Chapter 450: Layer Upon Layer (Part 1)

In truth, before deciding to attack the Alliance camp north of Lordaeron City, Orgrim Doomhammer had considered an alternative. That was to ignore this camp and bypass it from the north.

In the end, the Warchief abandoned this idea.

Firstly, the Alliance camp was too large, spanning a full ten kilometers in width.

Secondly, for some unknown reason, the area further north was a swamp that stretched for at least twenty kilometers. Of course, Orgrim didn't know that his scouts had encountered a swamp spell conjured by elven mages, and that the swamp beyond was merely an illusion. Without the magical support of Gul'dan, the Horde was blind in this regard.

Orgrim had to choose: either break through the Alliance camp or detour sixty to seventy kilometers to rendezvous with Grom Hellscream's Warsong clan.

Clearly, in the face of formidable enemies, taking such a long detour was a very dangerous choice. This was a round trip, and it wouldn't be surprising if thousands of troops emerged from the Alliance camp midway.

Orgrim chose to storm the camp.

The Horde attacked the Alliance in a calculated wedge formation.

In the center were the ogres and the elite of the Blackrock clan, with trolls on the flanks.

After paying a hefty sacrifice, the Horde's offensive was like a hammer demolishing a house, fiercely shattering the Alliance's defense line.

The Alliance's elven rangers also fought back with all their might. However, even with the help of a large number of "Life-Taker 3000" landmines, they couldn't stop the advance of the Horde.

Dazzling explosions illuminated the eyes of more orcs. The unfortunate vanguards seemed to be surrounded by colorful flashes that disturbed their vision, then they were beautifully dismembered by various magics. The result, of course, was their downfall.

Many orcs who were not yet dead let out horrific wails on the battlefield.

But the orcs could also hear the sound of wooden walls being shattered by their hammers. The two-person-high wooden walls, under the violent demolition of the orcs, turned into countless wood chips scattering in all directions.

"Lok-tar!" The earth-shaking roar echoed across the entire battlefield.

When the first outer wall of the camp fell, a triumphant roar erupted from the Horde.

Victory was in sight!

According to the orcs' understanding of humans, there wouldn't be too many walls in a camp. Usually just three walls, and they could definitely reach the core area.

The orcs sacrificed a full five thousand elites before they reached the second wall.

After another round of violent demolition, the second wooden wall also fell.

This time, the orcs were met with the magical attack they both longed to see and dreaded.

On the wooden tower a hundred meters away, the flowing robes of the high elven mages were clearly visible.

When the magic circle floating in mid-air lit up, the magic beam that was shot out, the splashes of light and heat, formed a series of disorderly flame currents, sweeping across the entire orc battle line.

At the same time, over a thousand arrows stirred up a storm, pouring down on the orcs all at once.

At the side of the second wall, it was as if a gate to hell had formed. Any orc who dared to step into this area would be sucked into the realm of death.

Red, orange, yellow, green... The exploding magic lights stimulated the orcs' eyes, and the deafening sound was enough to drive any new soldier mad on the battlefield.

Gathering hundreds of sky mages to bombard one area was undoubtedly a luxury.

Yet, it must be said, this tactic of concentrating firepower on a specific area has never failed throughout history. This time was no exception. The continuous vortex of magical currents caused significant casualties on the Horde's side, while also creating an atmosphere of terror and chaos.

It was like a bucket of cold water poured on the enemy's victory celebration, extinguishing their morale.

Orgrim grabbed the chestplate of his second-in-command, Oslight. "The main camp of the Alliance is just ahead. Order the troops to spread out! Spread out and attack, we can't charge at the enemy's strongest point."

The Horde soldiers seemed to retreat for a moment, but then, under the scolding of the middle-ranking commanders behind them, they gave up retreating and instead moved horizontally.

However, this played right into the hands of the elven rangers.

When the orcs charged fiercely, the rangers might not have been able to replenish their arrows well, or even catch their breath.

Fighting on a minefield sounded as thrilling and uplifting as dancing on the edge of a knife. But when they actually fought, they realized it wasn't as easy as they had imagined.

Yes, the mines wouldn't explode when the elves stepped on them.

The problem was, if an elven ranger didn't notice an orc approaching, and the orc stepped on a "Life-Taker 3000" mine not far from the ranger, the magic wouldn't discriminate and would still affect the ranger. The trolls would also use their throwing spears.

Shooting arrows required concentration.

Keeping an eye on the overall situation required divided attention.

This was not an easy thing to do.

Even the elite of the Windrunner family had a dozen or so members die due to mishaps.

Of course, this was much better than the previous situation where they had to fight the trolls in the jungle without any cover.

The Horde, which had avoided the magical bombardment and advanced in a roundabout way, didn't know that they had drawn the short straw.

The high elven mages stopped casting spells, retreated to rest, and handed the battlefield back to the ranger troops.

After no longer needing to dodge, the elven rangers on the third wooden wall poured a rain of arrows on the spreading Horde. According to Sylvanas, it was as easy and satisfying as hunting.

However, the Horde had a simpler and more violent way to avoid the rain of arrows.

These savages to the extreme actually used a dozen orcs to lift an entire wooden wall with brute force, using the huge wall as a shield to push deeper into the camp.

When one orc was killed, another immediately took his place to hold up the wall.

This brute force solution left the elves dumbfounded. Apart from a few rangers who had entered the realm of heroes, the other rangers had no solution for such a large 'shield'.

Duke had no choice but to let Marian take action.

As a top mage who could be classified as a superweapon in any country, Marian of the Moonlight level easily created one explosion after another without even needing to aim.

As a Firewing, she was naturally a born follower of the Five Fireball specialty.

The wild flames painted a series of blood and fire oil paintings on the battlefield. Often, the explosion of a large fireball meant that hundreds of orcs lost their cover and would die in the rangers' hunt.

After the orcs paid the death of a thousand men, they finally brought down the third wooden wall. Orgrim, of course, wouldn't miss this opportunity, and a simple but powerful command was issued to the entire army.

"Charge!"

In theory, after the three wooden walls, it should be the main camp of the humans.

The sacrifice of seven thousand Horde soldiers was worth it. They charged forward with all their might, yearning to do as they had once done in Elwynn Forest—when their massive axes broke through the weak doors of human houses, what followed was the defenseless interior.