"Lordaeron hasn't fallen?" A knight removed his helmet and cried out in surprise.
"Did His Majesty Terenas manage to hold the city?" The knight revealed a weathered face, with a sparse, unkempt beard tangled around his mouth and slightly graying hair surrounding a bald patch on his crown.
"Lord Lothar!" Hass hurried to his feet. "No, I heard that King Terenas has already given his life for Lordaeron. King Varian is still holding out inside the city with his men!"
"Varian..." Lothar murmured, a faint smile of reassurance appearing on his lips.
"That boy has grown up..."
"Move out!" The knight put his helmet back on and shouted to those behind him, "Drive these green-skinned monsters out of Lordaeron!"
Uther and the twelve members of the Silver Hand under his command rode close behind Lothar. Behind them, tens of thousands of cavalry poured into Lordaeron!
"For the Alliance!"
Orgrim Doomhammer panted heavily.
The opponent before him-a boy who could hardly even be called an "opponent"-had proved far more troublesome than he had imagined.
Although the boy's body had not yet fully matured, he was still very strong, every bit the equal of some powerful orcs.
His swordsmanship was also skilled and practiced, and he wielded his two broad-bladed swords with impressive vigor.
His combat experience, however, was poor.
Orgrim had exploited that weakness, finding an opening to shatter the sword in his left hand with a hammer blow. With only the sword in his right hand remaining, the human boy had clearly fallen at a disadvantage.
But a moment of carelessness had left Orgrim slightly wounded as well. His opponent had landed a vicious slash on his right shoulder, and even with the protection of his pauldron, it would not stop bleeding...
Of course, the human boy's wounds were