Hello, translator here, there is no 306- it just skips to 307. please enjoy.
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A fierce magical battle left all the bystanders dumbfounded.
Even though they had sensed the might of the orc warlock, no one realized that the Alliance's vice-commander was no slouch either.
For a moment, cheers erupted among the Kul Tiras fleet.
Samuro retreated.
The enemy king was quite troublesome. He couldn't kill the king, and the king couldn't get the best of him either. It had to be said that the king's tactics were quite innovative, using tricks like throwing barrels of explosives from their expensive spatial storage bags and igniting them with firearms.
The intense large-scale explosions were indeed a big problem for a high-attack, high-speed Blademaster like Samuro. Samuro was wounded as well.
Since he couldn't succeed, Samuro retreated, having a better target in mind—the Duke who had just used all his strength to bombard Lokam*Sharpfang.
Duke*Markus—recognized by orcs as the number one human foe! All the titles of schemer and sage had been stripped away.
After this battle, Duke's label was only one thing: a powerful adversary.
Just as there are great Marshals above valiant and wise Marshals.
Duke was the human most worthy of being hunted in the eyes of all orcs, like the most brilliant pearl on a crown.
Samuro unhesitatingly left Daelin behind, shooting like an arrow towards the panting, bent-over Duke.
For a moment, Duke thought he might die once again.
At that moment, Daelin made his move.
He slowly slashed with the curved blade in his right hand.
There was no overwhelming blade aura, no earth-shattering power, just like an ordinary ship captain ordering the entire ship to open fire.
For an instant, Duke thought he would hear the grand but ultimately useless sound of cannon fire.
However, it didn't happen.
Instead, behind Samuro's rapidly advancing body, a massive green spectral ship appeared in midair.
A spectral ship!?
In this fantastical world, ghosts were not a rare commodity. Duke even had a ghostly pet named Khadgar in his Karazhan. But this enormous spectral ship, made up entirely of dark, negative energy, had no real physical form.
It was like a pure illusion meant to scare people, speeding out from the void and crashing into Samuro's back, who was also quickly trying to dodge and vanish, making a sound like a balloon bursting before disappearing.
It seemed to have no effect.
Seconds later, Duke was stunned to see Samuro plunge into the sea.
This was the indomitable orc Blademaster hero!
Could he take a kill?
"Mogu...el..." Just as Duke was about to call for the murloc prophet to land the killing blow, he realized Samuro had already been saved by another orc Blademaster, who fled across the water's surface, away from Duke without looking back.
Damn it! My reputation!
Duke didn't know what use the Kul Tiras reputation of adoration and Daelin's full favor would have. Regardless, if there was an opportunity to grind reputation and curry favor with the Alliance, Duke would not mind trying.
The Arcane Energy Storm was indeed a desperate move.
To overload the already powerful arcane circuitry was not a task for the faint-hearted. The chaotic energy was hot and frenzied, and Duke felt a tingling burning sensation all over his body, barely able to move.
No longer able to keep up appearances, Duke could only wait patiently for Kul Tiras to send someone to rescue him.
Duke originally thought he would have to stand on the ice for five minutes, but then a beautiful blonde high elf woman arrived.
Just as she had been, Jaina Proudmoore effortlessly blinked in succession, landing gracefully beside Duke.
"You are... Lady Goldensword?" Duke recognized her as the female mage who often stayed by Daelin's side.
Jaina Goldensword nodded slightly at Duke, "Come!"
Suddenly, Duke could sense the frost elements around him stirring.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!" Theoretically, Jaina was continuously casting Ice Lance, yet Duke felt as though he were riding on an air-cushioned boat. The ice beneath his feet was the boat, and the Ice Lances behind him provided the propulsion.
It was only after mingling with them for so long that Duke realized that high-ranking mages could continuously cast Ice Lance, using it as a fan.
Looking at Jaina, Duke wanted to say, "Here are today's kneepads, please accept them."
Thanks to this Kul Tiran court mage, Duke was able to board Daelin's battered flagship in just three minutes.
Leaning on his scimitar, Admiral Daelin smiled at Duke, "It's been a while since I've exercised my muscles. Thankfully, my skills haven't deteriorated too much. However, that orcish Blademaster was quite formidable. If I were five years older, I might have died for my country."
Jaina Goldensword glared at Daelin.
At that moment, the distant sound of cannon fire reached them, as the ships sent to intercept the orcish transport fleet earlier had engaged in battle.
"Let's go there too. We can discuss anything after this damned battle is over," Daelin's words caught Duke off guard, making it clear that Daelin did not intend to let go of his long-time enemy, the Bloodsail Fleet.
Duke clenched his teeth, "The Alliance won't let any human enemies go. Likewise, the Alliance won't treat anyone who contributes to the Alliance unfairly."
Duke was prepared to defend Duke Fairweather to the death.
"Sigh," Daelin sighed while patting Duke's shoulder, "Duke, I'm not that rigid. With the imminent crisis of human extinction, what do my personal grudges amount to? I just want to say, you don't know Fairweather well enough."
Duke suddenly had an epiphany: the ones who know you best are not your friends and family, but your enemies.
This strange feeling was something Duke couldn't guess, nor did he have the time to.
The Horde's onslaught was once again upon them.
If they didn't want the entire Northern Continent to be submerged by the green tide, they had to use their regained naval advantage to weaken the orcs' numbers as much as possible on the open seas.
Beneath the Baradin Bay, a considerable number of male naga had been stationed to help Duke keep track of the orcish warships.
The numbers they reported back were astonishing.
There were over 25,000 transport ships of various sizes.
At least half of them were decoy ships with no more than ten orcish laborers on board, and no other orcs.
Even so, controlling over 10,000 decoy ships required at least 100,000 laborers.
Only the Horde, who considered lives as cheap as ants, could resort to such inhumane tactics.
As Duke rode Daelin's warship and followed the Kul Tiran First Fleet into the interception battle, startling news arrived— the transport ships that had broken through Baradin Bay hadn't all gone to Southshore; instead, they split into three groups at sea.
Approximately forty percent headed west, presumably to land on the Southern Coast.
Another forty percent headed for Southshore.
The remaining twenty percent resolutely entered the long strait between the Northern and Southern Continents.
Duke shuddered, his worst fears realized— the orcs had divided their forces!
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