Beating Up Light's Dead Uther (Middle-Lower Part)

In the pitch-black night, Uther, clad in uniquely styled armor, moved with an unusual gait.

This specially crafted armor is a symbol of Uther and comes with the ability of a massive area-of-effect Aura of Courage.

When it shines with golden light on the Battlefield, even the most cowardly and timid soldiers will be filled with confidence, unafraid of sacrifice and death, and bravely engage in a life-or-death struggle with the enemy.

He is a great Lightbringer.

Courage and conviction inspired the Warrior to advance bravely, and in many cases, this was the right thing to do.

But

"This is murder, Uther! Your Aura of Courage will only send your soldiers to their deaths. The Orcs' only strength is their melee combat ability. Other than that, they have poor stamina and are not suitable for high-speed marches. Their ranged attacks are inaccurate, and they don't understand unit coordination. Don't you know how to play to your strengths and avoid your weaknesses? Fool, what you're doing is like sending the Orcs their rations."

The Baron Rivendare's merciless accusations still echo in Uther's ears.

Unfortunately, the Pride Uther would never listen to the mere Baron Rivendare and continued to do as he pleased. This was his belief, his duty, and the reason why he was revered by thousands.

If Baron Rivendare had adopted a strategy of scorched earth tactics and luring the orcs into a trap, or had worn down the Orcs through mobile warfare, who would remember Uther the Lightbringer, and who would care about this aging old man?

Perhaps driven by a tiny bit of selfishness deep in his heart, Uther successfully sent a generation of young people from Lordaeron to the jaws of the Orcs, earning him countless glories and honors.

The glory, bought with the countless young lives of Lordaeron, is marked by the pitiful howls of the Restless Souls and stained with blood.

The Veterans were almost all dead, and the bewildered new recruits were thrown into the Battlefield, their legs trembling, and they faced death under Uther's Aura of Courage.

Generals who have been on the Battlefield know very well that there is a significant difference in physique between humans and Orcs.

The Orcs' explosive power is especially terrifying. Even a top-tier Paladin like Tirion Fordring is only on par with an Orcs Veteran in combat. Ordinary soldiers are simply slaughtered in front of Orcs. This is not an enemy that can be defeated by courage alone.

Privately, some call Uther "the Light's Dead."

At that time, Uther hadn't realized he was wrong, until one day...

Uther was always strange. He shone like a Full Moon on the Battlefield, and his Aura of Courage boosted morale so significantly, yet the heroes among the Orcs, the strongest and bravest Warriors, such as Grom Hellscream and Orgrimmar Doomhammer, never bothered him.

On one occasion, Uther encountered a red-eyed Orcs general on the Battlefield. He was much taller and stronger than the average Orcs, standing out like a crane among chickens among a group of strong Orcs.

When Orcs enters a berserk state, its eyes briefly turn bloodshot and red, but this Orcs can maintain this berserk state indefinitely.

A red-eyed Orcs charged toward Uther, but was stopped by an Orcs Veteran:

"Don't kill him! Without Uther, who will feed us? Ha ha ha, Uther the Light's Dead!"

Uther then realized his mistake, but it was too late.

In that war, humanity was undoubtedly the loser on the Battlefield.

Uther bears a great deal of responsibility.

He is Uther, the despairing, Light's Dead, the Orcs's feeder.

"I was just doing my job again."

Uther often consoled himself by cooperating with the Orcs and watching his people being slaughtered.

Carrying the heavy Earthshaker, Uther the Lightbringer arrived before the Royal Palace of Lordaeron.

He placed the Earthshaker on the ground, and as usual, the earth trembled.

"Terenas."

Uther's loud shouts echoed through the Royal Palace; this time, he wanted the King to come out and greet him personally.

Instead of the old and senile King, Uther saw a strong Orcs carrying an ugly, emerald-green giant axe. The Orcs beckoned to Uther and gave him a mocking, wicked smile.

"Heh heh heh, Uther the Lightbringer, this will be your burial ground. Your poor, lowly soul will wail in agony here, and your pathetic corpse will become the rats' dinner."

Uther suddenly felt a pang of regret, realizing how foolish he had been. The Orcs used this simple taunt to lure human soldiers into melee combat, a fight they were not good at.

"An Orcs? You're one of the Orgrimmar remnants who opposed Thrall, the Savior?"

Uther picked up his warhammer from the ground, ready for battle.

"Heh heh, Thrall is but my defeated foe. I, Leonardo the Tyrant's Axe, will surely replace Thrall and become the new leader of the orcs, leading them to a glorious future. And you, poor paladin Uther, are merely an insignificant stepping stone for my ascent to the summit. Kill you, and my heroic name will resound throughout all orcs."

Robbie was completely immersed in the role, profoundly expressing the eagerness of an Orcs Warrior desperate to make a name for himself.

"So, you're that Holy Light Orcs?" Uther sneered. "Give up your unrealistic fantasies. You have no idea what kind of power Thrall, the Savior Thrall, wields."

"It's just a meager amount of Elemental Power. Do you think my Axe of Tyranny would even notice it?"

Uther's mockery deepened. "Foolish Orcs, you see only the surface. Thrall has gained the approval of the northern gods; he is about to obtain unparalleled power and become the Savior of Azeroth."

The Northern Gods? What are those? Even I, a transmigrator, don't know them?

Something's not right, something's not right, Robbie thought carefully.

Could the so-called Northern Gods be the Lich King Ner'zhul?

During this period, Ner'zhul was tormented by Kil'jaeden until only his soul remained, sealed within a solid Frost, becoming the first Lich King. It is said that he possessed extremely terrifying mental power, capable of summoning all dark souls willing to listen to his voice.

Is it Thrall, not Kel'Thuzad, who is truly being listened to?

Ner'zhul, race, Orcs.

Whether it's equal cooperation or malicious incitement, if it requires granting the other party knowledge and power, even if Ner'zhul's head were trampled by ten thousand Kodos, he would only choose his own kind of Orcs.

A human Archmage of unknown origin—what is that thing? Can you eat it?

"The messengers of the northern gods have descended, and you will only be crushed into dust."

Uther continued to undermine his opponent's confidence with words.

During the Lich King's rise to power, the Orcs used humans as sacrifices to summon Demons from the Burning Legion. Robbie recalled some records that Jaina had defended the Orcs, saying it was only the actions of certain Clans.

The so-called messenger of the gods can only be the Dreadlord of the Burning Legion.

"That's Demons, a foolish Lightbringer!" Robbie roared, his anger barely contained.

"So what? Nobody cares about the process of reaping the rewards; people only care about the result."

"For the Savior, Thrall."

Uther the Orcs Feeder shouted a rallying cry as he raised his warhammer and swung it down at Robbie with all his might.