Waiting

The second week of September was the Harvest Festival. Everyone in Lordaeron celebrated the year's harvest on that day and honored the heroes who had passed away. But the warriors stationed at Northland Fortress had no time for festivities. Everyone was busy preparing for the coming campaign against Zul'Aman.

Under the supervision of large numbers of human warriors, the gnolls of the Blackpaw Clan who had remained at the camp spent each day felling trees, building a new camp, and making simple weapons.

Though they were called weapons, they were little more than sharpened sticks used as spears or handles nailed onto thick wooden boards to make shields. These would prove useful in the campaign to clear out the Trolls. Until he was certain the gnolls would not rebel, Maxwell didn't dare provide them with quality equipment.

Moreover, according to word from the capital, the gnolls gathered near the fortress would not be limited to the Blackpaw Clan. In the campaign following the kingdom's Harvest Festival, all gnoll tribes that surrendered to the kingdom, as well as those captured during the clearances, would be sent to the area around Northland Fortress. A conservative estimate put their numbers at twenty to thirty thousand. They could become a powerful asset in the campaign against Zul'Aman—or a huge burden and a hidden danger to the human army.

But the seasoned commander had already devised a plan. As long as the Blackpaw gnolls, who were currently behaving themselves, truly swore allegiance to humanity, he was confident he could make the most of the gnolls who would be brought here in the coming war against the Trolls.

During this period of waiting, Alvin had finally made another breakthrough under the archbishop's tutelage. He had not only mastered more second-circle divine spells but also successfully advanced to the fourth level as a Priest, just one step away from becoming a mid-tier Priest.

Unlike his experience in the game, in this world of Azeroth, mortals were divided into twenty levels across four stages: levels one to five were low-tier, six to ten mid-tier, eleven to fifteen high-tier, and sixteen to nineteen master-tier. Anyone who surpassed level twenty entered what was known as the legendary realm, a fabled domain that few mortals could reach.

Ordinary human soldiers were generally low-tier Warriors. Mid-tier Warriors were qualified to become squad leaders, while high-tier Warriors could command a company of two hundred as junior officers. For higher-ranking military posts, however, the standards went beyond personal strength; they also considered military knowledge and experience in war.

A general was not necessarily the strongest Warrior in the army, but he would at least be a high-tier Warrior, and would also possess considerable skill or extensive experience in commanding large-scale battles.

Alvin remembered that powerful beings ran rampant in this world. But after spending half a year with Uther and Kel'Thuzad, he had once again grasped the truth of "strength in numbers." Unless one was prepared, even a high-tier professional could not move freely across a battlefield of thousands.

He had yet to meet any Warriors who had entered the legendary realm. But judging from historical records and his own deductions, sheer numbers could often make up for a lack of top-tier strength in mortal wars. In other words, even the strongest among mortals could be overwhelmed and killed by a sea of people.

This also matched Alvin's experience in the game—the War of the Shifting Sands and the Battle of Ulduar, in which powerful Old Gods were sealed one after another; Onyxia and Nefarian, mighty scions of Deathwing, all slain by mortal hands.

Though numbers could sometimes overcome quality, Alvin still wasn't used to entrusting his fate to others. From the moment he opened his eyes and entered this fantastical world, the desire to grow stronger had taken root deep within him. What young person wasn't a little chūnibyō? What ordinary modern person wouldn't be obsessed with mysterious, mighty powers?

A flash of pure white Holy Light passed over Alvin.

After casting a blessing spell on himself for the third time, the boy sensed the new power coursing through him. He swung the two-handed greatsword, nearly as tall as he was, and charged at Uther, who stood a few steps away. The weapon he once struggled to wield now seemed alive in his hands. He spun the once-heavy sword in a circle and brought it crashing down at the young Warrior.

Clang!

The young Warrior easily blocked the attack with his shield, angling it cleverly to deflect most of the force from the sword. He sidestepped Alvin's body as it was carried forward by the momentum, frowned slightly, then glanced back at the boy, who was thrilled by his newfound power, and shouted, "Stop!"

"This is training, not a battlefield. Fight using the strength of your own body!"

Even though he was training the prince of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, the stern instructor showed not the slightest leniency. He rebuked the boy sharply. "Remember, using the power of the Holy Light during training does little to improve your physical strength. It will only keep you from breaking free of a power that doesn't belong to your body."

After speaking, the man looked toward the fortress gate. A large group of fully armed knights rode their tall warhorses toward the watchtower. The royal banner, embroidered with a blue double-headed eagle, announced their identity to all: the Royal Knights of Lordaeron.

The first reinforcements from the Kingdom of Lordaeron had arrived. The knights were escorting gnolls from north of Andorhal, who had long occupied Redpine Valley. In this battle, the Red Pine Gnolls had been wiped out. After the brutal fighting, fewer than half of their warriors had been captured, and nearly all were wounded.

As for the Mudsnout gnolls who roamed Silverpine Forest, the military might of the Kingdom of Lordaeron had split them apart. Most members of the Mudsnout Clan followed their leader south into Gilneas, while around three thousand young Warriors chose to surrender.

After the first batch of Red Pine Gnoll captives arrived at Northland Fortress, they were treated very differently from the Blackpaw Clan. Though Lordaeron's Priests provided them with some treatment and medical care, both humans and Blackpaw gnolls kept them under constant watch.

Maxwell didn't want these beasts, who had incurred the Kingdom of Lordaeron's enmity on the battlefield, slipping out of his control. Tagg, meanwhile, wanted to use the Redpine Clan to free the Blackpaw Clan from its status as cannon fodder. Though their motives differed, they shared the same goal: to make the Redpine gnolls serve as frontline cannon fodder in the siege of Zul'Aman.