Chapter 254: The First Phase

Southshore, an extremely small port town. Its scale couldn't compare to any other port on the continent, let alone Booty Bay or the deepwater ports of the future, such as Stormwind Harbor or Menethil Harbor.

However, under Duke's operation and after the arrival of the Stormwind refugees, it became the busiest port and distribution center for goods throughout the entire northern continent.

From its initial small wooden pier, it transformed into a massive stone pier. No longer just for docking civilian fishing boats, but a large port for both military and commercial use.

Southshore evolved from a place that turned dark at night to one that was bustling from the early morning hours, when the first light of dawn appeared, to the late evening, with the moon rising over the sea, almost never resting. Merchants transported goods from various ports, not only from the northern continent, but even goblins from Booty Bay took the risk to deliver Duke's orders under the temptation of money.

Tens of thousands of people worked tirelessly, not for the wealth of this massive port, but for the survival of hundreds of thousands of refugees and the impending battle.

Late at night, about an hour away from the first light of dawn, the sea in front of Southshore was calm and tranquil, with only the shimmering waves on the dark surface.

If it weren't for the officers beginning their pre-battle mobilization, and if it weren't for the soldiers going to bed early, waking up early, donning their armor, and waiting in the bunkers and trenches on the hill, everyone might think that the upcoming battle was just an illusion that would never come.

The Southshore command post was brightly lit.

Most kings were not accustomed to this late-night lifestyle. For the older kings, Genn, Terenas, and Aiden, the effect was more pronounced. They mostly sipped on invigorating drinks provided by their attendants.

Duke sat in Lothar's former seat, as the supreme commander of this battle.

Cradling his chin with his left hand, Duke uttered two words through the gaps in his teeth: "Ring the bell!"

Windsor was an extremely responsible soldier, so he couldn't miss Duke's command. He waved his hand and shouted, "Send the order, the enemy has arrived. Enter the first phase!"

The crisp and sharp sound of the bell rang beside the command post, and soon, the sound spread rapidly, echoing with more and denser bell sounds surrounding the entire Southshore. The hills to the east and west of Southshore stirred violently, as if the hills were the mythical guardians of the night elves—mountain giants, and the hills came to life.

The voices of officers at various levels came faintly through the wind as they seemed to scold the soldiers who dared to doze off.

"Flares!" Duke said sparingly.

The order was quickly passed down, and soon, a cannon sounded on the eastern hill of Southshore. A dazzling red flare was shot into the sky.

It wasn't until then that the Alliance leaders, holding their telescopes, finally saw countless small shadows emerging on the distant, dark sea surface. They didn't know when they had appeared.

These were smaller than the Kul Tiran warships they were used to seeing at Southshore's port.

Compared to them, these small transport ships were like a pile of leaves scattered on the water.

...

However, these shadowy figures, resembling leaves, grew larger at an astonishing speed within everyone's field of vision. In just a moment, the shapes of ships could be seen.

Mages stationed on the hills on both sides released a large number of [Illuminate] spells. Countless white orbs of light began to rise several dozen meters above the beach, illuminating the entire coastline as if it were daytime.

The Horde's transport ships had arrived. They recklessly charged at full speed, crashing straight into the jagged, rocky eastern coast.

Even from kilometers away, the commanders could see the terrifying tremors of the ship hulls as they crashed into the coast. In a daze, they could almost hear the wooden hulls wailing, the large iron nails struggling, making a teeth-grinding noise as they escaped from the wood.

Innumerable shadows emerged from the ships, and with the help of the light, the human defenders on the shore quickly identified their enemies – orc peons.

Unarmored, wielding crude wooden mallets or primitive stone axes, they charged somewhat foolishly towards the nearby hills under the command of the few orc warriors.

"First Archer Battalion, fire at will! Second Archer Battalion, prepare!"

Using up the stamina of archers to deal with cannon fodder was not an efficient tactic. However, Lordaeron's Highlord Mograine knew that today's protagonists would not be Lordaeron's archers. Besides, according to the unmatched tactician, the deputy commander, the archers would have at least three hours to leisurely rest and recover their stamina after they were exhausted.

As Mograine glanced at the 'VIP seats' on the hilltop, the sound of bowstrings vibrating filled the air.

The arrows were quite accurate, and even if they couldn't hit vital points, they mostly landed on the enemy.

"Not bad," Sylvanas, bored in the VIP seats, commented.

In the human world, her "not bad" would be almost equivalent to a godlike archer level.

The archery skills of these Lordaeron archers were accumulated through countless training sessions. Having trained since they were 18 years old, most of these archers had received over five years of training. The cost of broken arrows alone for each person could amount to hundreds of Azeroth gold coins.

Upon arriving here and learning that ordinary arrows were useless against orc warriors, and that the more powerful spears were the way to go, Mograine had been quite frustrated. Luckily, Duke informed him that archers could still be used against the enemy's cannon fodder...

Regardless of whether this was a waste of resources, at least some of the gold coins had been redeemed on the bodies of the orc peons.

A dozen breaths later, calm returned to the beach. The loud but weak peons quickly fell, riddled with arrows, dead on the coast.

More and more transport ships charged ashore.

The archers began to get busy, their arms growing sore from continuous shooting. Finally, the first wave of peons reached the front of the hill.

Marshal Abidis shouted, "Raise your spears, hold your shields, attack!"

In front of the lower bunkers on the hill, soldiers had been ready and formed a standard defensive line. Although it might not be enough to resist the vast number of Horde warriors, it was more than enough to deal with the peons and give the new recruits some combat experience.

Now, they waited, forming a sturdy shield wall with spears protruding. With no tactics to speak of, the scattered Horde peons charged and slammed into it.

The shield wall remained undamaged, and every peon was impaled and killed. .