Chapter 561: Frenzy Spell

In the previous battle, the Alliance had formed a solid defensive line through flawless coordination among its soldiers. 

Wave after wave of Horde assaults were repelled, forcing even the most powerful orcs to spill their blood before shields of steel and walls of spears.

Despite unleashing formidable units such as death knights and ogres, the Horde only managed to inflict limited damage to the Alliance's defenses. Thanks to the relentless efforts of the Alliance commanders, the line held firm—leaving the orcs without any significant breakthroughs.

However, the ogres remained a major headache for the Alliance.

Though the Horde had already paid a hefty price, they still had a seemingly endless stream of reinforcements. Every passing minute, more warriors joined the fight.

The Alliance's current attrition strategy had not yet reached a point where it could secure victory. For now, they had no choice but to keep defending.

The most urgent task was to stop the ogres from approaching the newly established defensive line.

As for how to do that, Lothar was out of ideas. Among his elite forces, the paladins were locked in battle with the death knights, and the rest were simply no match for the ogres. 

The only ones capable of countering the ogres were the towering arcane constructs controlled by the high elves.

Unfortunately, in this field operation, Lothar had opted for speed and mobility, leading only his elite troops. 

The arcane constructs had been left behind in the main camp at the Wall of Thoradin to avoid slowing down the march.

Under these circumstances, he could only turn to Alaric for help.

"We need to do something to keep them away from this hill," the old warrior said with a helpless expression. "Right now, I can only rely on your power. Quick, use your unbeatable magic and figure something out."

"Why don't you try asking the magic conch?"

Alaric resisted the urge to blurt that out and instead gave a small nod.

"I'll do what I can," he promised.

Before them wasn't just a single ogre or two—but dozens, possibly even hundreds. 

They weren't even grouped together, scattered among the ordinary orcs, making it difficult for Alaric to deal with them through conventional means.

Still, Alaric had his own methods.

According to Draenor's history, orcs were a degenerated offshoot of the once-mighty elemental rock giants, gradually devolving into gronn, then one-eyed ogres, and finally the ogres seen today.

During this descent, their physical strength declined, but their intelligence steadily improved.

Compared to orcs, ogres were undoubtedly much more dim-witted.

To deal with such opponents—brutishly strong but simple-minded—mind control and mental manipulation spells were often far more effective than brute-force magical attacks.

Conveniently, not far ahead, a massive ogre was charging toward the Alliance lines with a giant wooden club in hand, swinging it with tremendous force. 

In front of him, several human foot soldiers—each barely half his height—stood their ground with forced calm, shields raised to face the incoming blow.

Alaric focused, locking eyes with the ogre.

Arcane energy flowed through his gaze and into the ogre's mind.

With its feeble intelligence, the ogre didn't even attempt to resist and was immediately affected by Alaric's magic.

A surge of irritation suddenly welled up inside the ogre's chest—so intense that he forgot the carefully memorized combat orders from his orc commander.

Under the influence of this induced frenzy, the simple-minded ogre found all the little beings scurrying around him incredibly annoying. 

He wished they would all just disappear.

So, he acted.

Before he even reached the Alliance lines, the massive brute randomly swung his club and sent two unfortunate orc warriors flying—both of whom happened to be charging ahead of him.

The sudden outburst shocked not only the Alliance soldiers but also the ogre's own allies.

While the Alliance soldiers could afford a moment of stunned confusion, the nearby orcs didn't have that luxury.

Within seconds, the frenzied ogre smashed two more hapless orcs. The remaining orcs were forced to pile on him in an attempt to subdue their berserk comrade.

At that point, Alaric's spell had already worn off.

But the ogre—too dim-witted to realize anything was amiss—didn't recognize his momentary frenzy for what it was. 

Just as he finally recalled the orders from his commander and was about to resume his charge, he suddenly noticed he was surrounded by orcs.

And those orcs were now raising their weapons against him.

Why were they doing that? He didn't know. But no matter—he would fight back first and ask questions later!

Thus, a full-blown brawl erupted.

Even against orcs, the ogre proved a formidable force. He tore apart three warriors before a blow to the back of his head finally brought him down.

Yet this was not the only ogre to fall under Alaric's spell.

Alaric rode horseback along the rear of the Alliance line, moving constantly.

Any ogre who happened to meet his gaze was effortlessly afflicted with the Frenzy Spell. 

The spell wasn't high-level, and Alaric didn't make it last too long—just enough to conserve mana—but even a few seconds of rage was enough for these hulking creatures to wreak havoc in the middle of the orc ranks, triggering full-on brawls.

Even the slightly smarter ogres who realized something unnatural was influencing them couldn't explain it to the orcs.

Firstly, most of them lacked the language skills to express themselves.

Secondly, as a race subjugated by the orcs, the ogres had long harbored resentment. Though individually powerful, they held a lower status within the Horde. 

Unwittingly, Alaric's spell had struck right at the heart of that buried grudge—bringing it to the surface.

Eventually, Alaric didn't even need to cast spells anymore. The ogres in the rear, seeing their fellows brawling, followed suit of their own accord.

The chaos spread from the frontlines to the rear ranks. Ultimately, the Horde began to suspect that the ogres were committing battlefield treason. 

Warchief Orgrim was forced to halt further deployment of ogres and personally executed several of the most disruptive ones to bring the situation under control.

However, from that moment forward, a deep mistrust settled between the orcs and ogres.

Even someone as wise as Orgrim suspected that this chaos was instigated by Alliance magic—but he was powerless to prevent it.

After all, compared to the Alliance, the Horde's system was far looser and more backward. Its internal conflicts were far more intense, and even though the current war temporarily suppressed them, these issues weren't going away anytime soon.

Back on the Alliance side, the sight of this chain reaction left Lothar utterly stunned.

Alaric had somehow, through magic alone, instigated a miniature civil conflict within the Horde.

Though Alaric repeatedly insisted it had all been a lucky accident, Lothar remained convinced that it was the result of the brilliant mage's precise planning.

"As expected of Archmage Sandor," Lothar murmured in awe.