Chapter 113: Orc Against Orc, General Against General

Lothar and his soldiers frowned as they watched their pig-like allies. They were even worse than inexperienced farmers with pitchforks. If they didn't know that Duke had brought them as cannon fodder, they would have cursed at them already.

But in just two minutes, the situation changed again.

The orc formation broke down.

After drinking the blood of demons, every green-skinned orc had an extremely wild factor in their bodies. Even though this was just a simulated battle from a chess checkpoint, it reflected this point very realistically.

After a brief confrontation, the guards of Blackhand the Warchief waved their heavy weapons and charged into the murlocs. However, as they were about to slaughter them all, they ran into the arrival of the grey-scaled naga.

The male grey-scaled naga was not a high-level unit, but they relied on their strong muscles and superior weapons, which were not much worse than the orcs. Despite being at a disadvantage, they managed to successfully divert the orcs' attention.

At this time, under Duke's mental control,

Hogger, who had died tragically under Duke's hands before, led his little brothers to charge from the left wing.

Duke suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of joy. Due to the power of the demon, Hogger and his little brothers, who were almost taught Duke a lesson in the past, had grown up to be so robust and burly.

Now, when the system prompted him to input Hogger's soul, Duke was a little worried, not sure if this would result in a junk version of the gnoll without the power of the demon. After all, the original gnoll was less than one meter tall. If they faced the orcs, it would be even more difficult than hitting a mole.

Fortunately, Duke got the enhanced version of Hogger and inputted the enhanced version.

These gnoll, who were more burly than murlocs, relied on their superior agility to successfully entangle over a hundred guards of the Warchief. Even the elite subordinates of Blackhand found it difficult to gain the upper hand for a while.

Lothar and Duke glanced at each other.

As the saying goes, heroes think alike, and they understood that the opportunity had come.

"For glory! Charge!" Lothar waved his sword of kings and launched a charge.

Lions rarely participate in hunting, and most of the hunting tasks for lion packs fall on the lionesses. Few people know that when the usually lazy male lion launches an attack, his momentum is so terrifying.

Lothar's charge was not fast, and no adjective that describes an arrow leaving a bowstring could be used to describe him.

But Lothar's charge gave people an unstoppable feeling, like an avalanche or a flash flood.

The heavy and solid footsteps were powerful and rhythmic. His hair, which had a slight wave, was blown by the wind like a lion's mane, giving people a sense of explosive beauty. He was getting closer and closer.

Lothar could see every single hair on the faces of the reacting orc guards, even the teeth on each gasping mouth were so otherworldly. He could almost smell the foul breath emanating from their mouths.

"Charge!" Lothar leapt forward like a lion, his shield crashing into the middle of the orc guard formation.

In that moment, to the soldiers charging alongside Lothar, their beloved knight seemed like the very embodiment of a war god, a symbol of invincibility. As they followed in his wake, looking at the cloak with the Stormwind kingdom emblem on Lothar's back, they felt as though they were fighting alongside a god of victory.

A surge of adrenaline rushed through their veins, making every corner of their warrior bodies boil with excitement.

In just a brief moment, Lothar had already killed three orc guards.

To outsiders, their counterattack seemed incredibly swift, but to Lothar, it was as if he was watching clowns moving in slow motion.

Stabbing, pulling out his sword, delivering fatal blows, all done almost in the blink of an eye.

Weaker warriors couldn't even see how Lothar was able to cut open an orc's throat with his sword. If Lothar's attacks were difficult to follow, Garona's attacks were even more elusive and swift.

No one could see how Garona struck. They only saw the small, half-orc figure appearing in front of the orcs, always accompanied by several orcs clutching at their vital spots and bleeding profusely from their fingers.

Lothar and Garona, their combination was the most dazzling banner in the eyes of the Stormwind Kingdom soldiers.

No, there was another dazzling banner - Duke!

"Thirty-six Mage Hands appeared out of thin air, with shining Arcane Missiles tearing through the void, pouring down like a storm upon the Orcish Guards who attempted to encircle and annihilate Lothar.

Not only missiles, but also a continuous barrage of lightning.

The frequency of the lightning was so high that it almost made people forget whether Khadgar was using Arcane Missiles or Thunderbolts.

Khadgar's spellcraft was so superb that he even used a dazzling spell shot to shoot down the flame rain that Gul'dan was attempting to shoot at Lothar.

The clash of Arcane, Thunder, and Flame formed a splendid spectacle in the sky above the battlefield.

Khadgar's extremely precise cover made Lothar remember: there is only one chance. Once surrounded, the disadvantaged human side will only be drowned in the raging sea of orcs and face destruction in despair.

Their performance made the elite troops of the Stormwind Kingdom almost forget time and space, subconsciously locking their gaze on the three of them. It wasn't until the first orc warrior who was stunned by Khadgar was hit that they snapped out of it, focusing on this life-and-death battle with all their might.

For some reason, there was a burning passion in the warriors' chests, and they couldn't wait to end this battle with victory, then describe the legendary heroism of these three to their comrades, family, and every existence who cared about the world of Azeroth.

Lothar drew his long sword, and the last Orcish Guard in front of him let out a desperate scream of anger, falling down like a wall. There was no longer any barrier between Lothar and Warchief Blackhand.

On the battlefield, there was suddenly silence.

Another burly Orc, with explosive muscles and reddish-brown skin, appeared.

He raised a huge warhammer and pointed it towards Garona: "Orc to Orc! Will to will! Traitor Garona, your opponent is me - Orgrim Doomhammer!"

Beside him, Gul'dan leaned on his infamous Skull Staff, pointing towards Duke from afar: "Kid, your opponent is me, Gul'dan."

Duke's pupils suddenly shrank, and the breath in his chest seemed to be filled with some kind of excitement. He didn't know how the situation in this chess space would turn out. He only knew that, among this group of people, only he could stand up to Gul'dan.

"Come on!"