The generals were galvanized, filing out in a rush to prepare for battle. Outside the tent, the war horns let out a long, piercing blast.
A new banner rose above the ruins of Dalaran—the Royal Flag of Lordaeron flying alongside the war standards of each race. The Holy Fire Phoenix let out a heaven-shaking cry, and the two Holy Archangels unfurled their massive wings.
A divine golden light illuminated the entire camp. The "Morale +1" effect began to take root, further boosting the spirits of the humans. Every soldier felt a surge of strength coursing through their limbs; they felt their attack and defense rising. It was no illusion—Rhodes's own attributes were now being channeled into his legion.
Rhodes stood upon a high platform, overlooking the ranks. "Warriors of the Alliance! The enemy is before us. Prepare for battle!"
"To battle! To battle!" the soldiers roared back.
"Shield! Stone Skin! Bloodlust! Bless!" Standing on high, Rhodes raised his hand and unleashed four support spells from Heroes of Might and Magic, enveloping the entire army.
Green shields materialized above every soldier's head, and a massive jade web shimmered over the ranks, drastically hardening their defenses. Simultaneously, a sudden gale swirled around the warriors, making them feel light on their feet and incredibly agile.
Finally, a giant golden chalice appeared in the sky, tilting to pour a liquid gold light over the troops. This maximized their damage output—a standard swing now carried the weight and impact of a desperate, full-strength blow.
"This is incredible! I feel... powerful!"
"It's not just a feeling! We're faster, tougher, and hitting harder!" an old veteran shouted, gripping his longsword. He felt he could easily take down three of his former selves, perhaps more.
"Is victory already certain?" whispered soldiers from every race.
After buffing his allies, Rhodes turned his attention to the approaching Scourge. He unleashed a barrage of debuffs: Slow, Misfortune, and Curse. Since Blind does not work on the undead, he skipped it.
A black mire suddenly appeared beneath the feet of the charging undead, causing them to slip and stumble. Then came the Curse, a crimson glow that sapped their strength. Finally, black symbols of ill-fortune appeared above their heads—the Misfortune effect—crushing any chance of a lucky strike from the rotting horde.
Rhodes nodded, satisfied. With his army bolstered and the enemy crippled, all that remained was the magical bombardment. If they didn't win this, it would be a miracle of the wrong kind.
The Alliance army deployed exactly as Rhodes had planned. Dwarven riflemen set up on the high ground, Blood Elf magi and Jaina's human sorcerers took the flanks, and Paladins and infantry formed a solid wall in the center. Rhodes's elemental legion was positioned at key points, vibrating with terrifying energy.
The Scourge came like a tide, the stench of decay preceding them. Gargoyles circled above, shrieking.
"Magi, prepare!" Kael'thas raised his staff, the power of the Sunwell (even without the well itself) swirling around him.
"Riflemen, aim for the Abominations!" the Dwarven commander roared.
Rhodes stood at the front, brilliant electricity gathering in his hand. "For Lordaeron!" His voice thundered across the battlefield. "Attack!"
Massive, terrifying bolts of lightning tore through the Scourge ranks. Several Death Knights leading the charge were instantly charred into cinders by Rhodes's Lightning Bolt. The surrounding undead were pulverized into dust. Rhodes didn't stop—spamming Lightning Bolt at this moment was pure catharsis.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The lightning strikes caused catastrophic damage. Simultaneously, the elemental army unleashed its fury. Thunder Elementals called down bolts to shatter skeletons; Fire Elementals breathed gouts of flame that turned zombies to ash; Ice Elementals froze the ground to halt the advance; and Earth Elementals swung massive fists that shook the very foundation of the earth.
Blood Elf magi and the Kirin Tor sorcerers joined in, raining down Fireballs, Arcane Missiles, Flame Strikes, and Blizzards. The Alliance soldiers' morale reached its peak—this war was starting to look easy!
Despite the bombardment, the sheer mass of the Scourge finally slammed into the defensive line. Rotten flesh met polished steel with a sickening crunch. Paladins shouted the name of the Light, their war hammers erupting with holy energy to shatter anything that crawled near.
"Hold the line! For the Alliance!" a human commander yelled, his sword cleaving through a skeletal warrior.
In the sky, a swarm of Gargoyles dived for the magi. But two golden streaks shot upward—the Holy Archangels. Their sacred blades drew blinding arcs through the air, bisecting a dozen Gargoyles in seconds. Rhodes's dozen Fire Phoenixes followed, breathing torrents of flame. The Scourge had no hope for air superiority—they would have to get through the Archangels and Phoenixes first.
"The Phoenixes are here!" the soldiers cheered.
Capurnia dived the Holy Fire Phoenix across the battlefield. Searing flames fell from its wings like a rain of fire, making the undead scream as they dissolved into ash. Rhodes, watching from his vantage point, saw a group of Abominations breaking through the left flank.
"Fireball!"
Three massive spheres of flame whistled through the air, hitting the bloated monsters with pinpoint accuracy. The explosions tore their corpulent bodies apart, spraying green ichor and rot everywhere. Jaina, not to be outdone, raised her staff and hummed a complex incantation. The temperature in the center of the Scourge army plummeted, and countless ice shards fell from the sky—her signature Blizzard.
The battle was intense but entirely one-sided. Rhodes's buffs made the soldiers superhuman, while his debuffs left the undead sluggish and weak.
"By the Light!" a soldier gasped.
The Holy Fire Phoenix let out a clear, high-pitched cry, diving toward the rear of the Scourge army like a miniature sun. Its target: the Liches and Death Knights. Where the Phoenix passed, the undead melted like snow.
Its light acted as a natural predator; low-level undead turned to dust before it even touched them. Its sheer size—a wingspan of 40 meters—made it even more imposing than the Archangels.
Two Death Knights spurred their skeletal chargers to intercept, but with a single flap of its wings, a Holy Flame Storm swallowed them whole.
"Impossible! What is this creature?" a Lich shrieked, backing away while trying to weave a defensive spell.
Rhodes saw the opening and raised his sword high. "All units, charge! For the glory of Lordaeron! Annihilate the Scourge!"
The Alliance army surged forward with a heaven-shaking roar. Paladins led the way, Light gleaming on their blades. Dwarven riflemen fired as they advanced, never missing. Sorcerers continued to pour magic into the thinning ranks of the dead.
The most miraculous part? Not a single Alliance soldier had died yet. The combination of Shield and Stone Skin was simply too broken; common zombies and ghouls couldn't even scratch the humans' armor.
"Kill! Kill them all!"
"Revenge is here, brothers! Now!"
"Victory is ours!"
The balance had completely tipped. Rhodes realized he didn't even need his hidden trump cards. He stood in the most visible spot, picking off enemy Hero units—Death Knights and Liches—with his most mana-efficient spell: Magic Arrow.