake' heavy artillery to saturate the enemy positions, we wouldn't have lost at all!" At the first emergency council meeting after the war, Barton, with his arm wrapped in bandages, slammed his remaining fist on the table and roared.

“Foolish dwarf! What do you know?!” Another elven elder, who had miraculously survived, retorted, his face pale. “That evil energy that can even corrode space itself, do you think your meager physical cannonballs can handle it? Blame those cowardly humans! If it weren’t for that coward Armand and his knights deserting in the face of battle, disrupting our flanks, we wouldn’t have suffered such a crushing defeat!”

"Bullshit!" A former nobleman representing Duke Armand at the meeting slammed his fist on the table and stood up immediately. "The defeat was catastrophic! Under such circumstances, a strategic retreat to preserve our strength was the wisest choice! Are you suggesting that our noble knights go to their deaths with a bunch of brainless idiots like you?"

"you……"

Arguments, insults, accusations...

What was once a respectable parliament has now become a place even more unsightly than the most chaotic vegetable market.

Irelia sat quietly at the head of the table, her face expressionless. But those who knew her well could see the volcanic rage and...sorrow simmering within her from her hands, which gripped the sword hilt so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

She remembered the dwarven warriors who melted into bones in the green mist, the scouts who were torn to pieces by bone blades while covering their comrades, and countless once vibrant faces full of hope for the future.

And now, their bodies are barely cold, yet these so-called "leaders" are putting on such an ugly show of shifting blame to each other.

"Enough!"

She finally spoke.

Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling quality that could freeze one's soul.

The noisy conference room fell silent instantly.

All eyes were focused on the girl who had always been like a gentle and inspiring "saint."

For the first time, they saw something in her eyes they had never seen before—a cruel, cold… murderous intent.

“The reason we lost was not because the enemy was too strong.” Irelia’s gaze, sharp as the sharpest knife, slowly swept over everyone present. “It was because we were too arrogant, too selfish, and too… foolish.”

"While our soldiers are bleeding and sacrificing their lives on the front lines, you are fighting for power and profit in the rear."

"When we need to unite and work together, you all have your own agendas and only think about preserving your own strength."

“Barton, you are wrong.” She first looked at the one-armed dwarf who looked bewildered. “Your arrogance made you underestimate the enemy, and you unknowingly threw our most elite warriors into a death trap.”

Barton's face drained of color instantly. He opened his mouth to retort, but looking at Irelia's cold eyes, he couldn't utter a single word.

“Kael'thas, you are also at fault.” Her gaze then turned to the elven elder whose face was equally grim. “Your arrogance has made you disdainful of genuine and effective communication and cooperation with us 'mortal' races. Your magic is powerful, but magic detached from the military system is nothing more than a magnificent firework.”

“And you,” her gaze finally settled on the trembling Duke Armand’s representative, “go back and tell your master, Armand Bellamy. He and his so-called ‘Golden Griffin’ Knights are a disgrace to the Alliance. From this day forward, I, Irelia, in the name of the Supreme Leader of the Restoration Alliance, declare—Armand Bellamy stripped of all his seats and powers in the Supreme Council, the ‘Golden Griffin’ Knights disbanded, and their ranks scattered, to be incorporated into various ‘punishment’ units that are redeeming themselves. Those who disobey will be punished for ‘treason’!”

Upon hearing this, the entire room fell silent.

Everyone was deeply shocked by Irelia's unprecedented, ruthless, and domineering demeanor.

The nobleman representative was so frightened that he collapsed to the ground.

“You…you can’t do this!” he stammered. “His Excellency the Duke…he has provided so much for the Alliance…”

“Money?” Irelia interrupted him coldly. “Our will to resist and the blood of our fallen warriors cannot be bought with money.”

She stood up, and the sword "Dawn" in her hand emitted a clear and melodious sword cry.

A holy power, more powerful and refined than ever before, erupted from her body. The golden light even carried a hint of a majestic crimson that was too intimidating to look at directly—the color of anger, and also the color of determination.

"From today onwards, the Alliance enters its highest wartime state. All military command is now under my direct control, all logistical supplies will be distributed by Lina, and anyone who dares to disobey orders or spread defeatist rhetoric will be executed without mercy!"

"I've finished speaking."

Who's in favor? Who's opposed?

Her gaze swept across the entire room, and it was no longer the gaze of an innocent young girl, but the gaze of a commander who had truly been reborn from the baptism of blood and fire, and who held the power of life and death in his hands.

No one dared to meet her gaze.

Under that terrifying aura that blended sacred majesty with ruthless strife, all the past intrigues and factional struggles seemed so laughable and insignificant.

"I...agree."

One-armed Patton was the first to stand up. He pounded his chest with his remaining left hand and spoke in an unprecedentedly serious and awe-inspiring tone.

"The Elven race... has no objection." The Elven elder also bowed his noble head deeply.

The crushing defeat at Iron River Valley was like the heaviest hammer, shattering the Alliance's false prosperity, but it also awakened Irelia's heart, which had once been lost in confusion due to victory and power struggles.

She finally understood that to defeat that god-like emperor, the key was not numbers, nor compromise or checks and balances, but absolute will, iron discipline, and a pure...determination to concentrate all power unreservedly on a single point. (This is the plot layout.)