Chapter 261: Revealing the Hidden Cards

A glint of excitement flickered in the eyes of everyone in the command center.

They had no idea how many troops the Horde had left, but the loss of a hundred thousand orcs on the shore, plus those intercepted at sea by Daelin's fleet, was a devastating blow to the Horde. It seemed that the human casualties would not exceed twenty thousand.

From any perspective, this was a once-in-a-century victory.

Duke had just shifted his gaze from the evenly matched Windrunner sisters' duel with the Horde leader, when he was astonished to find that the showdown between Azeroth's most powerful mage and Draenor's most powerful warlock had reached its conclusion.

It was a draw!

Antonidas and Gul'dan each clutched their wounds.

The left shoulder of Antonidas' mage robes had been burned away, and a malevolent black rune writhed on the elderly mage's body. Antonidas was using his arcane energy to dispel the rune, but it was proving difficult.

On the other side, Gul'dan had been similarly injured. A massive ice shard had pierced his entire left shoulder, and from the wound, frost patterns spread like spiderwebs toward Gul'dan's heart. He resisted the cold's invasion by pouring fel fire into his own shoulder.

"Hmph! I'll spare your life today."

"Next time, I'll take your filthy head."

The two of them turned and left without hesitation.

Antonidas struggled to teleport back to the command center, while Gul'dan transformed into a cloud of black mist and disappeared across the sea.

"Master, are you all right? Uther, come and help!"

Darkness radiated from the spot Antonidas had clutched, the viscous black aura carrying a strong sense of foreboding. It tried to burrow deep into the old mage's body, eroding his magical circuits.

Fortunately, Uther's holy light shone even brighter. Despite beads of sweat on his forehead, Uther took about five minutes to completely dispel the darkness.

"Thank you. It seems that paladins are truly a great profession," Antonidas sincerely praised, then turned to Duke. "What a terrifying orc warlock. I am no match for him. If I had continued to fight, I would have died, and at most, I would have inflicted a moderate wound on him. I don't know why he pretended to be severely injured. All I can say is that he'll need a week at most to recover, but by then, I may not be able to fight for the Alliance."

"Don't worry! He won't be back," Duke said with absolute certainty.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Duke turned to look at Krasus among the Dalaran crowd. "Could you please send the archmage back to Dalaran and then ask Archbishop Faol to visit Dalaran? Have him perform a thorough examination of the archmage."

Normally, it would have been better to send Antonidas to the capital city of Lordaeron. However, for political reasons, Antonidas would prefer to recover in his own sanctuary.

Krasus quickly opened a portal to Dalaran and sent Antonidas through it. In a short time, Krasus himself returned via a portal.

The orcs weren't foolish. After several failed charges, even the most stubborn among them realized that crowding on the shore was a recipe for disaster. They abandoned their blind assault, as if waiting for something. .

Duke's pupils suddenly shrank to the size of pinholes.

They're coming!

Finally, they're coming!

Duke stood tall, slamming his hand on the table.

"Send the order. All cavalry units prepare to countercharge the enemy along the predetermined route. All reserve forces move into battle positions, with the spear and javelin squads as the main force."

It was finally their turn. The commanders in the command post were getting impatient. If it weren't for Duke's masterful guidance, constantly suppressing the Horde, some kings might have protested by now.

At Duke's command, more than half the people in the command post left.

As Uther descended the hill, he was puzzled.

"Marshal Lothar, are we to countercharge towards the coast from the ruins of Southshore? I'm still doubtful about this order. Does the Horde have any cavalry? I don't think the Horde has anything that can stop your cavalry units and my Knights of the Silver Hand."

Marshal Haas, commander of the Alterac forces, was also puzzled: "It's even stranger for me. My Gryphon Riders are ordered to attack the enemy along the gentle slopes on the eastern hills. Although the Gryphons are mountain knights and accustomed to fighting in complex terrain, I see Marshal Rhonin's infantry doing just as well. I can't think of any reason for reinforcements."

Lothar laughed, a bright and sunny smile: "Can you write ten, twenty reports at the same time?"

"I cannot," Uther replied honestly.

"How could that be possible!?" Haas retorted.

"But I know that powerful mages have the magical ability of Multicasting. That is, the ability to do two or even many things simultaneously. Duke is such a genius. He can read many more reports than us in a short time. He often notices many details that we miss. For threats he is unsure of, he will prepare, but since he can't convince everyone, he becomes accustomed to silence."

Lothar paused and continued: "However, time and time again, his preparations and contingency plans have proven to be correct and effective. Even if I don't want to admit it, I must acknowledge that in terms of strategy and command, he is above me. If he were a close combat professional, perhaps he would be the supreme commander."

Lothar spoke of another fact of the era, where people with a knightly spirit often revered close combat heroes rather than mysterious magic users. In their subconscious minds, many believed that only the upfront and righteous were true men.

Ten minutes later, the signal for the assault came.

Many new creatures appeared on the coast, much taller than the orcs.

Apart from a few orcs who were over three meters tall, the orcs were Marshally around two and a half meters. But these creatures were easily four meters tall.

Ogres!

These massive creatures joined the battle, swinging gigantic wooden clubs like uprooted trees. They roared and charged up the hills.

Arrows and javelins were useless.

Even if a dozen spears pierced an ogre's body, unless they hit a vital spot, they couldn't end the life of these brutal monsters.

Each swing of the massive clubs shattered a bunker, sending rows of shield-bearing soldiers flying.

The human shield wall, which had been relied upon to confront the orcs, became the deadliest weakness, allowing each of the ogre's strikes to cause massive casualties.

Apart from the ballistae and cannons on the hilltop, there was little that could halt these giant creatures.

The soldiers were crushed by this powerful onslaught. Orc soldiers broke through the gaps and swiftly spread out, sweeping through the Alliance soldiers in the trenches.

A group of figures wearing heavy cloaks and riding heavy-armored warhorses appeared on the now somewhat dilapidated dock. Each horse's eyes blazed with dazzling red light.