Chapter 554: The Dawn of the Orcs

The green tide of orc warriors swiftly blanketed the darkened ground.

While the soldiers of Lordaeron standing at the frontline bore stoic faces, seemingly devoid of mortal emotions — cold, indifferent, and composed — the sheen of their palms, slick with cold sweat, betrayed their anxiety.

"Hold the line! Hold! We can withstand them!" The hollow cries of the frontline commanders did little to boost the spirits of their troops. The soldiers clung to a single belief: as long as their spear and shield formations held, they were safe.

"Throw the axes!" commanded Warchief Orgrim.

Whistling through the air, the thrown axes wreaked havoc within the tight ranks of human spearmen. The meticulously arranged human shield wall, within moments, was riddled with gaps, much like a sandcastle eroded by the tide. Before they could regroup, thousands of orcs, in an erratic yet effective charge, crashed into the Lordaeron forces.

As the fierce orcs clashed with the panicked human soldiers, a cacophony of screams, cries of agony, and the sounds of metal clashing echoed across the battlefield, dominating all other noises.

To Mograine's frustration, his once-impenetrable shield wall crumbled rapidly, like dominos. The green tide of the orcs seemed unstoppable. Their charge was not only powerful but eerily efficient, bypassing the defenses and trampling over any humans unfortunate enough to be in their path.

Mograine realized his tactical error. The Alliance, from top to bottom, had grown complacent, underestimating the Horde and viewing them as mere lambs to the slaughter.

Yet, the situation was salvageable. Losing the vanguard was not the end.

"Call in the magical bombardment! Deploy the FFF Battalion to the front! We need to break the spearhead of the orcish forces!" Mograine's orders echoed through the magical communication network.

"No! Mograine! Those ogres have been empowered by the Storm Altar! Magic won't work well against them!" Duke Marcus, a renowned mage, interjected.

Suddenly, King Terenas's voice emerged, "Duke, silence! It was agreed that Mograine would command the vanguard and central forces during our meeting."

Clearly, even King Terenas was growing desperate.

"Idiots. Trusting a knight with matters of magic over a mage," grumbled Magni Bronzebeard.

Duke Marcus sighed, "No, Terenas is just too obsessed with becoming a legendary leader, like Emperor Thoradin."

After a moment of reflection, Magni remarked, "Duke, what do you say about forming an alliance in the Southern Continent?"

Duke Marcus chuckled, "No need for that. But I wouldn't mind constructing an underground railway between Stormwind and Ironforge. That way, we'd never have to fear a siege again."

"Brilliant idea!" Magni's eyes lit up, considering the benefits of such a connection.

The battle raged on. To the shock of the human forces, the Blackrock orcs, known for their innate resistance to fire, charged through the flames unharmed, their bodies engulfed, looking like terrifying fire elementals. The magical barrage, intended to stem the orcish advance, seemed utterly ineffective against these flame-wreathed warriors.

"Ah! Monsters!"

"We can't beat them! We can't defeat these Fire Orcs!"

One by one, soldiers abandoned their posts, only to realize, to their horror, that their commanders had fled even before they had.

The central forces of the Alliance were beginning to crumble.

Rexxar, brandishing his dual axes and accompanied by his loyal beast companion, reveled in the chaos. Watching the disintegrating Alliance lines, he felt as though his heart pulsed with the blood of victory. Looking towards Zuluhed, standing not far from him, he saw the same fervor reflected in the shaman's eyes.

Perhaps the orcs truly stood on the brink of victory.