Chapter 81: Duke's Teacher?

Some things are only truly appreciated after they are lost, like Medivh.

With the Guardian of Azeroth, the world's strongest mage, in charge, King Llane of Stormwind could face even the most powerful kingdom of humanity, Lordaeron, without fear.

Orcs or any other foe were no match for them; they could be taken out with a snap of a finger.

They could teach the orcs a thing or two about being civilized.

But now...

Sigh, tears were all that was left to fall.

In Lothar's mind at this moment, it had not yet been confirmed that Medivh was the mastermind behind the crisis that threatened to destroy the entire kingdom. However, one thing was clear: even the elite Griffin Legion had been defeated, let alone the regular garrison and noble guards.

If things continued like this, the Kingdom of Stormwind would undoubtedly fall to these green-skinned monsters.

He had thought countless times that if he were to survive this mission, he would try his best to persuade King Llane to launch an attack on the orcs with the seven human kingdoms.

But that was all wishful thinking.

Until a mysterious black-robed mage floated over from the opposite mountain peak.

No one would have noticed him if it weren't for his grand entrance. Not only did he freeze all the orcs' feet with a single breath, but he also had over a hundred Mage Hands constantly firing Arcane Missiles.

Moving while casting spells wasn't too advanced of a technique, many formal mages could do it.

But to control over a hundred Mage Hands while moving and firing them at the orcs, hitting almost all of them? That was terrifying.

Anduin Lothar was almost stunned.

This black-robed mage may have been using low-level spells, but his power was unimaginable. He had single-handedly turned the tide of the entire battle in a matter of minutes. Even if half the Royal Mage Corps had come, they couldn't have achieved the same effect.

For a moment, Lothar almost thought his old friend Medivh had come back to his senses and returned.

But it wasn't Medivh; the strange Arcane energy emanating from the mage was nothing like Medivh's.

"Lothar! Evacuate your men immediately! This old man has prepared a few big gifts for these rough bastards." The same old voice spoke, causing Lothar to pause for a moment.

Duke knew Lothar wouldn't believe it either, but it was another Mage Transmission. Lothar gritted his teeth and nodded in the end. "We'll retreat as a team, and someone will cover us."

That was Lothar's order. He didn't fully trust the words of this mysterious old man, but compared to Sizemore, his situation was worse. Sizemore had already retreated, and if he didn't do the same, his unit would be destroyed even faster when the orcs arrived.

As the remnants of the Gryphon Legion retreated up the mountain, Lothar finally received the cover the old man had promised.

It was with hundreds of strange "long arrows." Lothar's keen eyesight was able to clearly see that these "long arrows" were longer and more peculiar in shape than the arrows of the Stormwind Kingdom's archers. He originally thought they were the long arrows favored by elven rangers, but upon closer inspection, Lothar was surprised to find that these "long arrows" were not launched by bowstrings and were not crossbows either.

Lothar couldn't possibly understand that this was black technology that could be replicated in this era, brought by Duke.

As a player who had also played "Total War: Rome II," Duke stumbled upon a piece of information when he was feeling annoyed, which he had already forgotten about. And yet, the system spirit had somehow found it.

That is the Roman Pilum.

The head of the Roman Pilum was specially designed:

First, one of the rivets on the head of the pilum was replaced with wood, causing the pilum to break immediately upon impact, preventing enemies from pulling it out and throwing it back.

Then, the great Caesar himself also made improvements to this type of spear. He added a hard iron spear tip to the soft metal shaft, making the pilum even more penetrating. However, the top point of the spearhead was not fully quenched, causing it to bend upon impact and making it difficult to pull out. Later, a lightweight pilum with a lead weight added to the wooden-iron junction was developed, which had an even longer flight range.

So what Lothar saw was the final version of the Roman Pilum, which had undergone three generations of improvements.

On the mountaintop, hundreds of young fishermen were fervently hurling spear after spear. After months of training, they had become adept at throwing these strange spears. However, they had no idea that Duke had been training them to become spear throwers, not whale hunters.

Lightweight bows and arrows were not enough to inflict fatal wounds on the sturdy orcs, but spears were a different story. Heavy and specially made, these spears traced graceful parabolas through the air, passing just over the stunned heads of the griffin riders and striking the massive bodies of the orcs with deadly accuracy.

Under the force of gravity, the spears became deadly weapons, and it wasn't uncommon to see an orc hit in a vital spot and fly backwards, rolling down the slope and even knocking over several other orcs.

Combined with Duke's barrage of arcane missiles, the spear team easily suppressed the entire orc army's assault.

From the fortress on the mountaintop, it seemed like an endless stream of spears rained down upon the orcs, and the entire mountainside echoed with the sounds of orc screams, griffin rider cheers, and the "whoosh" of the wind.

"Good! Good! You're killing them good! From today on, the friends on the mountaintop are our brothers!"

The griffin riders watched helplessly as their allies fell one by one, unable to do anything against these savage and crude green-skinned monsters. Now that they saw the orcs suffering heavy casualties, they naturally cheered and rejoiced!

Only Lothar remained clear-headed. He knew that this kind of attack could not last forever.

"Warriors, take your allies' weapons! The new recruits of the Griffin Legion will need the legacy of these brave souls." Lothar realized that if it was a full-scale war, the weapon production of Stormwind City's craftsmen could not possibly meet the demand.

The road to the mountaintop was treacherous, but for the Griffin Legion warriors who were not yet exhausted, it was not too difficult. On the mountaintop fortress, Lothar took off his sweat-stained helmet and was shocked to find that the ones who had just risked their lives to protect them were a group of dark-skinned fishermen.

They were shirtless, shouting and continuing to offer bundles of spears as death gifts to the orcs. The nearest orcs were suppressed about a hundred meters away.

Lothar immediately thought of something and walked up to Duke.

"Respected mage, may I ask what your relationship with Duke Marcus is?"

"That kid? Let's just say he's my disciple." Duke continued to speak in a disguised voice using the system's spirit, with an old and haughty tone.

Lothar was very smart and immediately imagined many things. It turned out that the crafty Duke had such a mysterious and powerful master behind him, no wonder...