Chapter 166: Temporary Retreat

Translator here:

I know there will for sure be some inconsistencies and mistakes that will be found. All I ask is that you please leave a in chapter comment and I will get to it when I can. Thank you....

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Grom Hellscream widened his eyes, disbelief filling the bloodshot orbs.

Unlike other crude orcs, Grom hailed from the esteemed wolfrider-producing Warsong clan. This clan, which valued skill, will, and intent, held fundamentally different combat ideals than most orcs.

Grom knew with certainty that his confident blow had been deflected.

A slight error could lead to vast consequences.

As the minuscule deviation accumulated, the miraculous combo transmitted through his psychic connection with his weapon, Gorehowl.

Initially, Grom had believed that even a 10-foot thick city wall wouldn't stop his axe from cleaving into his enemy's back.

He had miscalculated.

This mysterious human mage, whom he had never met before, possessed astonishing skills.

Even from a distance, he could discern what Duke had done.

The earth-shattering axe blow, like striking countless layers of paper, was weakened with each layer. Bit by bit, as if water dripping onto stone.

Duke's technique, however, was more extreme and precise by an immeasurable factor.

A triple-digit mid-level spell combo caused the fatal blow to deviate.

"Ah!" Grom Hellscream's mouth leaked a long sigh, barely audible and almost ethereal.

The usually confident Grom suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of powerlessness. He had imbued the willpower of his entire clan into Gorehowl to alter destiny, only for the enemy to effortlessly return it to its original course, like water flowing downhill, the sun rising after a long night, or the cyclical change of seasons…

This axe swing, my word of hitting doesn't count, but yours of missing does!

Under the watchful gaze of countless orcs, the infamous Gorehowl ultimately deviated from its course, missing Duke by less than half a meter.

This near miss startled the feathers off Duke's gryphon, frightened Daniel nearly wet himself, but didn't cause any real harm to the detestable Duke Markus.

"Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha!" The gryphon soared higher and higher, becoming a small black dot in the sky, leaving the bitter orcs with nothing but the sound of mocking laughter.

The faces of every orc present darkened.

Perhaps it was due to the smoke, or perhaps it was just the darkening of their spirits.

A massive explosion, complete with flames, smoke, and anguished screams, unfolded a kilometer away. The human guards on Stormwind's outer walls couldn't help but see and hear the chaos.

As the gryphon descended from the clouds, the guards recognized Duke's iconic mage robe and cheered deafeningly.

"Good job, Count Markus!"

"Smash those green-skins!"

"Burn, burn, burn! It'd be better if they all burned to death!"

"Lord Markus—you're our guardian deity—"

Duke had Daniel pilot the gryphon, slowly flying over the outer wall, stirring greater cheers with each wave of his hand.

Lothar approached with a small squad of gryphon riders.

The ever-handsome Azerothian demigod, with his wind-swept wavy black hair, let out a lion's roar of laughter before even getting close. "Ha ha ha! Duke, well done!"

"Hey! I almost lost my life there. I bet several Horde chieftains hate me now."

"No worries! Even if you were really trapped there, I'd have the confidence to rescue you with my team."

Duke rolled his eyes at Lothar's coiled rope resting on the gryphon's rear, wondering if he would be roped like a cowboy in a Western movie, with the rope tightened around his neck as he was pulled to safety.

"Ugh! If it weren't for you, King Llane wouldn't have let me deploy all the gryphon riders," Duke grumbled, his heart warmed by Lothar's support. The gryphons flew towards the inner walls of Stormwind City, approaching the eastern flight point.

The gryphons spread their massive wings to slow down, flapping a few times, their sharp claws scratching the thick hay beneath them. Before the gryphons could fully come to a stop, Lothar nimbly dismounted. But someone arrived even faster than Lothar—the King of Stormwind, Llane. "How did it go?" Llane asked impatiently.

"No worries. The orcs will retreat for now," Duke replied. "Are you sure?" Llane's face lit up with undisguised joy. "Of course!" Duke's voice rose an octave, "Not only did I burn most of their tents, but I also added a little something to their only water source."

"A little something?" At almost the same moment, Blackhand, the Warchief of the Horde, was so furious he could be renamed Blackface. "Report. Our water source has been poisoned?" Blackhand inquired. "Poisoned? How could running water be poisoned?" Kilrogg, who stood next to Blackhand, questioned the captain of Blackhand's personal guard.

"I don't know. But the water flowing down the mountain is now green, and my men have confirmed that the livestock die after just a few sips. Some have seen naga in the water, so it must be the human naga who poisoned it."

"Didn't we have a dam blocking the naga?" asked Orgrim Doomhammer. "That human mage blew it up. We were too chaotic to notice." Several Horde leaders fell silent simultaneously. Initially, the Elwynn Forest was filled with murlocs and naga attacking the orc laborers who tried to fetch water from the river. However, Orgrim suggested building a crude dam to prevent the naga and murlocs from freely entering and leaving the river.

After several failed attempts by the naga to bypass the dam and getting ambushed by the orcs, the naga were hardly seen in the Elwynn Forest. But Duke's sneak attack had allowed the naga to enter the area once more. Now, all the large, shady trees had been burned clean by Duke, and even their only water source had been contaminated.

A few thousand people might have managed to slowly dig deep wells, but there were three hundred thousand soldiers here! Orcs were indeed brave and fierce warriors, but they were not undead. They needed food, drink, and rest. Without water, the situation became extremely dire. Blackhand was enraged, but not completely out of his mind.

The word "retreat" rolled around in his throat for several moments before finally squeezing through his clenched teeth. Meanwhile, exuberant cheers shook the walls of Stormwind City. The citizens and soldiers within the city raised their heads, looking perplexedly towards the outer walls.

Before long, messengers on horseback raced through the streets, shouting: "Great news! Great news! Sky Mage Duke Marcus, Earl of Stormwind, launched a surprise attack on the orc headquarters, killing or injuring over ten thousand orcs! The orcs have now begun retreating from the southern gate!"