Actually, before he made up his mind to attack the Alliance's camp in the north of Lordaeron, Orgrim had considered a choice. That was to ignore the camp and go around it from the north.
Then, the chief gave up.
Firstly, the Alliance's camp was too big. It was at least 10 kilometers wide.
Secondly, further north, for some reason, was a swamp that stretched for at least 20 kilometers. Of course, Orgrim didn't know that his scouts had encountered a swamp spell created by an Elven Mage. Also, the swamp behind them was just an illusion. After losing the support of Gul 'dan's magic, the Horde became blind in this aspect.
Orgrim could only choose to either break through the Alliance's camp or go around 60 to 70 kilometers to get to Grom's Warsong Tribe.
Obviously, taking such a long detour was a very dangerous choice when there were strong enemies around. This was a round trip, a round trip. It wasn't strange for thousands of troops and horses to charge out of the Alliance's camp midway.
Orgrim chose to attack the camp.
The Horde attacked the Alliance in a calculated cone-shaped formation.
In the middle were the Ogres and the elites of the Blackrock Tribe. On the flanks were the Trolls.
After a lot of sacrifices, the Horde's attack smashed the Alliance's line of defense like a sledgehammer.
The Elven Rangers of the Alliance fought back with all their might. However, even with the help of a large number of [Kill Three Thousand] mines, they could not stop the advance of the Horde army.
The dazzling light from the explosions lit up the eyes of more Orcs. The unfortunate vanguards seemed to be surrounded by all sorts of colorful flashes that disrupted their optic nerves. They were then dismembered by all sorts of magic. Of course, they died.
Many Orcs who were still breathing let out pitiful cries on the battlefield.
However, the Orcs could also hear the sound of wooden walls being smashed by giant hammers. Under the violent attacks of the Orcs, the wooden walls that were as tall as two people were reduced to countless pieces of wood that flew in all directions.
"Lok-Tar!" An earth-shattering roar resounded throughout the battlefield.
When the first wall of the camp collapsed, a loud roar came from the tribe.
Victory was in sight!
According to the Orcs' understanding of humans, there would not be many walls in a camp. Usually, with only three walls, they would definitely be able to reach the core area.
The Orcs sacrificed five thousand of their elites to reach the second wall.
After another violent demolition, the second wooden wall also collapsed.
This time, the Orcs waited for the magic attack that they both wanted to see, but also did not want to see.
On the wooden tower a hundred meters away, the long robes of the High Elven Mages could be clearly seen.
When the magic array floating in the air shone with a radiant light, it shot out beams of light and heat, forming a chaotic flow of flames that swept through the entire Beastman army.
At the same time, over a thousand sharp arrows stirred up a storm and rained down on the Orcs.
It was as if a Gate of Hell had formed on the side of the second city wall. Any Beastman that dared to step into that domain would be sucked into the Kingdom of Death.
Crimson red, orange, brilliant yellow, emerald green … Rays of exploding magic light stimulated the Orcs' eyes. Coupled with the deafening sound, it was enough to drive any new soldier crazy on the battlefield.
Mobilizing over a hundred Sky Mages to bombard a single area was undoubtedly a waste.
It had to be said that this tactic of concentrating firepower on one area had never failed since ancient times, and this time was no exception. The Magic Turbulence Vortex that was continuously produced caused heavy casualties on the Horde's side. At the same time, it also created a terrifying and embarrassing atmosphere.
It was like pouring a bucket of ice water on the enemy's head when they were celebrating their victory, extinguishing their flames of arrogance.
Orgrim grabbed Sabek's breastplate.
"Behind us is the main camp of the Alliance. Disperse the troops! Spread out your attacks, don't attack the enemy's strongest point. "
For a moment, the tribe's soldiers seemed to want to retreat, but suddenly, under the command of the middle-level commander behind them, they gave up and moved horizontally to both sides.
However, this was exactly what the Elven Ranger wanted.
It turned out that when the Orcs charged at them fiercely, the Rangers might not be able to replenish their arrows and catch their breath.
Fighting in a minefield sounded as exciting and high-spirited as dancing on the tip of a knife. In fact, it was only when they started fighting that they realized that it was not as easy as they had imagined.
That's right, the Elves would not explode when they stepped on it.
The problem was, if an Elven Ranger did not notice the approach of an Orc, and the Orc stepped on [Kill Me Three Thousand] and exploded not far from the Ranger, the magic did not have eyes, and it would still affect the Ranger. The Trolls also knew how to throw spears.
Shooting arrows required concentration.
Looking at the whole situation required concentration.
This was not an easy thing to do.
Even among the elites of the Windrunner Family, more than a dozen people died because of a mistake.
Of course, this was much better than fighting with the Trolls in the forest without any cover.
The Horde who avoided the magic bombardment and took a detour did not know that they had actually drawn the lower part of the map.
The High Elven Mages stopped casting spells and retreated to rest, leaving the battlefield to the Rangers.
Since there was no need to dodge, the Elven Rangers on the third wooden wall rained arrows down on the Horde who had spread out. According to Queen Sylvanas, it was as easy as hunting.
However, the Horde had a simpler and more violent way to avoid the arrows.
This group of barbaric fellows actually used more than a dozen Orcs to lift the entire wooden wall with brute force, using the huge wooden wall as a shield and pushing deeper into the camp.
When one Orc was killed, another Orc would immediately take the wooden wall.
The Elves were dumbfounded by this violent way of breaking through. Apart from the few Rangers who had stepped into the realm of heroes, the other Rangers could not do anything against such a huge 'shield'.
Duque had no choice but to let Marian do it.
As a top-level Mage who could be considered a weapon of mass destruction in any country, the Radiant Moon Marian easily created one explosive fireball after another without even aiming.
Since her surname was Firewing, she was naturally a disciple of the Five Fireball Church.
The frenzied flames painted oil paintings of blood and fire on the battlefield. Usually, the explosion of a large fireball meant that hundreds of Orcs would lose their cover and die in the Rangers' hunt.
After the Orcs paid the price of a thousand deaths, the third wooden wall finally collapsed. Orgrim would not let go of this opportunity, and gave a simple but powerful order to the entire army.
"Attack!"
Logically speaking, the main camp of the humans should be behind the three wooden walls. The Horde's sacrifice of seven thousand was worth it. They charged forward with all their might, longing to do what they did in the Elven Forest — when the giant axe smashed through the weak door of the human house, what awaited them was the defenseless inner room.
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