Chapter 449: Time to Lose Weight

There was no momentum of locusts sweeping across the field.

There was no intensity of a sudden storm.

It was the silent arrows that caused a large number of orcs to fall without a sound, creating a terrifying atmosphere.

Defense seemed to have lost its meaning, as if everything could be ended with a single arrow. The charging orcs were provoked into a frenzy. They roared, shouting various orcish slogans, and madly rushed towards the wooden camp wall.

Right!

As long as they could break through that thin wooden wall and drag the enemy into close combat, those slender elves would be no match for the orcs. This had been verified in the two great wars of Quel'Thalas.

It should have been like this, but suddenly, a few orcs at the front seemed to step on something. Suddenly, a flash of lightning erupted under their feet.

"Ah ah ah—" The twisted current lingering around those orcs was clearly visible.

These orcs turned into a pile of charcoal in a matter of moments.

Mage?

Orgrim, who saw this scene from a distance, twitched his face. This reminded him of Gul'dan. If Gul'dan hadn't betrayed them, why would the Horde have to exhaust the enemy's mana with a human sea tactic like the trolls did to the elves?

Standing on the highest command tower in the camp, which was as high as five stories, Silvermoon Councilor Marian teased the orcs, "I bet those simple-minded greenskins will think it's our mages who are doing it."

Duke kept a proper distance from this female elf with a deadly weapon hidden in her chest. He smiled lightly, "Don't worry, there will be a chance for you to take action."

"That's good, serving Lord Marcus is our wish."

With just a glass of champagne missing, Duke almost thought Marian was chatting with him at a cocktail party. That casual attitude, that robe that revealed just the right amount, could make any hormone-overloaded beast salivate.

Uh, luckily I've recently settled things with Alleria.

Duke took his eyes off Marian.

Then, he saw a group of bewildered orcs.

Electrocuted! Roasted! Blown up! Frozen to death! Shot dead by arcane missiles! Stabbed to death by suddenly shot spikes!

All sorts of things.

The power wasn't great, but it was enough to be fatal.

Orgrim, who was commanding from behind, was getting goosebumps. If humans used pure weapons, like fire, he could use the Blackrock clan warriors to charge hard. Like frost, he could pull in the Frost Trolls to resist.

But unless they were those warlocks with demon hounds, no orc would have such high magic resistance to resist the endless attacks.

Fortunately, some smart orc commanders saw the way.

"Watch your feet!"

Even if those things were disguised, they still revealed their true nature, a bunch of round things covered with grass and dirt. As soon as an orc stepped on it, it would trigger immediately.

No matter what equipment, what clan, once stepped on, if not dead, then crippled.

Okay, the problem is, to pay attention to the feet, the charge will inevitably not be fast, and there's less energy to defend against the arrows from the camp wall. To pay attention to the arrows, they forget about their feet.

The orc's furious charge, which seemed like it could drown everything in the world, slowed down for a moment.

"Hahaha! It reminds me of the first time I shot a wild rabbit when I was a kid." Sylvanas was shooting arrows and laughing. Because the difficulty of aiming had decreased, she could play with triple arrows without any restrictions.

Anyway, the entire wooden wall was full of quivers filled with arrows. You should know that the armaments of the people of Lordaeron are the richest in the entire continent.

"Second sister! Want to have a competition?"

"Let's compete!"

The serious battlefield was turned into a hunting game by a few unrestrained Windrunners.

After sacrificing more than four thousand elite troops, the Horde finally approached the camp's wall. They wildly swung their heavy hammers, easily smashing the antlers and the camp wall into pieces.

The Elven Rangers jumped down from the not-so-high wooden wall.

Unexpectedly, the rangers didn't go far, they stood on the open ground behind the wooden wall, at a distance that seemed unsuitable for archery to outsiders, and continued to shoot arrows.

"Kill these long-eared ones!" The orc commanders roared.

Something unexpected happened again.

The Elven Rangers fought and retreated, and the orcs, in order to avoid traps, often chose to step on the places where the elves had just stepped.

Damn it!

Why is it that the elves clearly stepped on it and nothing happened, but the orcs got hit when they stepped on it?

Electrocuted! Blown up! Killed sideways!

The orcs found out that between the first wall and the second wall, the traps on the ground were more dense. The density was so high that there was almost nowhere to step. But those elves could fly over it.

Not to mention the Elven Rangers fighting below, even Marian on the command tower was stunned.

"Clever little thing, I see, you let your mages and magic apprentices store magic in the traps in the form of sealing magic scrolls, but I can't figure out why our people are fine when they step on it, but the orcs get hit." Marian sighed in admiration.

Right!

The "Life-Taker 3000 Type A" is essentially a trigger-type landmine that stores magic.

It was Duke's group of follower mages who worked countless all-nighters to make it.

Duke smiled mysteriously, "Want to know this secret?"

"Of course!"

"Promise to help me fight the war of restoration for Stormwind, and I'll tell you."

"The participation of a Silvermoon Councilor in the war must be approved by the Council." Marian's beautiful eyes turned, throwing Duke a knowing look.

"Then may I ask, if we open the first floor of the Karazhan library, can we invite Miss Marian to grace us with her presence?"

"That's more like it."

"Alright, the answer is weight. Without the weight of four high elves, those little things won't be triggered at all."

Marian laughed in surprise, "Is it that simple?"

"Just that simple."

The physique of the orcs is more robust than any race in the current Alliance. Being tall and big naturally increases the weight. If a human weighs 150 kilograms, that's already a very tall and robust giant. But this weight on the orc side is only equivalent to an ordinary warrior of a third-rate clan.

For example, the strong warriors of the Blackrock clan, who are Marshally over two meters thirty tall and weigh over two hundred kilograms. If it's the personal guard of the chieftain, their height and weight are even more exaggerated.

The ogres are even more outrageous.

What Duke took advantage of was this. When he designed it, he added a thick piece of iron to the 'button' of the landmine. Without a weight of around two hundred kilograms, it's impossible to crush the iron and trigger the landmine.

This is why the "Life-Taker 3000" has almost no effect on the Elven Rangers, but it's a death sentence for the orcs who step on it.