Chapter 563: The Blitzkrieg Strategy of Imitation

At this point, what sustained the soldiers of the Scarlet Crusade was their spirit and honor.

The mages from the rear were already retreating. The only ones who could provide support to the main phalanx were the limited number of High Elf rangers.

If nothing changed, this illustrious legion would soon vanish forever.

Only Duke knew how troubling this was. The fall of the Scarlet Crusade meant not only the loss of their past achievements and the prestige of the Mograine family but also the potential deaths of Alexandros Mograine* and Abbendis. If they perished here, the Scarlet Crusade, which would have been prominent in future history, would completely cease to exist on this land.

Indeed, while a legion is merely a military unit, the Scarlet Crusade is a fanatical military organization. Its legacy persisted throughout Azeroth's history, even during the tumultuous decades.

"This won't do! Duke, let our dwarves take the lead!" Magni Bronzebeard, in desperation, shouted.

How many Horde could forty thousand dwarf warriors eliminate in the open field?

Certainly not few, but definitely not many either.

Duke lifted his chin and smirked slyly, "My dear Magni, don't you think this is the perfect time to employ the secret technique I taught you?"

"Could it be...that one?"

"Yes! Exactly that one!"

The Blitzkrieg Secret Technique!

"Oh! Let's toast to the great Stone Mother. I'm glad you finally remembered them." Magni, ever the unconventional character, actually pulled out a slender iron flask from his waist, taking a sip of the stout dwarven ale.

Three red flares soared above Magni's chariot. In the distance, behind the dwarf infantry, the ground vibrated with the rumble of machinery.

"Clink-clank-clank!"

Duke's facial muscles twitched; this sound was worse than the old tractors back in his homeland.

Fine!

Technology drives civilization! So be it.

As the forty thousand dwarf warriors formed a tight formation to resist the orcs, the Dwarven Steam Tank Brigade finally arrived.

"Woo-woo" echoed a whistle, one that made Duke cringe but uplifted the spirits of the dwarves.

Why on earth would a tank need a steam whistle like a train?

Steam tanks, spewing thick black smoke, rumbled into view.

The world was filled with pseudoscience that Duke couldn't fathom. Dwarves lacked industrial foundations, leading to imprecise parts. Yet, somehow, they could handcraft steel that should require advanced modern techniques.

This was evident in the new steam tank, named 'Model Four' under Duke's guidance. Tougher, thicker armor, more powerful drive, and a more massive gun barrel.

Not only did it have the conventional steam tank's massive iron wheels, but at Duke's insistence, it also featured handcrafted tracks by the dwarf artisans. In theory, as long as there's enough power, the Model Four could overcome any terrain. Moreover, Duke explained to the dwarves that if they braked on one side, the tank could turn.

Watching these massive steel behemoths rumble by, Duke felt a surge of pride.

"Perhaps, in collaboration with the dwarves, we could churn out numerous innovations in less than a decade."

However, before he could finish his thought, a steam tank, as tall as a building, toppled over near him.

Just as Duke expected some dwarf mechanics to jump out for repairs, he was stunned to see several sturdy, hairy legs appear beneath the tank.

On a synchronized count of "one, two, three!", the steam tank, its smokestack no longer billowing black smoke, charged forward with a speed matching its brethren.

"...," Duke's face dropped.

"Ha ha ha!" Magni laughed heartily. "We dwarves aren't like those idiotic goblins; we always find a solution."

Fine, once back, Duke would write a note of 'respect' for them in his characteristic wild script.

However, the results were evident.

Sure, the Alliance had many farmers turned soldiers, but the Horde was not much better off. The Bleeding Hollow Clan orcs, who had experienced the Siege of Ironforge, were dwindling. The new Horde recruits, in terms of stature and combat prowess, were noticeably inferior to the veteran soldiers who had faced the Draenei. Most of these young orcs were naïve.

Baron Geddon and the Red Dragon had already startled them, but the sudden arrival of these gigantic iron monsters left them utterly dumbfounded.

"Do not fear! These things are easier to smash than the humans' houses!" A seasoned Bleeding Hollow orc rushed forward with a wooden stake, striking the front of a Model Four steam tank.

"Clang!" echoed a loud noise.

When Duke requested 200mm frontal armor for the tank, the zealous dwarf engineers, due to their imperfect craft, simply layered two 200mm iron plates.

The result of the hefty blow? A minor dent on the tank's front.

Soon after, the orc was impaled.

Indeed, Duke insisted that spikes and rams be affixed to the tank's front armor.

The orc who boasted, thinking the new tank was as fragile as before, paid with his life.

The new Horde recruits were visibly shaken.

The dwarf commander atop the steam tank roared, "Fire!"

The next moment, flames burst from the holes surrounding the tank. Several orcs, attempting to flank the tank, were blown apart by the dwarves' blunderbusses.

Three seconds later, the tank's mounted cannon fired.

Within the massive hemispherical turret was a large-caliber mortar. Duke initially wanted a 3-pounder, but in an era without recoil mechanisms, even a small-caliber gun's recoil could dismantle the tank. Hence, the simpler mortar was chosen.

Indeed, the mortar involved placing a shell in a sturdy barrel filled with gunpowder. Where it landed after firing was anyone's guess.

Even with all its flaws and questionable science, these charging behemoths left the orcs disoriented.