Chapter 437: Breaking the Siege (Part 2)

Only a few knights, such as Thoras, who were skilled in horsemanship, could dodge the fatal blow in a split second and counterattack.

The cavalry charge knocked down many orcs, but new warriors immediately filled the gaps. The orc troops formed three neat horizontal lines and began to push the Alliance cavalry back, step by step, forcing them towards the lake.

Despite the orc lines being only three layers thin, their individual combat prowess was enough to crush the Alliance cavalry. Even these three lines were not something the Alliance cavalry could break through!

The rear of the orc formation began to stabilize, and the Alliance infantry also faced fierce attacks from the orc central forces, momentarily feeling as if they were stuck in a quagmire.

Once they achieved their objective, half of the remaining orc soldiers continued the siege. They crossed the icy forest and attacked the city walls, quickly exhausting the city's supply of stones, boiling oil, sand, and other defensive materials.

Now the orcs could safely continue to scale the city walls. The orcs, with wicked smiles, climbed over the city walls as much as they could. Most of the orcs were pierced or shot down by elven rangers before they could reach the top of the walls, but some managed to get up and began attacking the defenders.

Arthas had never imagined that the orc's ant-like siege would be so terrifying. They had just extinguished their first wave of attack not long ago, but more orcs surged over.

The bodies of the orcs piled up, providing some cover for those climbing the walls. They stepped on the bodies of their comrades, even using them as shields to block the continuous rain of arrows and occasional magical attacks.

The orc's offensive was terrifying. Every time an orc climbed the city wall, it cost the lives of five to six Lordaeron soldiers to kill it.

The city's defenses became precarious once again.

"We can't go on like this!" Arthas shouted anxiously to Duke, "Commander, if this continues, Lordaeron City will collapse first, we need reinforcements!"

Duke laughed, patting Arthas's blood-stained helmet with an elder's demeanor.

"Your Highness, although I'm not much older than you, in military matters, I am your senior." Duke's smile somehow made him seem complacent. He said arrogantly, "A true king or commander does not defeat the enemy on the battlefield."

"What!?" Arthas was stunned.

"A true commander gathers all the necessary cards for victory before the battle begins. The so-called battle is just a formality."

"Huh!?"

At this moment, Duke was filled with an unparalleled aura of command. The mysterious confidence surrounding him made everyone around him feel as if, with just a point of Duke's finger, even thousands of Horde, even the ferocious army that had destroyed several kingdoms and was known as a nightmare, would be wiped out in an instant.

For a moment, Arthas was stunned.

Newly promoted Ranger Generals Haduron Brightwing and Lor'themar Theron stood still on the spot.

Alleria and Windsor, standing next to Duke, began to breathe heavily.

Everyone was staring at Duke's movements. He proudly raised his left index finger, pointing towards the northeastern horizon.

Following the direction of Duke's finger, a large flag appeared!

Rows of silver-helmeted, silver-armored infantry began to emerge from the horizon, with the sun behind them, making them look like an army from the age of myth.

The raised long spears were like a forest, their tips reflecting the dazzling sunlight.

For some reason, every soldier was reminded of the era when all human clans fought side by side for the first time in history, awakening a distant legend passed down from their ancestors for over 2800 years.

It was an era when all human clans fought side by side.

It was a glorious and dazzling era, where every battle ended with an unbeatable victory.

The only answer was branded in their souls, in the genes of every individual.

What was that answer?

The Arathor Empire!

The greatest human empire!

At this moment, on this battlefield, there was an even greater organization - the Lordaeron Alliance.

One, two... dozens, hundreds... Suddenly, hundreds of Alliance battle flags appeared on the horizon! Judging by the momentum, there were more than a hundred thousand people there.

The soldiers began to speed up, jogging on the battlefield. They held their heads high, their spear tips raised in rows.

A wave of silver appeared on the battlefield. They were surging, even though they were all infantry, they created a terrifying momentum as if thousands of horses were galloping.

These soldiers, clearly with distinct human features.

From a distance, due to the sunlight, their faces were covered with a layer of golden light.

Their faces became blurred, the weapons in their hands shone brightly, each face became divine, they seemed to have become a heroic army from the distant past, fighting for humanity once again.

"It's our people!!"

"It's the brothers of the Gryphon Legion."

"Reinforcements have arrived!"

"Long live the Alliance!"

Every soldier in the bitter battle suddenly erupted with greater strength, a stronger momentum. The morale that had just been suppressed by the Horde rose again, in turn suppressing the Horde.

Orgrim's face lost its reddish-brown color, he knew he had to make a decision.

The siege was not going well, and the Alliance army was attacking from both sides. If he had enough time, he might have been able to encircle and attack, first defeating one or two Alliance divisions in the field.

But now, it was the Horde that was surrounded.

Orgrim's elite, no matter how fierce, were just over thirty thousand. Now the Alliance forces had exceeded the Horde's threshold, and if the battle continued, it was likely to collapse.

Just then, Zuluhed brought Orgrim even worse news.

"Great Chieftain, there are a large number of warships on the lake to the south, flying the banners of Dalaran and Gilneas. They are less than half a day's distance from us."

"Miscalculated." Orgrim's mouth was full of bitterness.

Originally, Orgrim dared to attack Lordaeron City, hoping to take advantage of the time difference. The idea was to capture Lordaeron City before the main force of Lordaeron returned. In Orgrim's plan, the Lordaeron army should return first, followed by Grom's hundred thousand Horde. The Dalaran and Gilneas alliance in the far south should be the last to arrive.

But now, the Alliance had used their existing advantage on Lake Lordamere to assemble ships to send reinforcements to Lordaeron City. In this case, the troops in Lordaeron City would swell to two hundred thousand within a day, and even with Grom's troops, they still wouldn't be able to take it.

After weighing his options, Orgrim finally uttered the most bitter word.

"Retreat—"