The desperate struggle of the orcs brought an almost devastating blow to the Burning Plains.
The King of Magic is arrogant and will not tell mortals what it does, nor are mortals qualified to question it. However, at this juncture, nearly a quarter of the Blackstone Tower, which was originally easy to defend and difficult to attack, was destroyed by a raid.
For the soldiers of the Alliance of Orc tribes, they are not stingy with the joy from heaven.
The Alliance's vanguard is currently staying in the Redridge Mountains with a large army. These troops are the vanguard that Daelin's fleet transported directly from Khaz Modan to the Western Wilds. They will enter the Burning Plains from the west, and in the Burning Plains
On the other side, the Searing Gorge battlefield, which was tightly defended by the orcs and connected to Khaz Modan, was in charge of the Ironforge dwarves who had just joined the Alliance and the Stromgarde Legion who had arrived by land.
The coalition forces have made a final attack plan, attacking Blackrock Tower from the north and west at the same time. The first goal is to trap the orcs in the Burning Plains, and then use a siege to annihilate the last remaining living force of the orcs!
However, at this point, Malygos's attack completely disrupted everything.
Although it was unclear what the orcs had done to provoke the attack of the mysterious blue dragon, Khadgar, the leader of the accompanying mage, told Lothar with certainty that the way forward was clear.
Khadgar wore a set of heavy blue robes, gloves, and carried a staff of the Guardian. In front of him were the solemn-looking coalition Marshal Lothar and General Dailin, who were the supreme commanders of the vanguard.
"Listen to me, Marshal Lothar, Admiral Dai Lin, your worries are normal!"
Still very young, but already with a head of white hair and an old face, the mage said softly:
"Mortals are always afraid of giant dragons. Even mages are reluctant to deal with these dangerous creatures, but I can guarantee that the appearance of the phantom of the King of Magic here has nothing to do with the alliance's attack. It must be a bastard of the tribe.
They did things to annoy it, such as enslaving the red dragon, and I have repeatedly checked that the blue dragon king’s magic wave has disappeared and it has left.”
Although this answer was decisive, it did not reassure the commander, especially since the red dragon played a very disgraceful decision in the tribe's invasion. Dai Lin hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice and said:
"So, Master Khadgar, you mean that the appearance of that terrifyingly powerful dragon has nothing to do with the Alliance, and it's not here to help us? Judging from your knowledge, it will appear again.
? Most importantly, will it interfere with our war?"
Faced with this rather layman's question, Khadgar shrugged and said with a relaxed expression:
"The concentration of magic power in the Burning Plains is extremely high at this time, which means that the magic power of the mages will also be amplified. The most important thing is that fighting in high magic areas will not affect the bodies of the soldiers, and believe me, even with Dara
However, judging from my limited understanding of the Dragon Kings, these arrogant creatures disdain to join the mortal battlefield... Although it is a bit hard to accept, in fact, in their eyes, there is actually no difference between us and the orcs."
"Justice and evil are defined by ourselves, and the dragon won't care about them."
This rather rude answer made Dai Lin breathe a sigh of relief, because the Alliance Navy had suffered heavy losses due to the red dragon's "helping the evil" several times. The admiral had no good impression of the dragon at all. After repeated confirmation
Afterwards, King Dailin twirled his beard and said to Marshal Lothar who was meditating next to him:
"If this is the case, what is before us is indeed a rare and good opportunity. Marshal Lothar, the news sent back by the Stormwind Kingdom's MI7 has been confirmed. The Blackstone Tower has indeed been partially destroyed. I think we should take advantage of it.
This opportunity..."
Dai Lin's voice interrupted Marshal Lothar's thinking. The latter suddenly raised his head. He rubbed his chin and said to the two people in front of him:
"I'm thinking about whether the appearance of the Blue Dragon King can be a means of boosting our morale. You also know that because of the orcs' control of the red dragon, many soldiers have unnecessary fear."
"But the blue dragons are not from our side. In fact, they have the weirdest personalities among all the dragons..."
Khadgar was a little unable to understand. He used his professional knowledge as a mage to explain: "Blue dragons will never appear in confrontations between civilized camps. They have always refused to deal with mortal creatures."
"Yes, everything you said is right, Master Khadgar."
Marshal Lothar stood up and patted his armor:
"But the soldiers don't know this... Even if it's just a rumor, as long as it can dispel the soldiers' fear of your red dragons controlled by the orcs, that's enough!"
Soon, the Alliance's vanguard army appeared on the battlefield of the devastated Burning Plains. When the first group of knights rushed under the Blackstone Tower under the banner of the Kingdom of Stormwind, this nightmare-like news was quickly sent to Ogg.
Rem's hand.
In just half a month since the retreat, the high-spirited chief seems to have aged by more than ten years. In recent days, he has received a steady stream of bad news.
The Black-Toothed Grinning Clan was ambushed by the Alliance Navy, and less than 500 of them escaped.
After the Dragonmaw Orcs were left and severed, the promised support from the young dragons was nowhere to be seen, and Nekros the Skullcrusher had become a warlord of one faction.
The Blood Demon was confident about opening up the situation for the Horde. However, 2 hours ago, a quarter of the last fortress, Black Rock Tower, was cut off by a destructive beam of light because of that bastard.
The Bleeding Circle clan who stayed behind wanted to rescue, but were trapped in Stranglethorn Vale by the ungrateful goblins.
He still has tens of thousands of orcs in his hands, but that weird fatigue disease is raging among the orcs like a plague.
All of this made Orgrim feel that he was at the end of his rope, and his fate was really unpredictable. In less than a month, the tribe had gone from having the upper hand to being trapped in a lonely land.
He looked at the battle report in his hand. Although there were only a few thousand knights arriving at the Burning Plains so far, Orgrim was certain that tens of thousands of human soldiers would set foot on this tribe's last land without waiting until tomorrow morning.
His fingers tightened, and the battle report written in animal skin was crushed into a ball in his hand.
In the warchief's hall, Orgrim stood up, with his back to the animal skin map behind him. In the beating flames of the braziers around the room, a dark shadow shone on the warchief's cheek, leaving the great chief with his back.
The sadness of the chief's hero's end was rendered so miserable.
His great ambitions, all his plans for the future, and his expectations for rebuilding the orc civilization have been completely shattered.
But even so, he was not willing to admit defeat just like that. The tribe still had no hope of victory.
"Saurfang!"
Orgrim shouted in a low voice. A moment later, the orc warlord Safarul strode into the chief's hall. His steps were a little shaky, and the bloodshot layer at the bottom of his eyes had also weakened a lot, which meant that,
A powerful warrior like Saurfang was also affected by the "plague" of exhaustion.
"Great Chief! I'm here!"
But this fatigue was overcome by his spirit. Just from the appearance, Saurfang was still the invincible orc warlord.
"I need you to go to the Dark Portal, Saurfang. This is a dangerous mission. The last messenger was killed by the Shattered Hand assassin before he could reach Hellfire Citadel. In the current situation, I can't send you too much."
Many people.”
Orgrim sat back on his chair, picked up a pen, and wrote quickly on the animal skin scroll. He said without raising his head:
"I need you to contact Grom, Kargath, and Fenris, and ask them to come to Azeroth with their Warsong, Shattered Hand, and Thunder King Clan for support! I want them to pass through the Dark Portal as quickly as possible.
Attack the Alliance vanguard from behind and open up the situation for the Horde!"
He raised his head, with a cold light shining in his narrowed eyes, and he said in a deep voice:
"No matter what those arrogant chiefs want! They can only protect the last territory of the tribe and ensure our last hope in this world. I will give them as much as they want!"
"But the chief!"
Saurfang was not a fool. He immediately realized Orgrim’s intention. He put his hands on the table and said in a deep voice:
"From the Burning Plains to the Dark Portal, plus convincing the chiefs, it will take at least 15 days. The alliance is now flanked by two fronts. Can we survive until that time?"
"This is something I need to consider, Saurfang."
Orgrim finished writing the letter, rolled the animal skin into a scroll, and threw it to the warlord. He breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, and moved his shoulders:
"Lotha bribed those Ravenholdt assassins and tried to assassinate me many times. He knew very well that as long as I died, the tribe would instantly fall into chaos, but how could it be accomplished by relying on those assassins!"
The warchief walked to the window of the hall. He looked out the window at the scorched and dim sky of the Burning Plains. He seemed to have returned to the iron-blooded battlefield. He took a deep breath and said softly:
"Soon we will face the final battle. I will show Lothar on the battlefield what a real beheading tactic is."
"I will chop off his head on the battlefield and defeat their marshal in front of his soldiers. Lothar's death will become our hope to persist. Only this kind of deterrence can stop the cunning Alliance dogs.
You know, even if a tiger falls into the water, it is still a tiger... If they want to kill a tiger, they are not qualified!"
This attitude of risking everything made Saurfang a little worried. He clenched the scroll in his hand and whispered:
"Maybe we can stick to it and join forces with the Dark Iron dwarves at the lower level of Blackrock Tower. Just like Ironforge, Blackstone Tower will also become a nightmare for Alliance soldiers. The cunning Alliance dogs have suffered enough, and they will naturally...
"
"cowardly!"
Saurfang's suggestion made Orgrim furious. He turned around, grabbed Saurfang's collar with both hands, and lifted the orc warlord from the ground. He looked at Saurfang fiercely.
Farr roared loudly:
"You're afraid! Saurfang! You're afraid of the Alliance!"
"I'm not! I'm not afraid of them!"
Saurfang responded fearlessly:
"I just feel that if we hold on, our warriors will leave some fire behind. Don't forget, Warchief, that weird fatigue is swallowing us up like a disease. Every warrior is extremely precious to us!
"
Saurfang's words left Orgrim speechless. The sudden fatigue disease was like a punishment from fate to the orcs, making the originally bloodthirsty and aggressive orc warriors weak. What's even more terrifying is that this
This kind of weakness does not affect the body, but directly affects the soul and will.
If a warrior's will is broken, is he still worthy of being called a warrior?
The warchief's anger was drained away in an instant, and he sat back on the chair with a tired expression. Saurfang made a big mistake, but he was still his most trusted warlord. He whispered:
"Do you really think we have a third way to go? Saurfang? No more!"
"Either lead the tribe to take root in this world and survive, or flee back to the Dark Portal to die like a defeated dog! How many humans have we killed? How many orcs have the humans killed? At this point in the war, even if we
Even if we want to withdraw, the Alliance will not allow us to safely withdraw to the Dark Portal..."
"The seeds of hatred have been planted. Watered by blood, they have long taken root and sprouted. Like deadly poisonous weeds, they have forced both sides to fight to the death. Saurfang, there is no way out! If we are destined to die here,
World, are you willing to suffer from hunger and disease, be abused like a wild dog, and breathe your last breath unwillingly?"
"No one wants to! No one will do that!"
The Great Chief's fingers on the table suddenly clenched, and his voice changed from low and tired to firm again, like a rock that would never be broken by the tide.
"The era of conquest and invasion is over, Saurfang, now, next, including the days to come...orcs, we! We are going to fight for survival!"
