Chapter 333: Two Riders Against a Thousand

If one arrow can kill, there's no need for a second.

Rend Blackhand's heart bled for what was happening.

Compared to the coerced Red Dragons, uncertain of their longevity on the battlefield, the Wolf Riders were the core of the Horde's forces. War wolves had been fighting alongside orcs for tens of thousands of years.

They were the orcs' most reliable companions, hunting assistants, and the strongest warriors.

In past battles with humans, once the melee began, the combination of orcs and their wolf mounts could often achieve a kill ratio of 1:5 or even 1:10 against human cavalry.

The Wolf Riders were undoubtedly the pride of the Horde.

Regrettably, wolf mounts were not easy to maintain.

A healthy adult wolf mount could weigh over a ton and stand over three meters tall, with its back two meters off the ground. Consequently, their food consumption was staggering. Feeding one wolf mount could sustain at least forty adult orc warriors from a powerful clan.

Only the most powerful clans, controlling the richest hunting grounds, could afford to keep wolf mounts.

The only human force that could compete with them was the heavy cavalry from Lordaeron, riding the super-giant horses known as the Light of Lordaeron. These horses, also weighing over a ton, looked like a cross between a horse and an elephant. Their heavy steps thundered, and while they couldn't sprint for long, their short bursts of speed could send a wolf mount flying.

Regardless, wolf mounts were the Horde's precious asset.

If it weren't for a pursuit battle, how could Rend bear to send out the Wolf Riders?

Now, they thought they were passing through an abandoned position, who would have expected it to be a charge towards the enemy's position?

Almost at the same instant, Rend wanted to order the Wolf Riders to retreat.

Too late!

The Thandol Span wasn't narrow, but that was from a transportation perspective.

As a battlefield, the Thandol Span was definitely a bottleneck.

The Wolf Riders behind sensed something was wrong and wanted to turn back, but it wasn't that easy.

The next instant, after all the preset arrows were fired, Duke's Mage Hands floated into the air.

The 256 Mage Hands unleashed the most powerful Frostfire Bolts.

Some clans of the Horde had strange resistances, such as the Blackrock clan's Marshal resistance to fire, and the Frostwolf clan's excellent frost resistance.

Not bothering to distinguish between them, Duke directly used the universally applicable Frostfire Bolt. Regardless of your resistance, you, a mere wolf mount, wouldn't have the full spectrum of resistances like a Warlock or Mage, would you?

The Frostfire Bolts, blending the colors of frost white, fire red, and arcane purple, were the most terrifying reapers, harvesting the lives of the Wolf Riders on the narrow bridgehead.

Some were blown apart by huge explosions, scattering hot flesh and blood.

Some were frozen solid by the ice, freezing life itself.

Some were disintegrated by the glow of arcane magic.

No Wolf Rider could escape unscathed.

Almost simultaneously, a strange hum sounded from the northern bridgehead position.

The arrow sounds, but the bowstring does not.

This peculiar technique represented one person's arrival — Ranger Marshal Sylvanas.

With her jade-like white skin and slender figure, the female elf moved at high speed under the cover of the battlements and trenches. She didn't need to maintain an optimal shooting range; any place with good cover could serve as her launching point for deadly arrows.

Unlike her sister's traditional style, Sylvanas's battle method was more practical. After the rapid increase in arrow consumption, she no longer

stuck to using the lightweight wooden arrows unique to Elven Rangers, which were made entirely of wood from the arrowhead to the shaft. Instead, she casually used the iron-headed long arrows commonly used by the Arathi Highlands archers.

These arrows had better armor-piercing capabilities, but they lacked the stealth of the Elven Ranger's wooden arrows, which were nearly silent when fired.

Simply put, to increase intimidation, Sylvanas had the craftsmen of Stromgarde create a batch of simple whistles for her, attached to the arrowheads. Once fired, they would emit a strange hum.

Of course, these little whistles would affect accuracy, but for the Ranger general's archery skills, as long as the target was not more than a hundred meters away, the effect was not significant. After all, they were just used to deal with the rank and file.

"Protect your vitals!" The Wolf Riders screamed as soon as they heard the unique sound of the whistling arrows. They tried to protect their throats with their cleavers as much as possible.

After days of combat, they had already understood that this Elven Ranger was their nightmare.

A dark grey light flashed, and an arrow actually pierced through the broad blade of a Wolf Rider's cleaver, subsequently piercing the unfortunate orc's neck, and with a spray of blood, hit another Wolf Rider's shoulder.

"Thump!" The second Wolf Rider was knocked onto a third one, just as a Frostfire Bolt was about to hit him.

"Pop—" The heads of the two orcs were blown apart. Almost at the same time, the second arrow arrived. It pierced through the eyes of a wolf mount, entering from the left and exiting from the right, then shot into the throat of a second wolf mount.

Three riders, two wolves, killed in an instant.

"Elven hero!"

The Wolf Rider leader gritted his teeth.

Sylvanas had transformed into a high-speed mobile artillery, pouring out a terrifying firepower that seemed low-key but was no less than Duke's. Iron arrows became the scythe of death, harvesting the lives of the orc Wolf Riders.

Two strings per second.

Three arrows per string.

The only thing limiting Sylvanas's firepower was not her own shooting speed, but the shortage of arrows.

However, by the time Sylvanas had emptied all the quivers scattered around the position, it was likely that the morale of the orcs would have collapsed first.

The deadly arrows accompanied by the "whoo-whoo" sound from the human position, like Duke's magical attacks, became the death knell for the orcs.

Even so, at this moment, the Wolf Riders also demonstrated their strength as the core force of the Horde.

Heavy casualties.

No sight of the enemy.

The Wolf Riders still maintained their high morale and charged. They were not afraid of death. Even if they were shot or blown up, their wolf mounts still bravely pounced towards the human position, seeking the traces of the two enemies hiding in the dark.

Suddenly, there was a change in the human position.

Above the void, burly elemental beings were entering the scene.

These legendary burly beings, like phantoms, appeared in mid-air. Space underwent large-scale distortion, and within the distortion, water elemental giants about three meters tall, with bodies and arms but no heads or hands, were materializing one by one.

The unique spell of the Frost Mage, Summon Water Elemental!

The problem was, why did Duke have so many water elementals!?

When Antonidas summoned water elementals to fight against Gul'dan's demon legion, there were only a few dozen.

But Duke?

108!

And they were all elite!