Angrathar The war is still going on, but compared to the passionate battle of thousands of troops a day ago, the intensity of the battle that night was much lower. When the sun pierced the sky the next day, the front of the battlefield only had the smoke and tragedy left over from the first day. There was no longer the sight of swords clashing and magic exploding.
Of course, there are sporadic flames of war, but that is just a contest between Scout and Scout. Whether it is Alliance Forces or Undead, it takes a while to prepare. It is like two beasts that have just fought to the death. They have to wait for the strength to replenish their bodies before they can engage in the next round of deadly battle.
Although both sides wanted to immediately pierce their fangs into the opponent's veins and give it a fatal blow, their bodies were covered in bruises and bruises, but they had to tolerate the opponent lying there, recovering the strength to kill them.
In fact, the results of the initial counterattack and the shocking sword were not as great as they seemed.
It just gave Alliance Forces another strategic buffer area. Fordragon Hold and Warsong Hold were submerged in the first wave of Undead Scourge's raids, but now, Alliance Forces has regained those two places.
But that's all. Although Mograine Grand Knight led the Paladin cluster and once advanced to the vicinity of the broken city wall of Angrathar, Arthas obviously also noticed the importance of this place. He could not allow it to fall, so the quantity and quality of Undead in that place were frighteningly high.
It is simply a new city wall made of flesh and blood.
No matter how strong Revenge's heart was, Mograine still retained his sanity. With the support of artillery fire, after Charge failed to break through Undead's defense twice in a row, Grand Knight was so angry that he still had no choice but to retreat.
However, the significance of this battle is far more important than the results obtained. From a strategic point of view, the recovery of Fordragon Hold and Warsong Hold is far more important than the original Defensive Line of Alliance Forces. It has become the second Defensive Line, and in front of the two fortresses, there is a new Defensive Line that is rapidly taking shape, which makes the form of this battle more stable and makes the Commanders happy.
From a psychological point of view, the advantage of this battle has undoubtedly broken the soldiers' fear of Undead. An excellent Warrior cannot be afraid of its opponents. This negative emotion will make it impossible to achieve 100 points or even 70 points.
The direct result of the curse being broken is the rapid improvement of overall morale.
But this did not make the Alliance Forces executives complacent. Almost everyone who watched the war could not forget the disadvantages of the period before the war began. The sight of the black torrent rolling in and crushing everything in front of them could make people wake up directly from Sleep. In fact, if Knights of the Ebon Blade had not joined, the result of the battle would have been...
So on the second day when the war calmed down a bit, the rulers rushed back to their own countries and forces. Just last night, a resolution was passed. Before the end of Undead War, various countries will continue to send more troops here to fight Undead to the death and defend their upcoming victory.
There is also a very cruel content in this resolution: in the next ten years, there will be no death penalty in various countries. All prisoners, including serious criminals and political prisoners, will be exiled to various battlefields in Northrend. If they do not die, they will be free after the war is over. If they die... it will be regarded as atonement.
It is worth mentioning that the first batch of cannon fodder to arrive on the battlefield will be those Pirate who were captured by Kul Tiras. Those Old Sea Dog who traverse Sea will probably never imagine that most of them will end up in this cold and dim snowfield.
But no one will complain about those scumbags. After witnessing Undead Scourge's offensive, no matter how soft-hearted people are, they have become tougher.
Just like Dick said, this is a war that cannot be retreated, because retreating means death, and there is no second option.
Garrosh sat a little tiredly on Orcs Defensive Line. He leaned against the cold brick wall, which still had black blood stains on it. Not far away, a smashed Skeleton was thrown there. He looked at Orcs Warrior with dark eyes. The latter did not look at the thing, but looked at the sky indifferently.
He had just returned from Warsong Hold on the front line. He had been performing Scout patrol missions all night, and killed at least 7 Death Knight and countless Risen. Skeleton, young Orcs felt for the first time that wielding War Axe was a laborious task. In the end, he even picked up the Dwarven Rifle he picked up from the battlefield. At least it was much more convenient to kill Risen.
"Hey, man, I've been looking for you for a long time..."
Figures on the left and right came from behind and sat next to Garrosh. They were Dranosh with a bandage on his arm, and Jorin who was equally tired. The latter sat down and took out three Oranges from his arms, one for each person.
"Tsk... so sour!"
Dranosh roughly opened the skin of Oranges and stuffed the pulp into his mouth. The next moment, the expression on his face twitched. He complained, and then bumped Garrosh with his shoulder.
"Dude, you look like you're in a bad mood. What's wrong? Did you encounter any problems?"
Garrosh looked in the distance in the direction of Warsong Hold and sighed,
"I attended a funeral there this morning. Just when the battle started yesterday, all the 340 Champion who stayed behind Warsong Hold were... It was an internal funeral of the Warsong Clan. The old Warrior asked me to take over the position of Chieftain left by my father and let me continue to lead them. This made me very distressed."
"You also know that Thrall built New Horde, and the lives of the people are much better than before. I don't know if Chieftain should become Warsong Clan. Maybe this will cause division within New Horde... And I found that many old Warrior seem not to be satisfied with Thrall..."
Jorin's face became serious, and he nodded. According to the tradition of the clan since he was a child, One-Eye has been preserved with the light of Wisdom shining.
"You have a point, Garrosh. When I was exchanging Warlock books at Cleft of Shadow, I heard a lot about Dragonmaw and Blackrock Orcs from some Warlock According to the news, these clans have not experienced the establishment of New Horde, and they still retain a strong hatred for humans. Some of them are not satisfied with the rule of Thrall... Frankly speaking, I think we should throw those guys here and let them see the trouble we face."
"But I think, Garrosh, you should accept Warsong Clan's Chieftain position."
Dranosh rubbed his chin and said to his brother,
"It's not because that position is so special. Since you have discovered signs of division within the Warsong Clan, you should shoulder the responsibilities entrusted to you by your Bloodline!"
He looked at Garrosh and patted him on the shoulder, "It is much better to suppress them now than to fight each other in the future."
"Huh, let me think about it again."
Garrosh threw the Oranges in his hand far away and said to Jorin, "Where did you find Oranges? It's so sour!"
"Hi, you three!"
The sound coming from behind made the three young Orcs turn around and saw a Orcs Wolf Rider riding on White War Wolf. He waved to the three people and shouted loudly,
"Come with me quickly, Overlord Saurfang wants to see you for something!"
Garrosh hurriedly stood up, and his brothers stepped on the tame War Wolf next to them, and rushed towards the deepest part of Defensive Line.
"You have a special mission!"
Saurfang's chest and arms were still wrapped with bandages, and there were shocking blood stains on them. These were the wounds left after he had a big fight with Rivendare of Four Horsemen yesterday. Generally speaking, old Orc made a profit, because the unlucky guy Rivendare died again.
During the retreat, he was chopped off in the waist by Saurfang with an axe. His head was still hung as a trophy on the city wall of Warsong Hold.
Now in this hall, there are only Saurfang, three young people opposite, and an unknown Human Mage. Before the conversation started, a thick barrier had been shrouded around the hall to ensure that no one could hear their conversation.
"Remember, the content of this mission is absolutely confidential!"
Old Orc's eyes passed over the three people in front of him. The aggressive look made Dranosh's spirit suddenly lifted up. Although he didn't get along with his father for a long time, every time he showed this expression, it meant that something really big had happened.
"The location of the mission is also confidential. I can't tell you the specific itinerary, but you will naturally know it after you arrive... I will only tell you a little! Remember it clearly!"
The three people's bodies straightened up. Saurfang nodded with satisfaction. He emphasized his tone,
"All Trial, all the tests, everything is for today. You will represent Orgrimmar in the greatest Operation in the world. Your Operation results will directly affect the outcome of the war against Undead Scourge, but remember one thing: If the mission is at risk of failure, I need you to withdraw as quickly as possible!"
Seeing that Garrosh had the idea to speak, old Orc raised his hand and stopped him,
"Listen to me, I'm not encouraging you to flee the battlefield, but not only will I say this, but Bolvar of the Alliance will also say the same. You are the hope of the next generation, and you can't die there in vain. In short, this will be a glorious battle. If you can survive, you will benefit from it for the rest of your life."
"Okay, remember to keep it secret...Dranosh, you can stay here for a while. Garrosh and Jorin can go pack their bags. Head to New Hearthglen this afternoon. There will be a boat there to take you to where you should go."
After the two young Orcs saluted Overlord Saurfang, they turned and left. Dranosh looked at his father and said,
"I will protect myself, father, you don't have to worry about it!"
"No, kid!"
Saurfang sat on the chair, waved his hands, and showed a smile on his face, "That's not what I want to say. Of course, protecting yourself is a must, but there are more things to be happy about. I know you have always envied Garrosh's Gorehowl. Of course, when Grom was alive, I also envied that guy."
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about."
Saurfang looked at his son, as if he saw himself when he was young, the same Courage, the same perseverance, he will be Thunderlord Clan the best Heir, thinking of this, old Orc showed a satisfied smile on his face,
"No need to envy him anymore, my son, I just got the news that through your own performance, you have won yourself one of the best weapons in the world... a weapon that only belongs to Warrior!"
In the evening of the same day, at the port of New Hearthglen, three Orcs stood on the dock with simple salutes on their backs and talked. They had been waiting since the afternoon, but there was still no boat to pick them up. The entire dock area had been blocked, and there were only these three guys in the huge dock. Combined with the local cold wind and the dim night, everything seemed to have become ominous.
"Ah, these humans are so unreliable!"
Garrosh couldn't help but complain, but when he was about to say the second sentence, Dranosh put his hand on his shoulder,
"Hush, there's movement!"
Orcs Warrior subconsciously held his War Axe, and then saw a cold and faint light coming up from the seabed not far below. The surrounding calm sea also began to roll, mixed with a low humming sound, and it looked like some kind of Ocean giant beast was about to climb out of the sea.
The three guys were a little nervous. Jorin raised his hand and blessed the three of them with Shadow Protection Barrier. But the next moment, the Sea in front of them was suddenly separated, and a strange-looking "big fish" rose up from the bottom of the sea.
I don't know if it was intentional or not, but the cold seawater splashed all over the three of them, but before they could react, a secret door opened on the fin of the big steel fish.
"Look who this is... three Orcs."
Matthew Brigadier General dressed in military uniform appeared at the door of the secret door with Commander's Saber on his arm. He looked at the three Orcs with malicious eyes. Looking at their vigilant and defensive look, a cold smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Ten years ago, my bullet had pierced your forehead. Rookies, this is not a good time to settle old scores. Come on, I'm waiting for you!"
After saying that, Brigadier General turned sideways and made way for the three people. Dranosh saw Baron behind Matthew, smiling at him. He was immediately relieved and was the first to step on the pedal of this weird-looking Engineering Submarine.
After all three people entered, Matthew personally closed the valve, and the entire submarine dived into the bottom of the sea again amid a buzzing sound. All waves were wiped away, and it was as if it had never appeared.
"Where are we going?"
Dranosh curiously asked Matthew Brigadier General, who waved his hand without looking back.
"Sit in your seats, rookies, and fasten your seat belts. It may be a little bumpy for a while... As for where we are going..."
Navy Brigadier General turned around and glanced at Dranosh, "The place we are going to is called Hell!"