"For the chief, for the tribe … Ah!"
"Bang!"
Accompanied by a gunshot that sounded like it came from the sky, the Orc captain who was still lecturing a second ago was shot in the head and laid dead on the ground.
"Ahhh!"
"Captain! Captain is dead! "
The group of Orc recruits panicked.
Five hundred meters away, the sniper and observer who had completed their mission quietly put away their 98k sniper rifle. To make it easier, the sniper removed the suppressor and disappeared into the rocky mountain under the cover of the night.
The Orc hunting team that arrived ten minutes later couldn't find anything.
"Impossible! They should be here! "
"My warg can't smell anything."
"Damn, if only the Trolls were here."
The Orcs missed the Trolls a little. After all, they were the best hunters and trackers.
Three hundred meters away, the sniper team that had just caused trouble was hiding in a camouflage net. They were surrounded by powder that specifically targeted wargs. The two people who were at a disadvantage suppressed their laughter until the Orc hunting team left. They then started talking.
"Boss, it's the twentieth one," the observer said.
"Yeah, did you see that guy's nameplate?"
"Yeah. Boss will probably get promoted when we get back. "
"I don't want to get promoted. It's more fun to play sniper in the enemy's rear." The sniper smiled and showed a palm that was missing a middle finger. The calluses on his hand proved that he used to be an excellent archer. Normally, he would have retired a long time ago without a middle finger.
He was worthless in the old army since he couldn't pull a bowstring. Here, he could still be an excellent sniper.
"Hehe, boss, it's a pity that we can't snipe the enemy's officer!"
"Yeah! Centurions and above are all professionals. Unless they hit the throat or something … Last time, I sniped that guy's head three times and I couldn't even penetrate his skull … "
This scene was only a microcosm of the countless battles between the Alliance and the Horde.
In the field of normal soldiers, the Alliance had the absolute advantage. With modern rifles, cannons, and other hot weapons in hand, dealing with tribal soldiers with axes and hammers was like cutting chives in a field. They could kill them however they wanted.
Against professionals, the effect wasn't as obvious.
If the Alliance did not send out professionals, they would often be hit directly by large-caliber cannons, or forcefully suppressed to death by more than one continuous fire cannon, such as 40mm octuple cannon, Bofors machine cannon, etc.
Overall, apart from the especially conservative Night Elves, the Alliance had an absolute advantage on all fronts.
And this was under the premise that the Alliance hadn't quickly mobilized their flying fleet over.
That's right, the Alliance had purposely pulled back their flying fleet.
This was common sense in modern military affairs.
If there was enough strategic depth, no commander would place their elite troops on the frontlines. On Earth before Duque transmigrated, the frontlines were always the second-line troops.
Because once they were bombarded by the enemy's cannons, the troops at the front would become cannon fodder. The elites would always hide in the back and only come out when the horn of counterattack was blown.
On the continent of Kalimdor, the Alliance's flying fleet was deployed in Darnassus in the northwest, and in the southwest, in the depths of the Silithus Desert, which was guarded by insect swarms.
Theramore had less than two hundred old flying warships, which didn't have the upper hand against the Horde's air force.
After all, in the past three years, the Horde had been smearing the walls, either by buying or stealing, and had gotten a lot of second-hand flying warships that had been eliminated by the Alliance. Although most of the equipment was removed during the elimination, they could still fight with some modifications.
The Horde used five hundred steam-powered flying warships to 'surround' more than two hundred Alliance warships.
"Sir! Why can't we fight freely! The Horde's broken toys can be taken care of in one round. "
"Sir! The soldiers below are generally complaining that it's too stifling. "
"Sir …"
As the fleet commander, Admiral Taylor slammed the table. As a new officer in the Alliance, he was also quite ambitious. At the age of thirty-eight, he was in the prime of a commander's life.
He wouldn't become slow because of old age, and he had more than ten years of military experience.
From Northrend to the Cataclysm, Taylor had been promoted from a small captain in Stormwind all the way to Admiral, and he was deeply trusted by William.
However, he didn't expect that William would actually give him such a difficult mission after the war had started.
A week ago, William called for Taylor.
As soon as Taylor entered The Storm, he was surprised to see a few big shots of the Alliance. Apart from William, there was also Jaina, the Bronzebeard Brothers, and Aurelia.
"Tyler, the Alliance has an arduous task for you," William said solemnly as soon as he started the conversation.
"I promise to complete the mission!" Admiral Taylor stood at attention and puffed out his chest.
Now, a week later, he f * cking regretted it.
This mission was too f * cked up.
They could only lose, but not win. Furthermore, they had to win by making both sides pay a considerable price.
The problem was that the Alliance was practically riding on their faces. How could they lose!?
In terms of military strength, the Alliance was currently the strongest in the Southern Continent, followed by the Rotterdam Continent, and finally Kalimdor. The Night Elves and Draenei didn't develop modern air forces, so they could only pick the weakest from Rotterdam.
Since the Dark Portal, Rotterdam had never been weak.
Alterac was the wealthiest, and their warships were the best. Those 250-meter-long giant cannons with 460mm caliber main cannons were terrifying enough to scare people to death.
The Stormgardians had inherited the ferocious habit of the Mountain Knights during the Torrential Fortress era. They fought without any regard for their lives. Once they went up, they couldn't hope to come back. Either they completely destroyed their opponents, or they were completely destroyed.
The Dalajan didn't play with technology.
In the end, the Gilneas Air Force was chosen just like that.
In order to keep it a secret, the higher-ups didn't reveal that they were going to fake their defeat.
Who knew that ever since they returned to the Alliance, the Gilneas would recover from the destruction brought about by the Cataclysm. They were also full of energy to prove themselves.
Under the supervision of the old Alpha Wolf, Gene, the Gilneas soldiers trained hard.
As soon as the battle started, a volley of main cannons blasted one-sixth of the opponent's airship down.
This was because the Gilneas didn't have money. Live ammunition was still rare, and they could only use the expired cannonballs produced by the Alliance to test fire. In the end, they only had a 23.6% hit rate for the target from three thousand meters away. Otherwise, the wooden-hulled warships at the back would really be no match for the Alliance.
What the hell was the opponent? The fleet didn't have the upper hand, and less than half of the cannons used TNT gunpowder. Many of the cannons didn't even have the brakes installed properly. When they fired, the deck of their own ship caved in.
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