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Stormwind Mage God

This is a tale of a young guy who travels to the world of Azeroth. He's all about love and justice (and not turning into a ghoul), not afraid to give up everything (he can run back to his corpse to respawn), and on a mission to find what's been lost: morals/morality and humanity (integrity). He never stops trying to regain his integrity, even when he falls off the wagon. ------------- Hello everyone I am back with a new Project!!!!! Yes this was previously partially translated on here -https://www.webnovel.com/book/stormwind-mage-god_25830019606309105 I started over from scratch and did not use any of the previous translator's work. To reiterate- this is a CN translation and not an original story. If you're not into Chinese fanfics this is probably not for you. I am not a professional, this is just a hobby for me, and I am just a 1 man team. I do the best that I can with what I have. The more motivated I am the more active I will be in editing up to chapter 80ish to the current standard. If you like what I do feel free to buy me a coffee at https://www.buymeacoffee.com/GPTandChill - or sign up for my patreon @ patreon.com/GPT_And_Chill

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702 Chs

Reforged Chapter 71: Sir Lothar Teaches You How to Live

"Enough! Silence!" Anduin roared like a lion, instantly silencing the room. He looked at the naga's four thick arms, its massive body, and the huge wooden hammer that was clearly meant for driving stakes to build houses. Anduin quickly understood a lot.

"Send the wounded to find a healing priest. Pause the other matches for now; I'll handle this." Lothar's prestige in the army was unmatched. As the leader personally stepped into the ring, the soldiers immediately fell silent.

At this moment, Duke patted the naga's arm and loudly said, "Before you stands one of the strongest human warriors. Attack with full force, or you'll be defeated, and don't say I didn't warn you."

Lothar was unfazed by Duke's words. He took an unsharpened standard-issue longsword and shield handed to him by a nearby officer, weighed them, and took his stance.

"Come on! Naga, attack me like you did that soldier just now."

Before the naga attacked, Lothar was at ease, even when he saw an eerie, sly smile flash across Duke's face. He didn't care.

As the naga flicked its tail and pounced with speed, he didn't care.

Even when the naga raised its hammer high, he still didn't care.

That's because Lothar had absolute confidence in his martial skills.

The simple overhead hammer strike, with its unsmooth posture, was even worse than what a farmer chopping wood every day could do. Seeing this, Lothar's mouth curled into a slight smile, and his years of knightly training naturally led him to raise his shield.

However, in the next instant, Lothar's smile froze.

Fast!

Too fast!

Under the unimaginable force, the naga's hammer emitted a mournful wail. If it had hit solidly, not only would Lothar be crushed, but even his armor would turn from a tin can into a lump of metal!

Lothar immediately realized that he couldn't block the strike, and no human could easily hold up a shield against it with one hand.

His feet were already in a T-stance, and his excellent sense of distance allowed him to instantly back-jump.

The wailing hammer brushed past the shield, less than an inch away. In the next second, Lothar lunged his sword forward, and the blunt tip pressed against the astonished naga's throat.

The naga's voice was bitter, "I lost."

"No! You did very well." At that moment, Lothar realized he had been sweating profusely, and his clothes were soaked beneath his inner armor.

He was an excellent warrior, a top commander, and he immediately understood the problem. In this one-on-one duel, with ample space, a warrior could display their full range of skills. But what about on a battlefield? In that crowded, pressing environment, maintaining formation was crucial.

Now there were only ten nagas, but if there were a hundred, a thousand nagas swinging their hammers at the same time, it was evident that the soldiers in the front row would be brought to their knees instantly.

Just imagining this simple, brutal, one-hit-kill scenario made Lothar shudder.

Despite the cheering soldiers around him, Lothar's eyes were almost unfocused. Humans seemed so weak in the face of these massive monsters.

What to do?

What to do?!

What to do!!

Lothar's heart was practically roaring. He couldn't bear the thought of his carefully trained soldiers being cut down like vegetables in front of these monsters.

Then he suddenly noticed Duke, wearing a mysterious smile on his face.

"Sir Marcus, do you have any good suggestions?"

Duke, feigning innocence, countered, "Do you think you can't withstand it? Why not use both arms to hold the shield?"

Both arms!?

Duke's seemingly naive remark opened a new window in Lothar's mind.

That's right! If one arm couldn't withstand it, why not use both arms together?

"Come, naga! Strike me again like before, but this time, I won't retaliate," Lothar declared as he raised his shield. This time, he supported the shield with both of his forearms, and he assumed a strong stance with his legs apart. It was an entirely defensive posture.

As expected, the naga's powerful hammer blow came crashing down.

"Boom!" The wooden shield creaked under the immense force, but the exceptional craftsmanship of the Stormwind artisans prevented it from breaking instantly. The overwhelming power was transferred to Lothar's arms.

For a moment, Lothar felt his arms go numb as if they didn't belong to him.

Nevertheless, he managed to withstand the blow, even if it felt like he was about to cough up blood. Lothar was pleased with the success of this new tactic.

"Strike me again, this time here," Lothar said, as he seemed to grasp the trick. He instructed the naga to perform a sweeping attack. He turned to the side, bracing his body as if pushing against a door, allowing the shield to rest on his shoulder. In this position, when the impact came, his entire left arm and shoulder would bear the brunt of the force together.

"Thud!" The ferocious blow nearly shattered the shield, but it held firm.

Lothar seemed quite pleased with the outcome, even though he had taken a hit twice.

After the naga stopped, Lothar turned to Duke and gave him a thumbs-up, "You've done a great service to the kingdom of Stormwind."

Duke merely smiled.

The simple tactic of using both hands to hold the shield and the shoulder to help distribute the impact represented the hard-earned experience from countless battles. In the original history, the soldiers of Stormwind suffered great losses due to their lack of understanding of the orcs. They instinctively followed their training, raising their shields with one hand and attempting to block and counterattack.

However, if they couldn't block the attack, they were instantly defeated. Ninety percent of the soldiers were killed in one blow. If they weren't killed instantly, they were gravely injured and finished off by the subsequent attack.

It was only after losing thousands of lives that they learned this technique.

Now, with Duke's advice, he believed that history would be rewritten.

Anduin turned to the officers below and shouted, "Did you see those two positions just now? Practice defensive counterattacks like that. Don't worry about your blunt swords hurting the naga, their scales aren't as fragile as you might think, as long as you don't strike their eyes or throat."

After giving his orders, Lothar approached Duke and whispered, "How many more naga do you have that I can borrow?"

"A hundred at most," Duke replied quietly.

"I'll take them all. Don't worry, I won't let anyone bully your naga subordinates. Although I know you're not exactly short on money, I'll pay you the standard instructor's salary."

"Thank you!"

"No! It's us, me and Llane, who should be thanking you... Actually, do you have anything you want to tell me or Llane?"

"No," Duke decisively shook his head.

"That's fine. I like you, buddy," Lothar gently tapped Duke's chest with his massive fist.

As Lothar walked away, Duke murmured to himself, "I've done all I can. Now, it's up to whether the goddess of luck lifts her skirt for us."