Anduin Lothar breathed a sigh of relief, then pushed the orc's corpse off him.
He struggled to his feet, took a few steps forward, and clasped young Varian's hand.
"Uncle Lothar, did we win?" Varian Wrynn asked quietly.
"Yes!" Lothar swept his resolute gaze ahead, a faint smile appearing on his face. "We won!"
The Alliance soldiers shouted Lothar's name, as though that name could give them endless courage.
Lothar looked at the dumbstruck orcs. Witnessing their leader's death had drained them of almost all their courage...
Victory in the duel broke the battlefield's brief silence.
Uther and the other knights of the Silver Hand had reached the vicinity of the Royal Palace while Lothar and Doomhammer were fighting. Now they charged to the front lines again.
Uther Lightbringer, the devout paladin, drove into the Horde's ranks like an enraged bull.
He no longer wielded his usual warhammer, instead picking up a greatsword at hand.
The Holy Light surrounded him as his blade, blazing like the sun, began to dance. Before an orc at the very front could react, Uther slit his throat. The beast fell, blood spraying from the wound, while the paladin charged toward the other orcs, who seemed to have lost their will.
He seemed to have already learned of King Terenas's death. That merciful monarch, that kind old man, had shone as brightly as the Holy Light in Uther's heart. Yet now he was dead, slain by orcs...
Lothar understood the paladin's feelings. He had been the same when Llane died...
"Quickly, everyone retreat!"
A black-clad figure emerged from the Horde's ranks, directing the bewildered Horde warriors to withdraw.
Though no one knew where they could retreat to.
"I'll hold them off!" A hoarse shout came from in front of the paladin.
The blade in Uther's