Cunning

It was a magical slugfest that left every onlooker utterly gobsmacked. While everyone had already gotten a whiff of that orc warlock's power, nobody quite realized that their own Alliance deputy commander was no slouch himself. For a glorious moment, a wave of cheers erupted from the Kul Tiras fleet, echoing across the choppy waves.

Meanwhile, Samuro, the Orc Blademaster, beat a tactical retreat. That human king, Daelin, was a tough nut to crack. Samuro couldn't land a killing blow, and the king, for his part, couldn't quite put Samuro down either. It had to be said, the king's fighting style was as novel as a griffin wearing spectacles. He was actually lobbing barrels of explosives from his ridiculously expensive dimensional pouches like a conjurer pulling rabbits from a hat, then detonating them with a musket shot. The sheer scale and violence of those explosions were a real headache for a high-attack, high-speed swordsman like Samuro. He'd even taken a few scrapes. Since he couldn't get a bite out of Daelin, Samuro decided to cut his losses. He had a juicier target in mind: Duke, who had just pulled out all the stops to dispatch Rokama Sharptooth.

Edmund Duke – the most formidable foe recognized by the orcs! His old titles of 'conspirator,' 'wise man,' and all that jazz had been stripped away. After this battle, Duke had only one label, branded onto his very soul: Strong. Just as there's a master general above the brave general and the cunning general, Duke was, in the eyes of every orc, the biggest prize on the board, the most worthy human to be hunted.

Samuro, without so much as a backward glance, tossed Daelin aside like yesterday's garbage and let loose an arrow, aiming squarely at Duke, who was currently bent over, running on fumes and gasping for breath. For a terrifying split second, Duke genuinely thought he might be kicking the bucket again.

But then, Daelin stepped into the breach. He slowly, almost casually, swung the scimitar in his right hand. There was no earth-shattering sword energy, no dramatic display of power that could cleave the sea in two. It was just like an ordinary captain, wielding his blade, calmly ordering his entire ship to open fire. For a moment, Duke braced himself for the roar of powerful, yet ultimately ineffective, cannon fire.

But it didn't come.

Instead, right behind Samuro's rapidly blurring form, a colossal green ghost ship materialized from the void, hurtling forward at breakneck speed. A Ghost Ship!? In this world, specters were about as rare as fleas on a dog, and Duke even had a perfectly adorable ghost pet named Khadgar chilling in Karazhan. But this immense phantom vessel, composed entirely of eerie, almost dark, negative energy, had no true physical form. It was like an illusion, purely designed to scare the pants off you. It flew out of the void, slammed into Samuro's back – who was, by the way, trying to vanish into thin air – with a sound like a giant balloon popping, and then… vanished.

Well, that seemed about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

A few seconds later, Duke watched in stunned disbelief as Samuro plunged headfirst into the churning sea. This is an orc swordsman hero, tough as nails! Could I actually poach the kill!?

"Mogo… Er..." Duke was just about to holler for the Murloc Prophet to deliver the finishing blow when he saw it: Samuro had barely hit the water before another Orc Blademaster fished him out. Without even a backward glance, Samuro used Light Footsteps to dash away from Duke, leaving a faint green trail in his wake.

Blast it all! My reputation!

Duke wasn't sure what the system's incessant prompts about Kul Tiras's "revered reputation" and Daelin's "full favorability" were for. All he knew was that he certainly didn't mind using his power to build up some serious street cred with the Alliance.

Arcane Energy Storm. This move truly made him feel like he was going for broke. Overloading his already powerful arcane circuits was not a job for mere mortals. The chaotic energy was hot, wild, and utterly insane. Duke felt a stinging, burning sensation spread through every inch of his body, leaving him unable to even walk straight. No more Mr. Cool Guy act; Duke could only stand there, swaying like a drunken sailor, and wait for Kul Tiras to send a rescue party.

Originally, Duke figured he'd be stuck on that ice floe for a good five minutes, twiddling his thumbs. But then, a vision appeared: a beautiful blonde female high elf, shimmering with arcane light. She arrived with a series of continuous Flashes, landing lightly and gracefully beside Duke.

"Are you... Lady Goldenblade?" Duke recognized her as the mage who often accompanied Daelin.

Gina gave Duke a slight nod. "Come!"

Instantly, Duke felt the frost elements around him surge. Whoosh whoosh! In theory, Gina was continuously casting Ice Cones, but Duke felt like he was riding an air cushion. The ice beneath his feet was the boat, and the ice cones behind him were the propulsion system. It had taken Duke this long to realize that, at a high-level mage's skill, the Ice Cone spell could be cast continuously and used as a personal leaf blower. Looking at Gina Goldenblade, Duke really wanted to say, "Here's my knee for today, please keep it."

Thanks to the Kul Tiras court mage, Duke was safely aboard Daelin's battered flagship in a mere three minutes. Admiral Daelin, leaning on his scimitar, offered Duke a weary smile. "Haven't had a good workout in ages. Glad to see my skills haven't gone to pot. But that orc blademaster? He's a real piece of work. Five more years on me, and I might have bought the farm."

Gina shot Daelin a fierce glare.

Just then, the distant roar of artillery fire reached them. Clearly, the ships sent to block the orc transport fleet had engaged the enemy.

"Let's head over there too. If there's anything else to hash out, we'll do it after we've finished this damn war." Duke was surprised by Daelin's words. From what Duke gathered, it sounded like Daelin wasn't going to let bygones be bygones with his old nemesis, the Bloodsail Fleet, who he'd been at loggerheads with for years.

Duke gritted his teeth. "The Alliance won't let any enemy of mankind off the hook. Likewise, the Alliance won't give anyone who works for us a raw deal." This was Duke's subtle way of saying he was preparing to give Duke Farrell a one-way ticket to the afterlife.

"Alas!" Daelin sighed, clapping Duke on the shoulder. "Duke, I'm not that rigid. When humanity's extinction is staring us in the face, what does my personal beef matter? I'm just trying to tell you, you don't know Farrell well enough."

Duke's eyes widened in sudden realization: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

That feeling was incredibly strange. Duke couldn't quite put his finger on it, and frankly, he didn't have time to play guessing games. The Horde's green tide was coming again. If they didn't want the entire northern continent to be swallowed whole, they first had to use their regained naval advantage to thin out the orc numbers at sea as much as humanly possible.

A significant number of male Nagas had also been positioned below Palatine Bay, helping Duke get a headcount on the orc warships. The numbers that came back were pretty staggering. Over 25,000 transport ships, big and small. At least half of them were empty vessels, used as bait, with no more than ten orc laborers aboard. Even so, operating over ten thousand empty ships would require at least a hundred thousand hard laborers. Only a tribe that valued life as cheap as dirt could resort to such a brutal, inhumane fighting method.

Just as Duke boarded Daelin's warship and followed the Kul Tiras First Fleet to join the blocking action, a bombshell dropped: those transport ships that had stormed out of Palatine Gulf hadn't all headed for Southshore. They'd split into three distinct groups on the open sea. About 40% veered west, expected to land on the Southshore coast. Another 40% continued directly towards Southshore. And the remaining 20% plunged resolutely into the long strait between the northern and southern continents.

Duke felt a chill run down his spine. His worst nightmare had come to pass – the orcs had divided their forces!