The rotten swamp had become a place of death in the truest sense of the word.
Perhaps it was because the Naga Plane belonged to the Dungeon Race and leaned towards the Evil Faction. These planes were not planes of good races.
The five planes collided. They smashed and slayed each other. The scene was bloody and crazy.
A myriad of lives departed for each second.
No one would want to stop. That was interesting.
Enemies would invade whoever plane couldn't withstand.
It was a disaster that would wipe out the entire race. Who would bear this price?
Only a sole victor remained in this death arena.
The half-murlocs were unwilling to join the battle. But they couldn't escape the war.
They wouldn't want to mess. But how would they stop the planes from targeting them?
No one could guarantee it.
And how many benefits would one obtain from conquering a plane?
