Chapter 250: Blood of the Orcs

On November 18th, the legendary Battle of Southshore, officially known as the Battle of Hillsbrad Foothills, erupted.

Unlike previous battles between humans and orcs where humans lost every open field battle and were forced to engage in passive defensive warfare, this time, they successfully lured their enemy into a trap, entering the carefully chosen battlefield of Southshore. Each Alliance Marshal was filled with an extraordinary sense of excitement.

The intelligence had come in.

The Horde's massive army had assembled and boarded their ships, heading straight for Southshore.

There was no deception here.

Duke's naga could not possibly guard the hundreds of kilometers of coastline without any flaws, it was beyond the capabilities of any method at this time.

The army's movements could not be hidden. As soon as a large number of ships were pushed into the sea from the beach, the Alliance Marshals knew the great battle was approaching.

One day later, the orcs would arrive!

Duke slapped his palm on the massive map in the command center and announced loudly:

"The name of this operation is 'Blood of the Orcs'!"

Blood of the Orcs? A straightforward name.

The prideful soldiers from the seven kingdoms, as if enchanted, murmured the name to themselves.

Soon, an indescribable shudder spread through their bodies, resonating with their armor and the long swords in their scabbards, shaking them to the core of their spirits. These battle-hardened warriors felt a strange sensation, as if a magnificent vision appeared before them: a battlefield scorched by flames, littered with countless green-skinned corpses. Each one twisted and cruel in death, their unwilling souls could only continue to unleash their rage in the desperate hell with their roars.

Once Duke uttered the name 'Blood of the Orcs,' the Marshals couldn't think of any better name for the operation.

Even though this wasn't the final showdown between the Alliance and the Horde, shedding the enemy's blood was still an exhilarating task.

No! They even felt that the success of the operation was inevitable due to the birth of this name.

Of course, this was only a momentary illusion.

Not to mention the Stormwind army, which had experienced the Siege of Stormwind City, the Alliance Marshals who had seen the corpses of orc laborers with the physique of the strongest human soldiers knew that the journey ahead would be extremely difficult.

There were no easy victories. Even in such advantageous circumstances, they had to endure life-and-death hardships to achieve victory.

Their expressions quickly shifted from excitement to solemnity.

Yet, undeniably, as warriors who were useless in times of peace, hearing such a name for an operation in this suddenly chaotic world inevitably stirred up the unyielding passion within them.

Their sharp eyes still radiated excitement. What excited them most was taking the first step towards a strategic victory before gaining an advantage in tactics.

This was a monumental achievement made by a seemingly 19-year-old but actually 15-year-old prodigy vice-commander.

In a way, they were standing on the shoulders of a giant.

"Please let my Mountain Hawk Knights of Hath take the vanguard!"

"Don't joke around, this is a defensive battle. Are your knights going to charge into the sea?"

"Let my Stromgarde Mountain Infantry take care of it."

Each Marshal passionately recommended themselves to Duke.

Normally, it should be Lothar, the supreme commander, who arranged the troops. However, Lothar temporarily handed over the command of the army to Duke, arguing that "no one understands the Southshore defense line better than Duke himself."

Duke didn't hesitate!

He knew this could be the turning point between the Alliance and the Horde.

Each participating legion might gain eternal glory through this battle.

Duke was extremely cautious. As a time traveler, he was well aware that the Horde must have some cards up their sleeve. Even though the Horde had changed a lot, those cards from 'history' probably wouldn't be missed.

"First, Admiral Proudmoore," Duke called out the military rank directly.

"Present," King Daelin Proudmoore stood at attention, a rarity.

"All fleets, except the Fourth Fleet patrolling the western waters, will form a pocket formation in the waters off Southshore. All light transport ships will be brought over, and at least 60% of the ironclad large transport ships must be sent over before receiving a signal. Once the signal is received, they will exterminate at all costs."

"No problem," Admiral Daelin responded confidently.

Duke turned his head, swept his gaze across the Alliance army Marshals from left to right, and finally landed on the faces of Marshal Mograine and Marshal Abbendis.

"Marshals Mograine and Abbendis, can I trust your Scarlet Crusade?"

"The Scarlet Crusade will fight to the death!" Mograine roared with dominance.

On this face that seemed much younger, Duke seemed to see the future image of Mograine wielding the Ashbringer, a mighty artifact, to slay enemies.

Duke drew a line on the map: "From the western hills of Southshore, five kilometers westward, it'll all be your legion's territory. I demand you to defend the hills firmly, and without signal, countercharge is forbidden."

"Understood."

In this era, the concept of a legion is quite broad. A smaller legion might only have five or six thousand soldiers. Larger ones, like Mograine's Scarlet Crusade, have close to 30,000 soldiers.

The present Scarlet Crusade is far from the madness and distortion of later years. With excellent discipline and high morale, they are undoubtedly the essence of Lordaeron's army!

As Duke dispatched them as the main defense force, King Terenas, who had been silent all along, also had a proud expression on his face.

Next, Duke turned his gaze to King Llane.

"Marshal Llane Wrynn." Duke felt strange, but to maintain the Alliance's military system, it had to be done.

"Present!" Llane, clad in golden armor, was also eager to prove himself.

"You and Marshal Stoutmantle will lead the Gryphon Legion and Stormwind's First and Second Infantry to guard the eastern hills of the town, all the way to the eastern coast."

"Understood." To tell the truth, Llane was somewhat disappointed. It seemed that he and Mograine were the same, just on opposite sides of Southshore. In fact, Stormwind had a geographical advantage. There was a rather turbulent river to the east of Southshore, and launching an attack from the mountains would be akin to having an extra moat.

Llane knew that Duke was both letting him attack and preserving Stormwind's vitality. Considering the overall situation, this was the most secure arrangement. Llane didn't say anything.

"Marshal Lothar, you will lead all the cavalry and be prepared to charge along the designated route, driving all the enemies who enter the town into the sea to feed the fish."

"No problem," Lothar was also excited.