Although all the elves had mounts, they were not cavalry. They were merely rangers with mounts, riding on the march but still having to dismount and fight on foot.
They raced forward behind the human cavalry. Between them and the riders ran all sorts of battle pets clad in gleaming armor.
The thunderous atmosphere of war set every running elf's blood ablaze. This was their first large-scale frontal assault since joining the war.
The orcs who had been sheltering from the bombardment hurriedly scrambled out of cover, but there was too little time for them to organize an effective defense. For human cavalry charging at full speed, the short distance of a bowshot took only an instant to cross.
The Death Knights could only frantically urge the undead soldiers to surge to the front and block the human cavalry's advance. These piles of bones were hardly impressive, but at least there were plenty of them. Even if they could do little damage to the charging cavalry, they could absorb some of the charge's momentum and buy the orc troops behind them time to form an effective defensive line.
The allied spearhead, made up of three hundred human Paladins and over a thousand light and heavy cavalry, was like a sharp, silvery-white blade. It plunged through the breach in the orcs' fortifications and sliced effortlessly into the mass of gray-white bones as though cutting through tofu, scattering countless bone fragments and clouds of bone dust in its wake.
"Kill!" Daelin shouted as he charged at the front of the spearhead, surrounded by three hundred human Paladins. "Faster! Faster!"
The human cavalry's spirits soared. As their warhorses picked up speed, they no longer even needed to hack at the enemies ahead of them. The sheer force of their horses' charge was enough