After crossing the Sador Bridge and entering the Arathi Highlands, one only had to follow the road that curved towards the west to arrive at the main city of the Stromgard Kingdom, Torrentburg.
As the ancient capital of the Arathor Empire more than two thousand years ago, a thick dirt road that had been trampled by countless people, horses and all kinds of animals for thousands of years, at this moment, anyone who stared at the road would find that the road was shaking.
Not only the dirt road, but the entire land was shaking, as if a waiter was serving a glass of beer to a customer on a tray. No, the entire Arathi Highlands seemed to be trembling slightly.
If one could look down from above, they would see that there were three groups of people running wildly on the road.
The first group was nearly ten thousand infantry and craftsmen from Torrentburg. After a night of rapid marching, they were less than twenty kilometers away from Torrentburg. The highland cavalry of Torrentburg were not far from them, and there were constantly mounted scouts scouting behind them.
Similarly, there were also a small number of Gryphon cavalry joining the scouting ranks.
There were not many people in the middle group, only a pitiful hundred riders and one carriage.
The last group was a sea of green Orcs. At least thirty thousand Orcs were less than half a kilometer away from the middle group, trying to catch up with them and tear them to pieces.
It was not that the middle group was faster, but whenever a Wolf Rider got within three hundred meters of the middle group, there would be a long arrow piercing the dawn. The shining arrowhead was like a black shuttle, and all the light slid past it with a sharp whistling sound. No matter if the person dodged or blocked, they would definitely be shot in the vital parts and killed.
In the back of the carriage, there was a man with a bow. His golden hair was flying, and his green ranger cloak was a flag. That flag represented a name that everyone in the tribe knew – Cirvanas!
And in front of the whole group, there was a knight shining with holy golden light, holding a flag high. The flag's design was very simple. It was a blue storm that looked like a tornado.
To the Orcs, this flag was no stranger.
It represented another enemy of the Orcs, the human mage hero, Duke Marcus.
The Alliance clearly had many other flags, but the simple-minded Beastmen only remembered a few. Duque's Blue Storm Flag was the one that left the deepest impression.
They were so frantic in their pursuit of Duque that they did not even realize that they had already left the mainland and were running towards the northern part of the Arathi Highlands.
The orcs were foolish, but the knights who had just joined Duque were not.
Why did Duque do this? Wasn't it to distract the Orcs and prevent them from catching up with the retreating soldiers of Riptide Castle?
Even if they had sworn their allegiance, their origins would not change. Their memories were still haunted by the deep feelings they had for the Arathi Highlands. In a moment of excitement, the blue Storm flag in their eyes changed. It was as if it had become the battle flag of Thoradin The Great that shone on the battlefield 2,800 years ago.
Duque's slender figure seemed to overlap with the legendary Thoradin The Great.
Just as lofty and great.
Just as selflessness that crossed the boundaries of clans and nations.
For the sake of the future of the human race, he stood at the frontline against the foreign races without complaint or regret.
The eyes of the knights quietly became moist.
Soon, their moist eyes widened in shock.
The sun was high up in the sky. The vast mountains to the north of the Arathi Highlands were already covered by the sun's rays, breaking through the misty morning fog. Everything on the highlands was dyed with golden light. But in the distance, the outline of an incomparably huge human figure could be faintly seen.
"My Lord! We can't go any further. That is one of the few forbidden areas on the Arathi Highlands. There is … "A knight cautioned Duque.
Duque smiled mysteriously. "Are you talking about Fozruk? That's the one I'm looking for! "
The knight was completely dumbfounded.
What? My Lord is looking for trouble with Fozruk?
The sunlight was like a violent giant axe, splitting the clouds in the sky and pouring down on the earth.
On the Arathi Highlands, green grass was everywhere. Spring flowers dotted the entire highland grassland.
But on the grassland, a dazzling bright green covered the natural green of the grassland.
Tens of thousands of Orcs in newly made armor marched side by side. Innumerable crude war flags were reflected in the vision of Duque and his knights.
They were scribbled as usual.
Each of them was painted with symbols that could only be understood by Orcs. From the partridge to the lion, to the axe, to the hammer, to the broken or the good hammer, there was no repetition in any of them.
The only one that Duque could recognize was a war flag marked with a long black tooth.
Blacktooth Clan. After their father, Blackhand, was killed by Anduin Lothar, Rend and his brother Maim insisted that Orgrim was the one who killed their father. They swore to take back the power and position that belonged to their father from Orgrim's hands. Their idea was publicly supported by many Orcs. In order to avoid a civil war and to show that he had a clear conscience, Orgrim acquiesced to all of this. Thus, the Blacktooth Clan was born.
The Blackrock Clan was once the number one clan among the Orcs. They had so many warriors and were so powerful. Even though there was a split, they were still very powerful.
Orgrim took the most elite Blackrock Clan warriors to the Hinterlands, and the rest joined Rend's Blacktooth Clan.
The commander of the southern front, Rend Blackhand, rode a huge black wolf and rode out of the crowd. He was rather confident in his own reflexes and strength. He brought his twelve personal guards and approached Duke Duke and his knights who were lined up in a row at high speed.
Rend Blackhand suddenly stopped a hundred meters away.
"Duke Marcus! Today is the day you die! Seeing that you, a coward, are finally willing to face your death, I will not cut off your head as a trophy of war. The head of a schemer is not worthy of becoming my military medal. "
Duque clenched his teeth and thought to himself, "Damn, I'm really being looked down on!"
Duque laughed loudly. "Hahaha! You want my head? You can talk after you defeat my servant, Fozruk. "
Suddenly, it wasn't just Randall, even the beastmen behind him felt the earth tremble. It was the sound of a single creature's loud footsteps.
To have such heavy and thunderous footsteps, it must be an unimaginably huge creature.
Sure enough, in the Orcs' vision, an incomparably huge stone giant appeared with heavy footsteps.
This giant was 30 meters tall, its body made of metal ore and a large number of stones. Its clenched fist was as big as Rend's tent.
He was the taboo of the Arathi Highlands — Stone Giant Fozruk!
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