Chapter 89: Sense of Crisis

The griffin legion that appeared in front of them didn't look like a defeated army at all.

Despite their numerous injuries, many of them needed the support of their comrades just to walk.

Despite the huge gashes and dents on their armor caused by heavy objects.

Despite carrying the great guilt of the defeat in Redridge Mountains and being accused by countless nobles and civilians of being responsible for the failure of the war.

The people couldn't bring themselves to hurl insults and vulgarities at them as if they were failures.

It was simple, because they returned with cartloads of fearsome orc monsters.

With their huge and fierce heads, even if they were simply pickled in lime, they still exuded an indescribable terror. People could clearly see the orcs' bulging eyes, their sharp fangs that seemed capable of tearing a person's life away with one bite, and the terrifying tooth rings adorning their fangs.

People could also see how huge the orcs' bodies were when they were transported back.

Large numbers of orc battle axes and warhammers were displayed in the market. When even the strongest men couldn't easily wield these extremely heavy weapons, people truly realized that the griffin legion's warriors were fighting against what kind of terrible monsters.

From the initial silence of the streets of Stormwind City to the gradually sparse applause, to the thunderous cheers and applause at the end, the young warriors of the griffin legion experienced the biggest ups and downs of their lives.

"Well done!"

"Great job, griffin legion!"

"You did your best!"

"Without your fighting, the situation might have been worse!"

For the first time in the history of the Kingdom of Stormwind, a large number of people gave flowers and applause to a defeated army.

Suddenly, the first warrior cried.

And then the second, and the third.

Real men don't cry easily.

They were a defeated army, they were losers, but they were also winners.

They failed in tactics and strategy, but they at least overcame their fears and survived the trials of iron and fire….

Anduin Lothar and Bolvar Fordragon walked through the halls of Stormwind Keep, feeling the eyes of the guards upon them. Despite their defeat, the soldiers now saw them as legends.

Before they even entered the council room, they could hear the loud clamor emanating from every crevice and door crack.

Nobles, who used to look down on everyone, even those who spoke too loudly, were now making the most noise, "requesting" that the king send troops to inflict the bloodiest punishment on the evil orcs who had taken over the lands of Stormwind.

The towering double doors opened.

The room fell silent, as if the air had frozen, locking in all the sounds.

Unlike the simple and pure peasants, many nobles saw Lothar more directly - with hatred. They didn't care how hard Lothar had fought or that the Gryphon Legion had lost 60% of its troops. They only knew that Lothar's defeat had turned them from powerful nobles with real power into nobles in name only and were left without a home, like stray dogs.

And these border nobles who had lost their territories were the loudest in front of King Llane.

As Lothar and the others entered, the nobles prepared to jeer. However, King Llane Wrynn expressed his support for Lothar in the most direct way. He left his throne, walked down the stairs excitedly, and gave Lothar a tight hug at the entrance of the council room.

"Damn orcs, I almost lost you forever."

A thousand words could not express the emotions in this one sentence.

There was no "well done," no "you did your best, I don't blame you." King Llane only cared about the safety of his childhood friend.

Lothar patted Llane's back hard, his eyes slightly moist. But he controlled his emotions, "Your Majesty, Anduin Lothar has returned."

He was reminding Llane that this was a public ceremony.

Llane immediately realized his mistake, released Lothar, and loudly said, "Welcome back, my commander. Welcome back, Duke Fordragon."

Faced with the king's public support, even if the nobles wanted to speak out, they had to hold their tongues.

Llane sat down again, "Okay, we've all read the report. As those who personally fought on the front lines and held off these green-skinned monsters, either Lothar or Bolvar, who can tell us how powerful these monsters really are?"

Bolvar saluted first, "No amount of words can describe the ferocity of these monsters. You should all see for yourselves."

With a clap of his hands, the council room doors opened again. With a foul stench, a barbaric, primitive aura swept through the room.

Two guards pushed in a giant wheeled cage, and surrounding the cage were twelve fully-armed royal guards, each holding a shield with a sharp sword at their side.

As soon as they saw the massive and sleeping figure in the cage, the over hundred nobles in the council chamber almost all blinked their eyes fiercely, and some even gasped in fear.

Bolvar continued to speak, "This is the green-skinned monster we battled in the Redridge Mountains. We shall call them 'orcs' for now."

Bolvar raised his hand, and the cage was instantly opened. Six incredibly strong and muscular men stepped forward and grabbed the chains shackling the orc's wrists and ankles, preparing themselves for a fight.

Lothar drew his sword and stood in front of Bolvar, blocking half his body.

Their grand display made Laine and most of the nobles who had never seen orcs before furrow their brows.

Bolvar nodded at the royal court mage guarding Laine, "Master, you may release the orc from its sleep spell."

Laine nodded, and the court mage softly chanted several incantations, which caused the orc to stir.

"Roarrrr!"

Immediately, a roar that sounded like it came from an ancient behemoth erupted, causing several nobles to lose their balance and fall from their chairs.

Without any questions or hesitation, the orc, who had consumed demon blood, immediately attacked the nearest human.

His movements were so swift that even the six strong men were unable to stop him in time. One of the guardsman was even dragged forward by the orc.

The orc was fast, but the royal guards were faster. Almost simultaneously, seven or eight long swords pierced through the orc's body.

Seeing that the orc was no longer moving, the ferocious beast once again demonstrated its savagery to the entire Stormwind Kingdom. With its mouth full of sharp fangs, it bit into the guardsman's shoulder, tearing off a chunk of flesh the size of a fist.

The scene was gruesome, and the smell of blood was overwhelming.

Luckily, the guardsman managed to move his head at the last second; otherwise, the orc would have bitten into his neck.

The orc soon breathed its last breath, leaving only the guardsman's muffled groans and the sickening smell of blood in the massive council chamber.