Chapter 521: Victory!

No orc understood how Duke had become so formidable in an instant.

In Duke's ascent to prominence within the Horde, there had been no significant figure who had faced him head-on and lived to tell the tale.

Orgrim's last interaction with Duke was during the siege of Stormwind, a direct confrontation within the fortress.

Back then, Duke had seemed beatable to Orgrim, given a little more time. He certainly didn't appear as an insurmountable force like now.

Even after being hit twice, Orgrim could not resist the arcane power of Duke's full-blown strike.

The multiple layers of force converged, immediately exploding upon contact with Orgrim's punch. This sent a disintegrating sensation throughout his body, making him feel as though he would crumble to dust any second.

While the battle-hardened Orgrim instinctively felt he wouldn't perish from this blow, the failure of not overpowering even a seemingly frail adversary like Duke weighed heavily on his pride.

In that split second, he recognized the orcs that shielded him: Kashdrarak of the Blackscar clan and Rexxar, the renowned half-orc, half-ogre. Their larger-than-life statures were a testament to their lineage.

In the end, these two heroes used their bodies to protect their Warchief.

"Have I become so weak that I need protection?" Orgrim pondered in his heart, a chilling realization.

Then, a blinding pain surged through him, and his vision went dark.

"Warchief!" Every orc, every chieftain cried out in unison.

What is a leader?

A leader is the backbone, the soul of a group.

Regardless of the reason, to both the Alliance and the Horde, it looked as though Duke had taken down Orgrim in one move.

No matter the truth, they cheered.

"Orgrim is down!"

"For the Alliance!"

"Forwards!"

Compared to the Horde, whose morale was at rock bottom, the Alliance seemed to have been invigorated tenfold, especially the seemingly superhuman paladins who were now even more radiant.

Indeed, the paladins had broken through their limits on the battlefield.

Despite their numerical and qualitative advantage, the Horde was being carved up by the Alliance.

And in this crucial moment, Orgrim was unconscious.

Without their Warchief, and with Zuluhed the Whacked, the Dragonmaw chieftain, in the air, and Sabek, the second-in-command of the Blackrock clan, on the front lines, the Horde's lack of unified command was critically exposed.

Cargas Bladefist, with his bloodthirsty tendencies, ordered a fight to the death, while the more strategic Kilrogg Deadeye called for a retreat. These conflicting commands plunged the Horde into chaos.

If only Orgrim had broken through the Iron Gate's defense earlier. If only he hadn't impulsively thrown the Doomhammer. Alas, there were no "ifs."

"Duke Marcus, forever!" was the triumphant cry. Duke, though rejuvenated by the Mage of the Morning Star's magic, was exhausted. After being cursed by Gul'dan, he hadn't slept peacefully for days. The looming shadow of death had haunted him until Alexstrasza's restored power broke the curse, halting the rapid decline of his life force.

After ensuring the Alliance's victory, Duke felt his knees buckle. Vereesa, standing by his side, quickly supported him.

"Duke?! Are you okay?"

"Just a bit spent after that full-force attack," he replied.

Reacting instinctively, Vereesa held Duke close, allowing him to lean on her. As she held him, Vereesa's vision blurred, mixing images of past and present, reminiscent of the legendary war 2,800 years prior when humans and high elves united against the trolls.

It was a war where two races forged an alliance against the shadow of death.

Back then, they had won everything.

Now, 2,800 years later, the descendants of elves and human heroes returned to this battlefield, fighting for the sanctity of their bond.

And today, the man leading the charge, leaning against her, was Duke.

A seemingly fragile man who continuously worked wonders.

A man who had protected her, saved her life.

Vereesa raised her bow high, shouting, "Long live Duke!"

Unlike the bond between Alleria and Duke, Vereesa's relationship with him wasn't wrapped in the threads of destiny. If there was a way to describe their bond, it would be 'ardent admiration,' a fervent emotion forged in the crucible of life and death trials.

Facing Vereesa's intense gaze, Duke felt a bit taken aback, then chuckled, "I can't help but feel I'm being a bit unfair to Alleria."

Vereesa retorted confidently, "Hmph! High elves don't mind polygamy or polyandry. I refuse to believe Alleria wouldn't share you with me."

"Well, if, just if..."

"No ifs. Even if there was such an 'if,' I'd fight Alleria for you. Why shouldn't a woman fight for a good man? Quietly stepping back and wishing happiness for the other isn't my style."

With that, Vereesa leaned in and resuscitated Duke with a passionate kiss.