Chapter 564: The Last Chance

Unlike the World War that Duke experienced before his transition, it was an era dominated by firearms.

In this age, where cold weapons prevail, Duke made several enhancements to the Number Four battle tank. For example, spikes and ramming horns were added to the front, and a steel, icebreaker-like pointed triangle was affixed near the base.

On either side of the tank, Duke originally intended to fashion it after a traditional tank, with metal plating close to the ground to protect the wheels and tracks. However, the gnome master craftsman Gelbin suggested, "Why not equip it with razors, like Mara's chariot?"

As a result, over a dozen elongated steel spikes were added, extending from the wheel's bearings. When the chariot moved at high speeds, anyone approaching its sides would surely be severed in half by the rapidly spinning spikes.

The rear of the battle tank, where the dwarves board, has relatively less protection. Still, it's only relative. Over ten small holes are present on the rear deck, and even if not familiar with them, the dwarves could fire from these openings or thrust spears to teach outsiders a lesson.

These versatile tanks, equipped for both offense and rapid movement, easily shattered the orc formations. The only threat to the Number Four battle tank, the ogres, were methodically targeted and eliminated by Duke's Windrunner Ranger Squad.

Following closely behind the Number Four battle tank were simpler open-topped armored vehicles.

These hastily constructed armored cars didn't possess the formidable assault capabilities of the Number Four tank and lacked mounted mortars. Serving as a complement to the Number Four, these vehicles accommodated twelve dwarf riflemen and twelve grenadiers.

What they hurled were the iron-clad hand grenades that Duke had once extensively used during the defense of Stormwind.

Though crude in design, these grenades were quite effective against the lightly armored orc peons, but not as much against the orc warriors.

Even with the Dark Iron dwarves fully supporting the Horde, it was impossible to equip all 250,000 orcs with full iron armor. Only a minority had such protection. The laborers, or peons, were merely equipped with fairly sharp iron weapons. These beings, who didn't even possess shoes and were akin to slaves, how could they defend against the shrapnel from these grenades?

Three hundred battle tanks, coupled with five hundred armored vehicles, charged from the right flank, plowing through the entire orc left wing like a farmer's plow through the soil. Following closely were forty thousand dwarf assault troops.

Finally, the left wing of the orcs, unable to withstand this unknown and terrifying onslaught, crumbled and began to flee. The orcs' military tactics weren't as defined as human formations. Their method was more like a swarm rushing forward. Thus, the left wing of the orcs was representative of the entire army's left.

This turmoil directly impacted Orgrim, who was still fighting fiercely on the frontlines.

After knocking away five human warriors with a single blow, Orgrim noticed the sudden thinning of the orcs on the left wing.

Turning his head, he witnessed a sight that made his eyes burn with rage.

The champions of the Horde were fleeing?!

No, not just the left wing. Orgrim saw that the massive dwarf machines had broken through the entire left wing and were now turning around, already reaching the rear of the entire Horde army. It seemed that in less than twenty minutes, they would cut through the entire Horde formation, entering from the left and exiting through the right.

What it meant for the Alliance to break through the Horde's entire formation was clearer to no one else but Orgrim.

Having fought countless battles with the Alliance, every time the Alliance's cavalry broke through the Horde's formation, the Horde inevitably tasted the bitterness of defeat.

"What are the other chieftains doing!?" Orgrim roared.

Suddenly, he saw a chieftain of a lesser clan rallying a large group of orc warriors, carrying massive logs, seemingly preparing to attack these giant machines.

Then…

A loud explosion echoed, and a huge plume of black smoke emerged from one of the most massive machines.

A second later, the group of at least three hundred orc warriors was blown sky-high, scattering in pieces.

"What is that!?" Orgrim was in utter disbelief.

He had seen the dwarves' quirky but seemingly useless contraptions before, but he had never witnessed such a terrifying war machine.

Was it newly made?

Or had the dwarves been hiding it, biding their time until now?

Unknown entities often instill fear.

One by one, the orc clans began to crumble, scattering in panic. Even as the orc horn-blowers continued to blow the horns of advance with all their might, they were still mindlessly trying to rush back to Blackrock Fortress, three kilometers away.

In their hearts, only that place was a true haven.

Here, it was the orcs' nightmare.

"No! Come back! You spineless cowards!" Orgrim shouted in agony, but on this noisy battlefield, his voice could barely reach a hundred meters.

On the other side, as if seeing hope, the Alliance soldiers began to rally. The Alliance commanders raised their banners high, and retreating soldiers regrouped under these symbols of courage. Even with different armors and shields, new human formations appeared.

Moreover, Orgrim saw the glow of portals in the human rear lines. Those dreaded mages of the humans began to re-enter the battlefield.

The magnificent glow of magic was reborn.

It rained down upon the already demoralized front line of the orcs.

"No! Don't!"

"Ancestors! Where are you? Please protect me!"

"For the Horde... Ah!"

This was the collapse of morale and the only path to victory for the orcs.

"No! I cannot accept this!" Orgrim roared like a madman.

Victory... victory was so close, seemingly within grasp. It was right in front of him, but why did it vanish in an instant?

Or was it that from the beginning, the Horde's domination of the entire world of Azeroth was just an unrealistic expectation? The once-invincible Horde, which once ruled an entire world, what happened to you?

Didn't the Draenei produce a lot of quirky things in the past?

So what?

Didn't the Horde still achieve victory?

Why is this familiar taste of victory, ever since setting foot on this alien world, starting to drift away from the Horde?

Orgrim still remembered the taste before an expedition—each clan's bravest warriors taking young orcs into battle, telling them about the Horde's legacy and the belief in certain victory before the expedition. With the most valiant battles, they conquered one enemy after another.

It was the same five years ago, a hundred years ago, and countless millennia ago.

He believed that this faith would be passed down from generation to generation eternally.

This power inherited from the ancestors should also be passed down to the orcs' future generations.

Why have these young orcs forgotten this courage now?

Orgrim's eyes were wide open in rage, unwilling, searching for a last chance to turn the tide.

Suddenly, he believed he had found it!