Chapter 431: The Princess's Affection

The city was on the brink of falling.

Without reinforcements, a force at full strength could only perform at half its potential, unless they were prepared for a massacre. But with reinforcements, they could perform at 200% of their strength.

And then Duke Marcus arrived.

He really came, leading an army of nearly a thousand gryphons.

Before the gryphons even arrived, Duke Marcus made his move. A series of flashing lights appeared in the sky, forming a long and massive arc from the horizon straight to the eastern gate of Lordaeron City.

At this moment, when Lordaeron City, the heart of the Alliance, was about to fall, Duke Marcus arrived.

"Charge!"

With a thunderous roar, Duke Marcus made his grand entrance.

Water elements in the air began to converge at high speed, and the water in the moat began to rise. In just a few seconds, under the gaze of countless orc and human warriors, Duke Marcus gathered a massive amount of water and poured it into the city gate.

In an instant, the city gate, which had been wide open, was completely blocked by a huge block of ice.

"Orgrim! Did you ask me before you tried to take Lordaeron City?!" His voice, amplified by magic, pierced through the orc formation and reached the distance.

Standing proudly on the city wall, Duke Marcus's mage robe fluttered in the bloody wind. His signature Mage Hand filled the sky above the eastern city gate, countless tri-colored frost, fire, and arcane missiles rained down on every orc's head.

The soldiers of Lordaeron, who were fighting fiercely one moment, were stunned the next to find that their fierce enemies had been blasted away by precise magic.

Suddenly, with the eastern city gate as the center, all orcs within two hundred meters were wiped out.

After a brief moment of shock, the entire city wall erupted in thunderous cheers!

"Long live the Alliance!"

"Long live Duke Marcus!"

"God bless Lordaeron!"

At this time, Prince Arthas, who was retreating to the palace under the desperate protection of the royal guards, suddenly realized that the situation behind him had changed.

At the end of the long street, the city gate was blocked by a huge semi-transparent block of ice. Arthas turned back just in time to see the Horde that had just rushed into the city being instantly killed by magnificent magic.

Countless white Mage Hands rained down magic from the sky. The only one capable of this was the legendary Deputy Commander of the Alliance, Duke Marcus, who had inherited the name of his master, the Hundred-Handed Death God.

Watching the incredibly magnificent magic kills, watching the dwarven gryphon knights circling above the city wall, constantly killing the Horde with their Thunder Hammers, Arthas suddenly felt absurd. If he had known, he wouldn't have run.

The gryphons flew towards the towers near the city wall. When they almost came to a halt, agile elven rangers jumped down from the gryphons and stood on top of the towers, raining arrows down on the city.

The extraordinary archery skills of the elven rangers were fully displayed at this moment. They could shoot arrows with long parabolic trajectories based on feeling alone, extending their range to over two hundred meters with the help of the towers.

The gryphon knights who had returned to the battlefield did not use their usual tactics of having the gryphons dive to kill the orcs. Instead, they dropped a large number of oddly shaped metal objects.

These large bombs produced by goblins had a higher killing power than iron hand grenades. Once the outer shell was broken upon impact, they would explode violently.

The battlefield was instantly filled with roars, and everywhere were corpses and severed limbs blown away by the bomb explosions.

From a distance, Warchief Orgrim, who had witnessed this scene, turned pale once again.

The one who could make the Warchief's brown-red face turn pale time and time again was undoubtedly Duke Marcus.

"Duke Marcus."

To Orgrim, to the entire Horde, this name had almost become a nightmare, no, not a nightmare, it had escalated to the level of a cursed existence.

Time and time again.

Every time the Horde saw hope of total victory, there was always Duke Marcus, or Duke Marcus's creations, blocking the Horde from achieving complete victory. Duke Marcus couldn't possibly be like the legendary gods, leaving his avatars in every corner of the world.

Yet, on every battlefield, there were legends about Duke Marcus.

His strategies, his leadership, his strange but effective mechanical creations, almost every time they firmly restrained the Horde's offensive.

Orgrim couldn't help but wonder if the heavens had specifically sent Duke Marcus to deal with their Horde!

If it weren't for Duke Marcus, the Horde would have conquered half of the world of Azeroth by now.

Meanwhile, on the balcony of the palace tower, the maids who had just screamed were now silent. The royal guards standing by were dumbfounded, each one staring blankly at Princess Calia, who was shouting and laughing on the balcony.

"By the Light! It's Duke Marcus! Oh, my hero! He's come to save me! He's come to save all of Lordaeron City! Duke Marcus! Duke Marcus! Duke Marcus!" She laughed and shouted, the usually gentle and dignified Calia, who was considered a model lady of Lordaeron, was now passionately venting her grievances and fears.

Every young girl has dreams of a prince on a white horse.

The brutal orcs had attacked.

When her father was not around...

When there was not a single minister or general she could rely on...

When her young brother could not stop the enemy's invasion...

When she herself had become pessimistic and desperate, ready to die for her country...

Duke Marcus arrived.

Riding a pure white gryphon.

Beautiful, majestic, full of the flavor of legend, the gryphon.

Just as she had prayed and hoped, Duke Marcus arrived at the most critical moment.

As a savior, he used his supreme magic to save Lordaeron City.

Calia couldn't describe the joy and excitement in her heart. She only knew that the fervent admiration had ignited every cell in her body, she only knew that her soul would forever be branded with Duke Marcus's name.

She kept shouting Duke Marcus's name, like a fanatic worshiping a god, willing to burn her own life for him...

After briefly repelling the Horde, Duke Marcus teleported a few times and suddenly appeared in front of the stunned Prince Arthas.

The guards instinctively took up a combat stance, but relaxed when they saw Duke Marcus's Alliance insignia.

"Are you Prince Arthas Menethil? I am Deputy Commander Duke Marcus of the Alliance."

Arthas wanted to take a good look at this Alliance legend, who seemed a little shorter than him and only a few years older, but he knew the military situation was urgent, so he quickly said, "I am Arthas. Do you have any orders, Deputy Commander?"

"The situation is urgent, I need your authorization to open the eastern magic teleportation array of Lordaeron City, as well as control of all the magic towers in the eastern city area."