Chapter 152: A Dazzling Entrance

Windsor was the second to step forward. Having experienced the great battle with demons, Windsor felt reborn. Especially regarding large enemies, he and the elite soldiers who returned from Karazhan possessed extraordinary strength that surpassed that of ordinary elite fighters. He thought he could handle it. Though surprised by the ferocity of the red-skinned orc, different from other orcs, he still charged forward with his shield raised. The King's Defender in his right hand emitted a dazzling cold light. He underestimated Orgrim. Windsor couldn't have known he was facing the future Warchief of the Horde, the top warrior of the Horde at this time. In 'history', it was Orgrim who personally killed Azeroth's Lion, Anduin Lothar, in the final battle. Had he known this was an opponent beyond his capabilities, he might have employed a completely different strategy. Alas, there were no "ifs" in life. In Windsor's view, anyone using a heavy weapon must be sluggish and full of weaknesses. So he rapidly closed the gap. Windsor was wrong, terribly wrong. Just as Orgrim crushed a royal guard with his hammer, the muscles in his arm swelled suddenly, and the red veins on his exposed skin writhed like serpents. Possessing strength beyond human imagination, Orgrim's Doomhammer swept across like a storm towards Windsor. With a booming impact, Windsor held his shield, but even though the hammer struck the shield, the horrifying force of a giant-level power measured in tons was not something a mortal could withstand. Windsor's left arm twisted and deformed instantaneously, fracturing in multiple places. The immense force even injured his internal organs. As he was sent flying and before falling from mid-air, blood sprayed from his mouth and nose, and he teetered on the brink of death. Behind Orgrim, the ferocious orcs cut down all the standing human warriors in the hall like slicing through melons. Between the queen and Orgrim, only a trembling Varian with a dagger remained. A tear slid down the queen's beautiful face, evoking pity and heartache. Orgrim, carrying his hammer, strode forward, each step seemingly shaking the earth. "Are you the wife of the human Warchief?" Orgrim spoke in orcish. The queen didn't understand everything, but her recent contact with Garona allowed her to comprehend the word 'Warchief'. The queen straightened her chest and said in a clear and proper Common: "I am the Queen of Stormwind. If you want my husband's life, I'm sorry, but he's on his way. If you want my life and that of my child, you can take it now!" Orgrim didn't understand Common, but he admired the courage of this human female. Not just her, but also the human cub. From his initial timidity, he found courage amidst extreme fear. Though the cub held only a dagger, Orgrim knew he was about to attack. "AAAAAH!" Varian screamed and charged, stabbing his dagger out. However, it was useless. Brave Varian was sent flying by a mere flick of Orgrim's finger. "No—" Between his most respected mother and the brutal orc, there was no more barrier. He couldn't imagine how the savage and cruel monster would treat his mother. Neither outcome was something Varian wanted to see. "Is there anyone!?" "Is anyone still here?" "Who can save my mother? Save Stormwind!?" Tears streamed down Varian's young, handsome face, twisted in pain. He wailed loudly, but all he could see were women and children, all weak and shrinking back, trying to delay the arrival of death for just a little longer. Could he really be pleading desperately to this group of people? Varian had truly despaired, completely despaired. Nearly beside himself, he roared, "Uncle Anduin, aren't you the guardian of the kingdom? Duke, aren't you the great mage who claims to surpass Medivh? The kingdom is in danger! My mother is in danger! Where are you all?!" Although he couldn't understand, a mocking expression appeared on Orgrim's face. Just as he was about to say something, a magical brilliance suddenly shone before him. "Yo, who was calling for me just now? Was it you, Your Royal Highness, the Prince?" A teasing male voice suddenly echoed throughout the hall. Orgrim hated magic. But at a time like this, he couldn't help but wish he had a shaman or even a warlock by his side. A dazzling blue light flashed, and a young man wearing the robe of the Stormwind royal mage suddenly appeared, standing between the queen, Varian, and Orgrim. Unexpectedly, the young man began to speak in fluent orcish. "Orgrim Doomhammer, this is not a place for you. Get out!" The thunderous rebuke left Orgrim momentarily dumbfounded. The next second, the young man raised his right hand, and a spiraling firestorm swept toward all the orc warriors standing near the entrance of the hall. Dragon's Breath? No! How could there be a Dragon's Breath with such a wide range? The roaring flames of the fire dragon filled the massive hall's entrance, measuring six meters wide and ten meters high. Even Varian, who was standing behind the young mage, could sense the terrifying power of the flames that could incinerate everything. Not to mention Orgrim, who was directly facing this heavy blow. Without any hesitation, Orgrim slammed his hammer onto the ground. From the cracked marble, a destructive flame, completely different from Dragon's Breath, collided with it. That was the power of the Doomhammer! For a brief moment, the two forces collided, and Orgrim actually managed to hold them off. But in the next instant, the young mage extended his left hand, striking a horse stance punch. A giant arcane energy fist, larger than a human, materialized out of thin air, pierced through the flames of the Dragon's Breath, and slammed into Orgrim. "Ugh—" Caught off guard, Orgrim was sent flying. Get back to where you came from! The remaining orcs were burned to a crisp, and the entire hall was filled with the unpleasant smell of charred flesh. For a moment, the entire throne room fell silent. Who was this young royal mage? The royal mage corps had been nearly wiped out after fighting for so long. Once numbering over a hundred mages, they had been completely outmatched in their confrontations with orc warlocks, and now only twenty remained. The queen recognized each of them and remembered clearly that they had all been led by King Llane to the southern outer city walls. Who was he...? (To be continued.)