Chapter 150: The Long-Awaited Arrival

Warchief Blackhand was in a bind.

It was simple – the Horde's frontal assault on Stormwind City had only brought them suffering. Stormwind was situated in a massive valley with only two exits: the harbor to the west, and the land route to the south.

Naval warfare was never the orcs' forte, and to quickly conquer Stormwind and crush human resistance, Blackhand had given up on a divided attack on Westfall. In his eyes, taking Stormwind, guarded by feeble humans, should have been a matter of minutes. Little did he expect to be stuck outside the city walls for a full week, losing over 30,000 elite orc warriors.

And that was just the outer wall. According to the scouts' reports, Blackhand knew there was a massive lake behind Stormwind's outer wall, which served as the true moat protecting the city. Behind that moat stood the actual walls of Stormwind.

To make matters worse, the scouts reported that canals ran throughout the city, with humans fortifying every district day and night. To the northeast of Stormwind, it seemed there was an enormous fortress, the true heart of the human kingdom.

Blackhand's head ached.

The orcs aimed to conquer the entire world, but with their reinforcements cut off, how could they continue fighting after losing so many troops here?

However, the scouts' reports offered a glimmer of hope for the troubled Blackhand.

To humans, the massive valley was a natural barrier.

But for orcs, who spent years scaling mountains and traversing cliffs, even the most treacherous terrain was nothing. East of Stormwind, there was a relatively flat mountain path that could be taken to bypass the city and arrive at the city walls.

Although humans had built tall walls there as well, they were only one layer thick, unlike the triple-layered outer walls to the south, which also included the massive moat and inner wall.

If they attacked from the east, they'd be much closer to that enormous fortress.

"Orgrim, lead a strike team to attack from there. I'll continue the feint on the front."

"Understood."

The overjoyed Warchief failed to notice that his once incredibly loyal lieutenant was wearing a grim expression.

Once upon a time, Blackhand and Orgrim were as close as brothers. Many years ago, when the Blackrock clan faced the threat of annihilation by ogres, Blackhand and his lieutenant Orgrim launched a surprise attack. On the eve of battle, he helped Orgrim retrieve the legendary weapon, the Doomhammer, from a pool of molten lava, which filled the clan's warriors with excitement and ultimately led them to victory.

Unfortunately, in that lava pool, Blackhand's fist was corrupted by chaotic forces and turned into stone, thus earning him his name.

One could say that Blackhand and Orgrim shared a bond forged in battle.

However, their relationship was strained by Gul'dan. Orgrim had just received news that the guards he sent to escort Durotan and his wife had betrayed him! The traitor had joined the Shadow Council and, along with the council's assassins, murdered Durotan and his wife.

Upon receiving Durotan's tusks from his subordinate, Orgrim nearly went mad, itching to challenge Blackhand – who fiercely protected the Shadow Council – to a duel for leadership of the Horde.

But he held back!

The time wasn't right. He wanted not only to eliminate the evil protector Blackhand but also to uproot Gul'dan's Shadow Council completely.

Fortunately, he found an opportunity. By chance, he encountered the feeble half-orc female assassin Garona while on patrol.

He and his guards captured her. The stench of Gul'dan's curse on her was so strong that Orgrim could smell it from several tents away.

Orgrim was almost overjoyed, knowing that if he continuously tortured Garona, he would eventually learn the true location of Gul'dan and the Shadow Council's lair.

Time! That's what he was most lacking.

Before that moment arrived, he had to be patient.

Orgrim took command, and his forces appeared like a heavenly army near the walls of Stormwind near the fortress. All he saw was a small group of feeble human spearmen. There were no ballistae or trebuchets, and he couldn't even spot the javelineers he despised the most.

"For the Horde!" Orgrim roared, and the orcs following him charged towards the wall.

Unlike the reinforced and strengthened outer walls of Stormwind, this section of the wall built towards the cliffside was more of a decoration. From the time it was built, no one thought enemies would be able to traverse the steep mountains to reach this side.

Even if there were enemies, there wouldn't be many. And the steep cliffs would make it impossible to carry heavy siege equipment. With only a few trees in the area, the wall was just over sixteen feet high.

For unarmed humans, this was an impassable barrier.

The builders had been extremely cautious in constructing it so high.

No one would have imagined that not only would enemies come, but they would be the unreasonable orcs.

No need for ladders, as the orcs at the forefront crouched down, interlocking their fingers to form a makeshift foothold. Then, they used brute force to boost their comrades up.

Thus, an orc weighing hundreds of pounds 'flew' up the sixteen-foot-high wall.

Stormwind's elite had been led to the main gate by Lothar. Not only Lothar, but King Llane and most of his royal guards were on the other side of the outer wall. All the remaining mages of Stormwind had gone with them.

At this moment, Stormwind's fortress was incredibly vulnerable.

Defending the fortress were only half a royal guard squad, along with a mixed group of fighters, totaling fewer than 500 people.

The city guards had been defeated, and now these 500 individuals faced nearly 3,000 ferocious orc elites. Behind them were the queen, the young prince, and nearly a hundred noble family members.

"For the king!" The royal guards fought back with all their might, their rigorous training and skill allowing them to hold their own against the orc elites in one-on-one combat. Unfortunately, their numbers were too few.

The strong orcs had countless chances to make mistakes, but the physically weaker humans would be killed instantly with a single misstep.

Blood flowed from the entrance of Stormwind's fortress to the throne room. After the brutal fighting, the ground was littered with twisted, mutilated bodies, splattered brains, and shattered skulls.

The royal knights tried their best, but they still couldn't prevent the scales of victory from tipping towards the orcs.

In the throne room, Varian Wrynn drew his small dagger, guarding his mother closely. Behind him, the noble sons and daughters let out frightened cries.

Far outside Stormwind's fortress, in the distance across four city blocks, was King Llane, riding back with his royal guards at breakneck speed….

The last barrier standing between the queen and the prince and the enemy, the heroic royal guard, was struck down one by one at the hand of a red-skinned orc wielding a giant hammer.

Despair spread uncontrollably.

But at this moment, Varian Wrynn sees a light...a radiant, arcane light!