Gordo Nazgrim Charge ahead on his enormous Frostwolf Clan. As the younger brother of General Nazgrim, who died in Orgrimmar for the honor of the Horde, he possessed a physique even stronger than his brother.
An Orcs Warrior engages in a heated one-on-one duel with his opponent?
That's impossible unless one's side is at a significant disadvantage.
Even though Cairne Bloodhoof was wounded in several places and his stamina was nearly exhausted, Goldor remained vigilant.
He broke away from the main force and, together with four loyal Frostwolf Cavalry, charged towards Cairne, hoping to claim the glory of killing the Tauren Chieftain for himself.
Cairne took a deep breath, showing no fear as he faced the five approaching wolf riders. His blood-red bull eyes glared as his powerful hooves slammed into the ground.
War Stomp.
The Tauren Chieftain's War Stomp was terrifying. After a loud bang, the ground cracked open like a spiderweb, and the five Frostwolf Clan almost simultaneously groaned, spitting blood and collapsing to the ground.
The Orcs were all too familiar with the Tauren's War Stomp; they dismounted the moment the stomp War Stomp.
Thanks to the Orcs' exceptional physical abilities, they were able to maintain their footing even while running at high Frostwolf Clan.
Immediately, Gerdor and his four personal guards began a new Charge, wisely taking a slight step back to ensure he wouldn't be hit by the first wave of attacks.
As it turned out, Gerdor's choice was correct.
The first Orcs to rush to Cairne's side had just swung his Battle Axe when Cairne's massive bull head suddenly appeared in front of him, and at the same time, his thick right arm stretched out and tightly gripped his throat.
"The Tauren Chieftain is so fast!" Then everything went black before his eyes.
Cairne twisted his neck with a slight effort, then bit down on his waist, tearing off large chunks of flesh and chewing them forcefully. Blood dripped from his face, revealing a hideous and grotesque smile, making him look like Demons.
Gerdo was shocked to see this. He knew very well that these personal guards were handpicked and were almost as strong as him, yet they couldn't even withstand a single blow.
Gerdo remained calm and slowed his pace imperceptibly.
A true hero relies not only on their formidable strength, but more importantly on their ability to clearly understand the situation on the Battlefield and make the right decisions in those fleeting moments.
One of Gerd's bodyguards lacked this awareness. Seeing Cairne carrying his comrade's body, he thought it was a perfect opportunity and attacked from the side blind spot. His comrade's body blocked Cairne's view.
With a soft "poof".
The sound of an axe slicing into flesh filled the air, blood splattering everywhere. The guard was overjoyed; he had succeeded. His Battle Axe had struck Cairne's ribs, but unfortunately, the bone blocked the blow.
The Tauren Chieftain was so tall that otherwise his target would have been his neck.
Cairne seemed to feel no pain and, without the slightest hesitation, thrust out his Runed Spear with his right hand.
Before the guard could retract his axe, he felt a chill on his chest as the blood-stained Runed Spear pierced his heart.
"It's too fast, there's no way to dodge it." That was his last thought.
Ah!
With the instant death of his two comrades, one of Gerdor's personal guards, unable to bear the fear in his heart, went into a berserk state. His eyes turned bloodshot, and as if he had gone mad, he swung his Battle Axe wildly, hacking at Cairne indiscriminately.
The raging Orcs caused Cairne some trouble, forcing him to retreat and adjust his footing, using the Orcs's corpse in his left hand as a shield while continuously thrusting out his Runed Spear.
The Runed Spear, as sharp and powerful as a venomous snake, quickly pierced the berserk Orcs's body, leaving several bloody holes, yet the orc continued to strike despite the pain.
Cairne frowned; he had already noticed Goldo approaching stealthily, a Runed Spear swirling around him, protecting his entire body.
The berserk Orcs' relentless attack had some effect, leaving several wounds on Cairne, but he was soon pierced through the heart by the Runed Spear, collapsing with fragments of his internal organs spitting out.
At this moment, Gerd finally found Cairne's weakness. The Battle Axe left a horrific wound on Cairne's neck. Amidst the churning flesh, countless blood-red nematodes swarmed, a truly terrifying sight.
The deaths of his three bodyguards taught him a lesson, and he immediately distanced himself from them.
A true Orcs Warrior is one who can remain calm on the Battlefield, rather than act impulsively.
Cairne stared wide-eyed at the cunning Orcs. The distance between them was almost enough for him to close in a single step, but unfortunately, the last guard also went berserk, forcing Cairne to turn and deal with the situation.
Gardor quickly withdrew from the Battlefield, but another group of Orcs wolf riders charged in, and Gardor regained his mount.
At this point, Gerdor no longer cared about making a name for himself; he only wanted to kill this terrifying monster.
"Warriors, for Azeroth, Charge!"
Goldor decided to overwhelm Cairne with sheer numbers. Although the Tauren Chieftain was terrifyingly powerful, he was still flesh and blood and could bleed and get injured. Even ants can kill an elephant if there are enough of them.
The battle gradually tilted in favor of the Orcs. The Tauren Legion's dense Charge formation was tightly pinned down by the wolf riders, making it difficult for them to maneuver. Under the constant attacks of the wolf riders, Tauren fell in droves.
These Tauren are as powerful as demons; even when severely wounded, their fighting prowess remains undiminished, and they only die when their heads are chopped off.
At the same time, the Orcs also paid a heavy price. The ground was covered with a thick layer of flesh and blood, with the limbs of Tauren, Orcs, and Frostwolf Clan mixed together, and then trampled into mincemeat by the hooves of the later Frostwolf Clan and Tauren.
On the front, the spearmen who replaced the axe throwers were quickly on the verge of collapse due to heavy casualties.
In order to maintain the morale of the Orcs, Vol'jin had to withdraw his spearmen, who had suffered more than half their casualties.
Next up was the Sword and Shield Legion, a Legion whose members wielded massive shields and possessed formidable defensive capabilities. Vol'jin hoped they could halt the Tauren's advance.
Meanwhile, the Orcs heavy wolf riders began to advance slowly, needing to get within Charge range to launch a flanking Charge on the last remnants of the Tauren Legion and end the battle completely.
Vol'jin looked at Cairne, his old friend, who had been swallowed up by countless wolf riders.
Victory was in sight. Vol'jin let out a long breath. The Troll race sometimes had a sudden urge to be wary of impending danger.
At times, this feeling is particularly accurate, and it was this sudden impulse that prompted Vol'jin to seek help from the Night Elves.
Now that victory is within reach, Vol'jin admits it's an illusion.
The heavily armored wolf riders launched a fierce Charge from the left and right, like two torrents of steel.
The last remnants of the Tauren were finally overwhelmed and crushed by the steel torrent.
The wolf riders have begun cleaning up the Battlefield.
Cairne Bloodhoof, the great Tauren Chieftain, remains the victor. He stands proudly atop the pile of corpses, one of his horns missing, the other only half remaining.
Cairne was unrecognizable; only one eye remained intact. He had lost his right arm, and his left leg, with its exposed white bone, barely supported his body.
Gordo Nazgrim, the Orcs Warrior aspired to great deeds, has vanished without a trace, and his Frostwolf Clan elite troops have been almost completely wiped out.
"Hahaha."
Cairne threw his head back and let out a wild laugh.
Seeing Cairne's smug expression from afar, Vol'jin suddenly felt a surge of excitement.
How is that possible?
A gleaming blade flashed behind Cairne.