Chương 567: Chapter 567: The Fateful Duel – Part II
Had Grommash "Grom" Hellscream, who had fought countless battles in Silverpine Forest, been the one facing Anduin at this very moment, he would not have been so presumptuous.
Only true high-order epic weapons could barely withstand a strike from the Quel'Zaram without breaking in two, making Gorehowl merely passable.
Unfortunately for the Horde, even Grom himself was hiding deep within the dense woods of Tirisfal Glades. Neither the Horde nor the Alliance could pinpoint his whereabouts.
No one in the Horde's eastern front was informed of the terrifying combat prowess possessed by Anduin Lothar. During the First War at the Dark Portal, when the Horde was storming the Kingdom of Stormwind, no renowned chieftain had ever confronted Anduin directly.
Rexxar, having never received such intel, paid dearly for his ignorance.
If not for Rexxar's quick reaction, arching his back in a bridge-like maneuver to evade at the last moment, he would have been cleaved in half, despite his robust stature. Instead, the blow left a horrific wound on Rexxar, spanning over a meter in length and thirty centimeters at its deepest point, stretching from his left shoulder, across his chest, to his right abdomen. To the onlooker, Rexxar appeared as if he had been disemboweled and slain.
But for someone like Rexxar, who inherited ogre lineage and possessed chest and abdominal muscles twice as thick as beefsteak, while the wound was grievous and rendered him incapacitated, it wasn't fatal.
"Rexxar!" Orgrim Doomhammer roared in fury. Even as he fell backward, his muscles tensed, and with a counterstrike, he slammed his hammer into the front left leg of Anduin's steed.
The 'Light of Lordaeron' neighed in pain. Realizing that his steed was gravely injured, Anduin swiftly dismounted, giving the horse a pat, signaling it to retreat.
The knights of Stormwind and the ogre guards clashed fiercely, inadvertently leaving Anduin and Orgrim alone in their confrontation.
All other battles seemed to fade from their world. This was a duel reserved for the paramount leaders of both factions. Each brandished their weapon in acknowledgment.
On one side stood Anduin, wielding the Stormwind greatsword, Quel'Zaram, engraved with golden runes. Opposite him was Orgrim, brandishing the black hammer, Doomhammer, forged from the molten lava of a volcano.
With a wordless clash, their sole objective became clear: to vanquish the other, bringing an end to this relentless war.
The battle was destined to be arduous.
Anduin Lothar, a towering and imposing figure, was almost as large as a mid-tier orcish warrior. In contrast, Orgrim was bulkier, more muscular, and younger. While Lothar lagged slightly in age and agility, his vast experience and skill set compensated for these shortcomings.
Orgrim had once wondered how Lothar, despite their vast difference in physical prowess, had defeated the former Warchief, Blackhand. Even with the scheming of Duke, a regular human shouldn't have survived Blackhand's fearsome might.
Now, Orgrim understood.
The initial aggressor was Orgrim, his massive hammer producing a chilling screech with each swing. Any foe with a weaker resolve would falter at this sound, and the cost would be their life.
But Lothar didn't block. Instead, he sidestepped gracefully to the left, evading the hammer by mere inches, the flames licking perilously close to his flowing hair.
Anduin, having dodged the attack, sprang forward, his blade following the trajectory of the missed hammer, aiming covertly for Orgrim's exposed ribs.
Orgrim, however, was quick to respond, swinging his hammer in defense. But Lothar had anticipated this and sidestepped again, evading Orgrim's counter.
The two momentarily separated, both panting heavily from their exertions.
"You're injured," Lothar remarked, attempting to shake Orgrim's confidence.
"If you think wounding me will satisfy you, even if you tried a hundred times more, the one to fall will still be you," retorted Orgrim, unfazed.
With a smirk, Lothar charged again. This time, wielding Quel'Zaram in a simple thrust, an unexpected move.
Surprisingly, Orgrim countered using the top of his hammer.
Both weapons clashed, generating sparks. Lothar remembered Duke's cryptic words, "What if Warchief Orgrim Doomhammer truly had the Horde's best interests at heart?" He pondered the meaning behind those words as he continued to battle the mighty Warchief.
Duke, recognized as the most learned, wise, and esteemed tactician in the Alliance, had amassed an unparalleled trove of knowledge from ancient tomes.
His foresight was unmatched, and he never acted without purpose. Even his most seemingly nonsensical actions had eventually proven to be impeccable in judgment and foresight.
Lothar valued Duke's words.
Thus, the fight raged on, with both leaders determined to end it once and for all.
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