Chapter 565: The Lion Banner Enters the Horizon

Indeed! It is none other than Duke Marcus!

While he may not be the Grand Marshal or the leader of the Alliance, Duke's influence and role within the Alliance surpasses even those positions.

By eliminating him, the Alliance's momentum can surely be halted.

Without this brilliant tactician, who always thinks outside the box, the Alliance is merely a group stuck in conventional warfare. The servant of the Firelord Ragnaros, Baron Geddon, withdrew. Before he departed, a message from the flames relayed, "The Red Dragon Queen, Alexstrasza, vows never to invade the lands of the Firelord unless he threatens the world's safety."

This gave Orgrim renewed hope.

Without the Duke, Orgrim could hold firm at Blackrock Mountain. With minimal Horde defense at Blackrock Fortress, he could free up the main forces to counterattack Elwynn Forest, driving the humans of Stormwind Kingdom into the sea for a second time. If they could last until winter, the Horde would have a chance to breathe. Holding onto at least half the southern continent would satisfy the Horde chieftains.

But reality proves to be harsher than ideals.

Duke sensed Orgrim's intentions. Even from a distance, he smirked at Orgrim and gestured a casual farewell.

Duel? With my magical circuits in disarray and every finger movement causing muscle pain, you expect me to duel a fully enraged warrior boss?

That's simply laughable.

Of course, Duke didn't bother engaging Orgrim.

All preparations were in place. With Muradin Bronzebeard shielding Duke with two shields and Magni wielding two great axes at the front, and atop the tank turret, the Windrunner sisters were fiercely battling the Horde, though it seemed they were just circling around Duke.

It would be foolish for Duke to abandon his charge and return to duel Orgrim.

Initially, Orgrim thought that abandoning the front line and charging back for just a minute or so would bring him right next to Duke.

The irony was when he tried to charge, the tank beneath Duke had already accelerated. The tank driver, likely driving without a license, sped forward, running over countless orcs. Yet, it still managed to hit a speed of 40 km/h.

For a steam tank, this speed is unimaginable. Though, this would probably damage the boiler later.

As Orgrim watched in shock, Duke's tank left in a cloud of dust, leading the tank brigade to wreak havoc on the still relatively intact right wing of the Horde.

Orgrim turned back, feeling a deep sense of despair.

The Horde, initially in a favorable position, was now locked in a fierce battle. Their advancing front line had become fragmented.

Despite several charges led by the chieftains and veteran Horde warriors almost breaking the human line, the resilience of the human soldiers defied every Horde warrior's expectations. The right-wing orcs, in a desperate attempt, managed to create a significant breach. Yet, the Dalaran soldiers, known for their weaker fighting spirit, surprisingly displayed unprecedented valor.

Had this been before, they would've scattered, allowing the orcs to chase and slaughter them like ducks. Now, they'd quickly form smaller defensive circles. If their swords broke, they'd use shields. If shields shattered, they'd use daggers. And if they had nothing left, they'd use their fists.

The orcs' repeated assaults were repelled, leading to no progress on their right flank. The battleground turned gruesomely bloody.

The Alliance's spearmen returned, hurling their spears at the orcs from just 20 meters behind their frontline. The fff brigade, equipped with flamethrowers, also arrived, targeting the less experienced orcs.

Orgrim, breathing heavily, felt cold inside.

The sky was darkened by the dense shower of spears, and the land was soaked in the blood of countless orcs. The sounds of desperate screams and furious shouts filled Orgrim's ears. He wanted to prevent the Horde from sliding into this abyss of defeat, but it seemed futile.

"Great Chieftain! We must act now!" Rexxar, after slaying an Alliance soldier, approached Orgrim. No beasts accompanied him.

Orgrim looked at Rexxar, the orc who once took a hit for him in Grim Batol. With Kash'drakor dead, Rexxar, with his ogre lineage, managed to survive due to his robust physique. Now, the life-saving Rexxar had become his chief bodyguard.

Orgrim smiled, "Yes, we must do something."

The weakened Horde stood like a crumbling wall, blocking all light and hope. Their initial policy of annihilation had dug their grave. Defeating the Draenei might've been possible, but against the diverse races of Azeroth, it's suicidal.

Orgrim always strived for change, seeking a path for the Horde to thrive. In his vision, he saw the dawn's light piercing through the dark wall, illuminating the decays and holes.

He yearned to see the world beyond that wall. But first, he had to decide whether to be buried beneath its collapse or tear it down to behold a brighter world.

Who could help the Horde turn the tide?

Suddenly, Orgrim spotted a brigade of knights entering the battlefield.

The blue banner adorned with gold trim and a lion's head was unmistakable. Orgrim would never forget this emblem — the Golden Lion of Stormwind.

Stormwind, the first kingdom the orcs conquered upon arriving in this world.

Now, the remnants of this fallen kingdom were turning the tide against the Horde, pushing them to the brink.