Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Eight: The Scourge People and the Scourge Legion
The ancient war songs of Lordaeron echoed in the sky above Andorhal, and the hoarse chorus of the undead carried an indescribable desolation and tragedy.
Without command or tactics, countless undead rushed up like a tide.
Whether it was Uther's Silver Hand, Thrall's orc army, or the elven rangers who joined later, they had never suffered any damage when they slaughtered the people of Lordaeron, that is, the undead.
The holy light of the Holy Knights suppresses the undead, the terrifying and heavy battle axes of the Orcs, and the rain of arrows from the Elf Rangers can easily take away the undead.
The undead are too weak, not much stronger than a newborn baby, and are as simple as mowing grass.
Past experiences made them despise the enemies in front of them, even if there were so many undead that they couldn't even see them at a glance.
Uther walked towards his team unhurriedly. Although he had not slept all night and was exhausted, the paladins did not care about this group of undead and wanted to kill them as before.
Now that the undead are gathered together, they save themselves the trouble of hiding and seeking.
The Paladins of the Silver Hand mounted their tall war horses and formed a neat charging formation. Their young faces were all relaxed and they had no doubt about the coming victory.
The orcs stood in a relatively loose formation, with everyone keeping a certain distance, so as to ensure that they would not accidentally injure their teammates after falling into a rage.
They were still joking carelessly about the coming undead and didn't take it to heart at all.
The elves of Sylvanas gathered together to play the game. The high elves had always been stingy with their arrows, and it was not worth using them on the weak undead. They took out the elven scimitars they carried with them and planned to have a close-up chopping game.
"Brave paladins, charge towards the enemy and kill them all!"
Uther raised the gleaming war hammer in his hand, and the paladins lined up in neat battle lines, charging toward the people of Lordaeron bravely and fearlessly.
When the first paladin was pinned to the ground by the undead, including his horse and man, Uther's expression changed.
Only then did Uther realize that he was wrong.
This group of undead is different from the previous undead in terms of running speed and strength and endurance.
As if overnight, the undead suddenly became stronger.
The undead roared loudly, and the screams of the Paladin quickly stopped. A brief chant came, and the Paladin with only the skeleton standing up from the ground, slashed at his comrades with the weapon in his hand.
"What kind of evil magic is this?" Uther was shocked.
Compared to the Paladins who maintained their battle formation, the orcs were even more miserable.
The orcs who were too scattered quickly fell into the sea of undead and entered a violent state. Although they harvested a large group of undead, once they were tired and weak, they were quickly dismembered by the surrounding undead.
The orcs were not qualified to stand up again, and their souls were torn apart by countless dead souls.
The elven rangers paid the price for their arrogance.
The rangers, who are known for their agility in action, lost their usefulness in the dense crowd of undead. Their formation was quickly divided, surrounded and annihilated.
Under the holy light of the paladin, the battle ax of the orc, and the scimitar of the elf ranger, the undead fell one by one, and more undead rushed up.
Don't be afraid of death, don't be afraid of sacrifice, life is just a brilliant fire.
"Uther, you must pay for your crimes."
Only the head of an undead was left, still biting Uther's armor.
"You are evil creatures, we, the Silver Hand, are the righteous ones."
Uther's face was covered with dust, and he roared loudly: "You are just filthy scum, a weak race that has been eliminated. Brave Paladins, kill them all, the Holy Light is with us."
Uther inspired the heroic aura on the armor, and the golden armor glowed with golden light, like a beacon in the darkness, guiding the Paladins in the direction they were going.
"My children, the Holy Light will remember your merits, and history will definitely remember your bravery and sacrifice. In the process of defeating powerful evil, sacrifice is inevitable."
Uther retreated quietly. When fighting the orcs, whenever the battle situation was unfavorable, Uther would wisely make similar choices. He was looking for Jaina. Now only Jaina could save them from the encirclement.
In the center of the battlefield, a quiet area gained by countless lives, Jaina is preparing a teleportation spell.
"Gianna, do you want to escape alone?"
Thrall's rumbling voice sounded, and when he saw that the battle situation was not good, he quickly spilled a large amount of violent potion, combined with his own heroic totem, enough to delay the orc warriors who fell into madness again for a while.
"You retreated so quickly, Thrall."
Sylvanas, who was standing beside her, laughed at Thrall, her Elf Ranger was about to be unable to withstand it.
"Each other, each other."
Thrall looked gloomy and turned around to see Uther and Saurfang, standing next to Jaina on the left and right.
"This is a righteous retreat. Today's retreat is just for the future comeback, for the day when light and victory come." Uther said loudly and righteously.
Saurfang shook his battle ax and mocked:
"I heard you tell similar jokes countless times when you were fighting us orcs."
"Stop arguing, be quiet, I need to think." Jaina was carefully preparing the magic: "I hope the power given to me by the Guardian will not go wrong, group teleportation."
Rays of light flashed, and several heroes present disappeared.
While the brave soldiers were still fighting bloody battles, their commanders had already retreated to a safe area.
"This is an unforgivable war crime, this is naked murder."
To the east of Andorhal, near Icewind Ridge, outside the camp of the three-party coalition, Thrall jumped up and yelled:
"Six hundred brave orc warriors died in Andorhal. Evil people of Lordaeron, I will tear you to pieces with my own hands."
"The Silver Hand lost more than a thousand paladins." Uther said gloomily with a dark face.
"Every Elf Ranger is a great warrior, and they should not die in vain." Sylvanas bit her lip, anger burning in her eyes.
"I want to mobilize the orc army, and I want to destroy these damn undead." Thrall roared loudly.
"Have you ever thought about why these undead have become stronger?" Uther asked: "Before, we killed them as easily as tearing up rag dolls. Now, they are almost like living people."
Jaina drank a bottle of magic potion, and her pale face caused by excessive spellcasting improved a lot.
"We have arranged spies in the Cult of the Damned. Although they have established a laboratory, their research on the undead is progressing slowly. There must be some unknown mysterious power helping them."
"The evil people of Lordaeron dare to slaughter our noble orcs. Just wait, they are destined to become the common enemy of the entire Azeroth." Thrall said with a cruel smile.
Uther shook his head: "Although the undead have become stronger, their combat effectiveness is still limited. As long as we mobilize the army, it will be easy to destroy them. What I am worried about is Stratholme. If it continues to delay..."
"Stratholme must be destroyed." Sylvanas has coveted Stratholme for a long time.
"For the upcoming war, we orcs need to replenish our military rations." Thrall looked in the direction of Hearthglen with evil eyes and said cruelly:
"If old Fording refuses to contribute his wife and son, hehe..."
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"This is not enough."
Arthas knelt on the ground and witnessed the battle in Andorhal with his own eyes. Although the undead had achieved a gratifying victory, they also paid heavy sacrifices and only eliminated a handful of enemies.
"They are just ordinary people, Prince Alsace," Robbie said, "You need to build them into a real legion."