Chapter 569: "Yo!"

The sudden shift in the situation left every spectator dumbfounded.

What on Azeroth was that?

At the moment when the divine sword Quel'Zaram shattered, Anduin Lothar had already prepared himself for death in battle.

He wasn't oblivious to Duke's warnings, but he never expected that Quel'Zaram, even when not at full strength, would be impeccable. Yet it failed him at the most critical moment, when he gave it his all. One could say that he was betrayed by the sword or that he never truly believed Orgrim Doomhammer was recognized by the sword as a noble-hearted person.

Lothar wasn't one to wallow in self-pity. Nor did he harbor resentment towards Rexxar, who suddenly grabbed his foot. The battlefield is no place for honor duels. Here, whether outnumbered or overwhelming, all tactics are valid. Surviving amidst the chaos requires not just strength but also luck.

For a moment, Lothar believed his luck had run out.

How could he have known that the armor gifted by Duke possessed such magical properties?

Most enchanted armors offer simple Arrow Protection or, at best, a Mid-level Magical Shield that absorbs a specific amount of magical damage.

Although Lothar recognized the magic emanating from his armor, he couldn't identify its peculiar nature.

It was indeed peculiar.

No conventional magic would manifest as a metallic fist to punch someone, let alone shout "Ora Ora Ora Ora Ora Ora" during the attack.

Magical fists emerging from Lothar's chestplate rained down on the airborne Orgrim Doomhammer. Without any leverage or room to dodge, Doomhammer was left battered and bruised.

The blows, though not fatal, left Orgrim grimacing in pain. He desperately shielded his face to prevent his tusks from breaking and covered his wound to avoid further injury.

After what seemed like an endless assault, but was in fact only eighty-one blows, the illusory fists disappeared.

Orgrim was sent flying ten meters away.

He wasn't one to surrender easily. Without hesitation, he executed another leaping slash powerful enough to split rocks.

Even though Lothar had managed to kick Rexxar away and draw his backup sword, Orgrim instantly recognized the vast disparity between it and Quel'Zaram.

Just one more blow!

He would be able to claim the life of the Alliance's leader on the battlefield!

The Alliance's morale would crumble, their fragile human soldiers would flee in tears, and the Horde could turn the tide!

Such were Orgrim's thoughts as he lunged. However, his focus was abruptly shattered.

He stared, horrified, at the arrow piercing through half the battlefield, heading straight for him.

"This can't be!" His victorious grin turned into a scream of terror. Mid-air, Orgrim tried to dodge the arrow coming from his left, only to realize it changed direction in flight.

He refused to give up on his attack, swinging his left arm in a desperate attempt to deflect the arrow, even if it meant a gruesome wound.

Time seemed to stand still.

To Orgrim's horror, it wasn't one arrow, but three.

The initial green arrow was followed by a thunderous steel-tipped bolt and a swift wind arrow, almost invisible in the gust.

Orgrim was trapped.

In the nick of time, Kargath Bladefist, the chieftain of the Shattered Hand clan, charged forward, his saw-blade prosthetic arm ready. But it was in vain.

The arrows dodged Kargath's defense and continued their deadly trajectory.

The wind arrow struck Orgrim's left lung, the thunderous bolt pierced through his shoulder, and the green arrow embedded itself in his calf.

With a scream, Orgrim crashed to the ground.

Struggling to rise, he pressed his hand against his abdomen, the site of his gravest injury. As blood gushed, he tried lifting his hammer once more.

He couldn't.

The trio of arrows had done more damage than all of Lothar's previous attacks.

And then, three more arrows struck. Kargath managed to block two, but the force of the thunderous bolt sent Orgrim flying.

It was only then that Lothar looked to his left.

Atop a tank, 100 meters away, surrounded by three breathtakingly beautiful high elven rangers, sat Duke.

With a radiant smile, Duke waved at Lothar: "Yo!"