Sylvanas's silently mouthed words seemed to solidify into icicles amid the din of battle, stabbing viciously at the smug Yu Lin Bloodhawk in the distance. He had clearly understood her, but rather than rein himself in, he went even further and whistled. Standing dozens of yards away with his hands on his hips and his chin tilted up forty-five degrees, he looked insufferably pleased with himself, as though saying, So what? Come hit me!
"Heh, heh, heh!" Sylvanas gave a series of cold chuckles. The icy arcane gleam around her fingertips slowly faded, and she spared no further glance for the Orc Shaman, who was already thoroughly dead.
"Area cleared." Her cool voice remained steady, as though that little interlude had never happened. "Follow the Heavy Infantry formations. Advance at a steady pace and fire at will."
The order was absolute. The elves followed the human Heavy Infantry formations of varying sizes, each resembling an iron hedgehog, advancing steadily and providing ranged support. Shields rose like walls, spears bristled like forests, and arrows fell like rain as they pushed forward. Each formation was a brutal killing machine, grinding the remaining pockets of Orc resistance scattered by the Steel Torrent beneath the relentless, tread-like order of their advance.
The High Elf Rangers' arcane Rain of Arrows sometimes fell sparsely like rain, sometimes thickly like hail. Every volley precisely snuffed out the sparks of a counterattack whenever an Orc with some talent for leadership tried to rally the others.
Most areas in the Main Camp where more than twenty or thirty Orcs had gathered were swiftly wiped out. Only a handful of visibly clustered groups remained, and most of the scattered survivors were forced to disperse and hide in dark corners, waiting for a chance to ambush the attackers.
Meanwhile, at the