Chapitre 448: Chapter 448: Who Do You Think I Am?
The number was simply indescribable in any orcish language.
On such a vast land, measured in kilometers, the battle line could be connected into a line. Under the guidance of the drumbeat, the human army marched in orderly steps, covering each other, sealing off any possible escape routes for the orcs.
On the southern lake, a large number of warships were speeding towards the shore. Their hulls were parallel to the shore, the wooden boards blocking the gun ports were opened, and they were ready to fire.
"Where did the humans find so many elites!?" Grom couldn't help but exclaim.
After fighting with humans for so long, it was easy to tell which were the elites and which were the farmers.
It had nothing to do with equipment.
Those who stood in a straight line but were crooked were the farmers delivering food to the orcs.
Those who were neat and orderly, whether advancing or retreating, and formed clear formations were mostly elites.
Of course, it also depended on whether their armor was shiny.
For example, the troops of Lordaeron, if they were shiny, Grom wouldn't worry, because those were likely just for show, a ceremonial squad.
Those whose armor was noticeably duller, and even had many spots on their armor and shields, were the veterans that the orcs least wanted to encounter.
At this moment, all he could see were battle-hardened elites!
To the due north, those wearing blood-red armor with white edges were the old opponents, the Scarlet Crusade of Lordaeron, who had fought each other many times.
To the northwest, the ones with the blue and gold griffin flag fluttering above their formation were the Griffin Legion of Stormwind, which Orgrim had mentioned many times.
Due west, those carrying huge brown tower shields, even when marching, were the infantry of Dalaran. The infantry of Dalaran were never the focus, the focus was the mage group hidden behind them. If they couldn't break through the infantry's defense in three minutes, they would be taught a lesson by the magic shot from the rear.
Grom suddenly understood why Orgrim wanted to attack the human camp to the north. He was trying to break a bloody path and rescue their Western Legion!
Grom made the correct decision almost instantly: "All listen to the order! Abandon all siege equipment and turn to attack the red legion to the north."
Correct, does not mean effective.
When Alexandros Mograine, who commanded the army, saw the orcs rushing towards them just as Anduin had calculated, this future legendary lord showed a cold smile: "The sin of destroying Silverpine Forest will be repaid with your lives."
The neatly advancing army stopped at the moment when Alexandros Mograine raised his fist. The soldiers walking at the front used the spikes under their tower shields to deeply fix the shields into the thick grass.
On the battle line, every five meters or so, a passage was left for a group of half-grown peasant boys to run out quickly, pulling the green grass on the battlefield.
In front, a veteran with a burn scar on his face dipped his finger in saliva, raised his hand, and felt the wind direction and speed.
"Good, as expected, it's upwind."
Just before the orc army rushed over, the boys pulled out the grass and quickly retreated.
Then a group of weird-looking guys with a huge iron canister on their back, a half shield on their chest, a large iron pipe on their right waist, and a strange look came out from the battle line.
As soon as these guys appeared, the commanders of the Horde had a bad feeling. When they rushed to the front and saw the 'FFF' characters on the shield connected to the canister on the backs of these guys, everyone knew that the bad premonition had come true.
Fire!
A sea of fire!
Even more convenient flamethrowers, even more concentrated flame jet soldiers.
Hundreds of flamethrowers created a death fire belt, blocking the Horde's only escape route.
The most disgusting part was that the shield connected to the canister on their backs also helped these guys block most of the thrown weapons.
Want to leave?
Sure! But please take a walk through the hellfire first.
Grom almost gritted his teeth, letting the already few Blackrock clan warriors lead the charge.
On the other hand, Orgrim's attack also suffered a heavy setback.
Before the start of the war, for some reason, Gavinrad had a brain fart. He saw Alleria retreat from the army last time and thought it was cool, so he wanted to try it too.
Despite Duke saying no, this guy insisted on courting death. Well, the result was that thousands of Horde chased Gavinrad to hack at him, almost laughing Duke to death.
If this guy wasn't a Paladin who was tough and could be invincible for a short time, Gavinrad would probably be dead.
Watching Gavinrad courting death in front of the northern camp was quite amusing.
Duke looked at Alleria beside him and smirked, "So, with so few people against more than forty thousand Horde elites, are you confident?"
Alleria Windrunner flicked her slender jade finger, her beautiful golden hair fluttering in the wind, and gave Duke a provocative look, "Who do you think I am? I am Alleria Windrunner! The destined female hero to be remembered by the entire Alliance!"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Duke laughed, raising his hands in surrender.
Walking down the camp's simple wooden wall, Duke looked back at Alleria standing on top of the camp gate and her three sisters.
Each of the four sisters had their own merits, and it was already a blessing from a past life for anyone to have one as a servant. Now he had bagged the entire Windrunner family.
Thinking about it, he felt it was exaggerated.
Looking at Alleria's sexy back, Duke suddenly remembered a saying, "Gold will always shine."
Orgrim's army charged.
And then they were hit hard by the High Elf Ranger troops.
"Elven Rangers!" The leading orc commander shouted as soon as he saw the archery posture of the other side, and the orcs immediately used all kinds of methods to protect their vital parts.
After experiencing the Battle of Quel'Thalas, even if they had never faced the Elven Rangers directly, these orcs still knew clearly that these unreasonably accurate Elven Rangers were the nightmare of all orcs.
Whether it was trolls or orcs, they were all races with strong vitality. If they weren't shot in the vital parts, they wouldn't die immediately.
In the early days of Elwynn Forest, like porcupines, orcs who continued to fight with hundreds of arrows stuck in them were everywhere. This indeed easily scared the humans.
Now it was different.
A green light that was almost the same color as the grass flashed by, and the arrow actually hit the shoulder armor of an orc who was charging, then refracted and pierced through the neck of this unlucky guy, and then with the splashing blood, hit another orc's eye socket behind him.
Or for example, a powerful orc swordsman directly knocked away the arrow shooting towards his face with a sword, only to find that the arrow shot out killed an orc companion on his right.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone