Chapter 168: Dumbfounded Orcs

Hundreds of thousands of Horde warriors had gathered.

Taking down this small human kingdom wouldn't require so many troops, especially since Orgrim had already found the enemy's weak point—the low wall in the valley!

Scattering to forage was an ancient survival tactic of the orcs. With the current food shortage, it was even less advisable to gather such a massive force.

The question was, who would attack the dwarves?

Creatures in nature often have an instinct to judge strength based on size. Orcs generally looked down on the short humans, whose height often only reached an orc's chest. Not to mention the dwarves, who were only as tall as an orc's waist.

In the eyes of the orcs, wiping out those dwarves, who were even weaker than orc children, should be a matter of minutes.

So the orc chieftains saw this as a golden opportunity.

For a moment, the eyes of every chieftain burned with eagerness. Staying here, they would certainly receive a share of the victory. But with Warchief Blackhand and his main force present, the greatest glory and benefits would undoubtedly go to the Blackrock clan. The other clans could only follow behind, watching the Blackrocks feast on the spoils and settling for scraps.

Leaving would be different.

Risk? When was survival ever without risk? In their homeland of Draenor (as the orcs referred to it), every hunt was a life-or-death struggle. To the orcs, risk wasn't an issue.

Each chieftain unconsciously stepped forward.

Blackhand squinted his eyes, using his limited mental capacity to think.

Soon, the Warchief made a decision.

"Kilrogg! The honor of conquering Ironforge is yours. I hope your Bleeding Hollow clan can uphold the might of the Horde."

"For the Horde!" Kilrogg Deadeye punched his chest with a resounding thud, his aged orcish face alight with intense excitement.

Blackhand turned to Grommash Hellscream, who had arrived just before the Dark Portal closed: "Your Warsong clan shall head north and capture the kingdom known as Stromgarde."

"Heh heh! My Gorehowl is already parched for blood." Grommash's lips curled up, revealing a bloodthirsty grin.

Blackhand slammed his rough hand onto the wooden table, shattering one corner: "The other clans, prepare! We'll scale the mountains and attack Stormwind's eastern wall directly."

Blackhand and Orgrim's plan was sound.

Unfortunately, reality didn't align with their ideals.

After spending eleven days clearing obstacles for the army's advance, with orc laborers digging wells along the way, Orgrim and the orc army behind him were dumbfounded when they once again crossed the mountains.

Blackhand grabbed Orgrim by the neck and roared, "This is your idea of a weak defense?"

The wall was still the same five-meter wall the orcs saw as low, but not only were there many more fortified enclosures like the ones outside Stormwind's main gate, but there was also a damn five-meter-wide moat.

On top of that, numerous large mounds of earth had been piled up behind the wall, with catapults and ballistae atop the flattened peaks. Dozens of arrow towers stood tall, their archers easily covering the area beyond the moat.

"Hahaha! Those green-skinned beasts must be stupefied!" Lothar laughed heartily from an arrow tower, watching the hesitant Horde army.

Beside him, King Llane also smiled sincerely:

We truly owe you, Duke. Without your ingenuity, we might have already been done for," said Lothar, smiling sincerely.

Duke shrugged, "It's nothing. There's strength in numbers, that's all."

"You don't have to be modest. You're my lucky star," Lothar said with a smile.

A simple defense would never be able to withstand the tide-like assault of the orcs. So, Duke, the traveler from another world, used the "strength in numbers" strategy against the orcs.

It was simple. Anyone willing to do hard labor and dig the moat for the kingdom would earn a ticket to board a ship early if they excavated enough earth.

The people went crazy.

Everyone knew that Stormwind City couldn't hold out for long. The longer they stayed, the higher the chances of death. If they hadn't been surrounded on all sides and the sea route being the only way out, the people would have already rioted and fled en masse.

Countless people at the docks tried every possible means, spending all their savings, just for an earlier ticket.

Forget about the nonsense of everyone being equal. The fact is that the more capable and wealthier individuals have a better chance of escaping to safety.

Haven't you seen the nobles easily board the new ships of the Stormwind Kingdom navy at the military harbor and casually flee the desperate Stormwind City?

But now, Duke's policy provided a new hope for these pessimistic people.

As long as they worked hard, they could save themselves and their loved ones earlier.

The conditions weren't harsh. Laborers dug earth under the protection of Stormwind City soldiers on high alert. Digging the equivalent of 20 standard horse carts of soil would earn one ticket. Strong workers, pushing themselves for a day or two, could essentially secure three or four tickets.

In this way, Duke didn't even have to pay wages. Using safety as a bargaining chip, he easily added hundreds of large and small barbicans around the eastern and northern walls of Stormwind City. Then, he built sluice gates, connecting them with the canals inside the city, and created a moat outside the outer city wall.

Although everything looked crude and full of flaws, compared to the original 5-meter-high city wall, it was much better.

Duke looked at Edwin VanCleef, who had deep dark circles under his eyes and had hardly slept 10 hours in total these past few days. Duke smiled warmly, patting VanCleef's shoulder.

"Great job, Edwin."

"Thank you, Master," VanCleef quickly lowered his head.

"I'm leaving today's 'Poseidon' transport ship at the harbor for you and your stonemasons. Pack up your things and go to Southshore first to wait for me."

Upon hearing this, VanCleef's eyes turned red, "Master, I…"

Duke stopped VanCleef from continuing, "It's time for battle, and that's not a stonemason's field. You go first; the refugees of Stormwind Kingdom near Southshore are still waiting for you to build houses for them."

After half a second of hesitation, VanCleef made up his mind, "But I am also a man! I can fight too!"

Duke chuckled, "How many orcs can you take on? If you want to show off in front of Anduin Lothar, you'd better become a professional first."

"I… I…" VanCleef's eyes were red, filled with tears.

"Go, your lovely Vanessa is waiting for you." Duke's words hit the softest part of VanCleef's heart, who was originally a tragic hero who rose up for the stonemasons in history.

VanCleef suddenly kneeled down. "Thank you, my lord!"