Chapter 560: Collapsing Frontline

The sudden strike from the Death Knights threw the Alliance's frontline into chaos.

Ordinary soldiers had never witnessed such horrifying scenes before.

The orcs' heavy hammers and giant axes were already terrifying, but at least those attacks could be anticipated and blocked. 

These mysterious deaths—bleeding from all seven orifices without warning—left the regular troops utterly defenseless.

To make matters worse, the Death Knights emitted a deadly cloud of deathly mist. 

Even more terrifying, the corpses of fallen soldiers began to rise again, turning on their former comrades in a grotesque reversal.

The poisonous fog, invisible yet lethal, and the corpses reanimated by the Death Knights filled the Alliance soldiers with dread.

The morale of the front ranks crumbled almost instantly. Many infantrymen fled the moment a Death Knight drew near. No matter how the lower-ranking officers tried to rally their men and restore formation, the soldiers refused to reform the shield wall.

Some officers even took the lead in fleeing.

Fortunately, even among the orcs, the Death Knights were a feared and mistrusted unit. Their sudden charge had not been accompanied by enough orcish infantry.

Otherwise, with just one well-timed charge by the orcs, the Alliance formation would have been completely shattered.

It was Alaric—ever calm and composed—who was the first to react to the sudden emergence of the Death Knights.

"Enemy special unit sighted—Death Knights!" he shouted. "Paladins, move out! Hold them back!"

Among those who responded first to Alaric's order was Liadrin. Among the Silver Hand's Six, she was perhaps Alaric's most loyal follower.

"In the name of the Light!" Liadrin rode forth and called out to the elven paladins behind her. "Silver Hand, advance!"

She galloped directly into the ranks of the front-line soldiers, lifting her longsword high into the air. The tip of the blade radiated a golden light, dazzling like the sun itself.

"Get up, soldiers!" she shouted. "The Light will protect you!"

The light spread from her sword, bathing the warriors in its glow. When the cloaked figures raised their hands again, the soldiers faltered—but this time, none fell.

Liadrin then charged forward. A gap opened in the shield wall, allowing her and the other paladins to pass through one by one. 

Uther soon followed with the rest of the Silver Hand knights.

The divine radiance of the paladins instantly dispersed the Death Knights' deathly fog. Corpses touched by their holy weapons collapsed as though struck by their nemesis, falling like harvested grain.

The paladins also used their Light to heal the wounded and calm their fear.

The Alliance soldiers cheered once more, their spirits lifted by the paladins' astonishing strength and grace.

Only Turalyon felt conflicted. As a paladin, he should have joined them. But as Lothar's lieutenant, his duty was to remain and support his commander.

No matter what, the two professions—Paladins and Death Knights, born in opposition and nearly at the same time—had finally clashed face to face for the first time.

The Death Knights' shadow and necromantic magic brought decay and death, but the Paladins' holy Light countered the darkness. The two sides fought to a stalemate, trading blow for blow.

Meanwhile, the orcs seized the moment to launch a coordinated attack with the Death Knights against the shield wall. 

Yet the timely arrival of the paladins eased the pressure, and the breaches were soon patched by fresh soldiers.

On the orc side, Orgrim had always felt a mix of admiration and unease about the Death Knights' power. 

Though their presence still made him uneasy, he acknowledged their fearsome might on the battlefield. But now, with the sudden appearance of these powerful Paladins, his brow furrowed deeply. 

These warriors wielding the Light were far tougher than the frail priests of the past—and in alarming numbers, especially for magic-wielders.

Orgrim was forced to reevaluate the importance of the Death Knights, shelving his previous thoughts of disbanding them.

Now, to defeat this army that he believed had come to reinforce Stromgarde, and to ensure the Horde's conquest of the city, he would need to play more cards.

Alaric quickly noticed the Horde's new move.

He saw enormous creatures—much taller than the orcs—approaching the Alliance frontlines.

Ogres!

These massive beings had entered the fray, swinging wooden clubs as thick as uprooted trees. Their presence immediately tipped the battlefield's balance. 

Even the paladins and Death Knights were forced to give them a wide berth.

Under their hammer-like blows, the entire shield wall shattered. The soldiers, overwhelmed by the sheer force, were routed. The Horde surged through the gaps, sweeping aside the Alliance troops behind them.

"Change tactics immediately," Alaric ordered his signal officer. "Initiate the contingency plan. All troops, form squad-based defensive formations! Fall back and regroup!"

The signal officer nodded, raised his horn, and blew two distinct notes—one short, one long.

Upon hearing it, squad leaders barked commands, gathering their scattered men. Even soldiers separated from their units found nearby sergeants with higher ranks to rally around.

Each squad swiftly formed a small defensive phalanx. 

This maneuver had been part of Alaric's training plan for the Alliance troops, combining modern tactics with different formations. 

Though different from the large battalions favored by the human kingdoms, Lothar had approved it.

Now, in the midst of chaos, this new training proved its worth.

These improvised shield formations, centered around squad leaders and senior sergeants, effectively prevented further casualties. They held the orcs at bay as they steadily retreated.

The Horde tried to break through them, but the Alliance soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder, weapons braced, stabbing at any orc who came near.

The orcs launched wave after wave of relentless assaults, crashing into the squads repeatedly. These small phalanxes, while thinner than full battalions, held their ground until exhaustion claimed them.

Occasionally, a squad was overwhelmed and devoured by the tide of orcs.

But most of the Alliance troops managed to retreat successfully.

Back at the hill's base, Turalyon and other officers rode through the lines on horseback, directing soldiers to build a new shield wall.

As each squad fell back, the wall would open just long enough to let them through, then seal again.

The soldiers immediately reinforced the new wall and helped the next squad pass safely.

Behind the wall stood the high elven ranger units. Under Alleria's command, they loosed volley after volley of arrows, doing everything they could to stall the orcs. 

She feared that even the smallest breach could bring the whole line crashing down.

At last, the collapse of the frontline was halted—just in time.

Yet the ogres still posed a grave threat to the Alliance.

Someone would have to deal with them.