Yes! That was Duke Marcus!
Perhaps he wasn't the commander of the Alliance, nor was he the leader, but Duque's role in the Alliance was definitely above those two.
If they killed him, they would definitely be able to stop the Alliance's offensive.
Without this super genius commander who was full of strange ideas, the Alliance was just a bunch of old fogeys who only knew how to fight regular wars. Baron Geddon, the servant of King of Flames, retreated. Before he left, he sent a message from the Flame Queen, 'Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza swore that unless the King of Flames threatens the safety of the world, she will never invade the King of Flames' territory again. '
This allowed Orgrim to see hope again.
Without Duque, Orgrim could defend Blackrock Mountain to the death. With a small number of Horde defending Blackrock Stronghold, he could free up his main force to attack the Elven Forest and chase the humans of Stormwind into the sea again. As long as they could survive until winter, the Horde would be able to breathe. At least half of the Southern Continent would be enough for them to report to the other chiefs.
The ideal was beautiful, but the reality was cruel.
Duque noticed Orgrim's intention. Even though they were a few hundred meters apart, Duque still smiled at Orgrim and waved goodbye.
Duel?
My magic circuits are all broken now. Even moving a finger hurts my muscles. You want me to duel with an angry Warrior Boss?
That would really be laughable.
Of course, Duque didn't care about Orgrim at all.
Everything that needed to be set up had already been set up. Muradin Bronzebeard was at the back with two shields to cover for Duke, while Magni was at the front with two large axes to give orders. On top of the tank, the three Windrunner sisters' six white breasts were swaying around Duque (they were actually shooting at the Horde).
If Duque stopped charging and turned back to duel with Orgrim, then he would be an idiot.
At first, Orgrim thought that he would be able to reach Duque in less than a minute if he gave up on the frontlines.
The funny thing was, when he wanted to rush forward, the tank under Duque had already accelerated. It was obvious that the driver of the tank was driving without a license as well. As he sped along the way, he crashed into countless Orcs and cut open their stomachs, but he still managed to reach a speed of 40 kilometers per hour.
For a steam tank, this was an incredible speed. Of course, it was another matter if the boiler would burn down or not.
While Orgrim was still dumbfounded, Duke's tank galloped off with the rest of the tank squad to destroy the Horde's right flank, which was still relatively intact.
Orgrim had no choice but to turn around. He looked at everything in despair.
The Horde was initially in a good position, but now it had turned from a rout into a fierce battle. In Orgrim's vision, the battle lines that were advancing with great difficulty had become crisscrossed.
Even though there were a few times when the tribal chief led the veterans to attack and almost broke the human line, the strong will of the human soldiers completely subverted the impression that every Horde warrior had of the humans since the start of the war. The Orcs on the right flank attacked with all their might, successfully breaking a huge gap in the formation. However, the Dalajan soldiers, who had never had much will to fight, were unexpectedly fighting with all their might.
If it was before, they would be crying and screaming as the Orcs would chase after them like ducks. But now, it was different. The human soldiers would quickly form smaller circular formations and continue to resist. If it was not possible, they would use all methods to fight back against the Orcs. If their swords broke, they would use their shields to smash them. If their shields were broken, they would use their daggers to stab them. If their daggers were gone, they would pick up the weapons of their fallen comrades. If they could not pick up any more, even if they knew they would die, they would still charge forward with their fists.
Their attacks were neutralized at the last moment, and the Orc army on the right flank was unable to advance for a long time. The battle was extremely fierce. Blood even dyed the dirty black soil red.
"Rustle rustle rustle!" The spear throwers of the Alliance returned. They mustered up their courage again and almost reached the back of the shield swordsmen. They threw their spears at the Orcs no more than twenty meters away from the front line.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!" The FFF flamethrower team also arrived. Under the guidance of some experienced commanders, they gave up on attacking the Blackrock Tribe's Orcs and turned to find the new green-skinned ones.
Orgrim panted heavily, but his heart was cold.
The sharp javelins started to cover the sky, and the black earth started to be covered with more Beastman blood. Countless Beastmen brandished their weapons and rushed past their Great Tribal Chief.
However, Orgrim soon heard countless screams of despair and anger. He seemed to want to stop the tribe from falling into the abyss of failure, but he found that it was useless.
"Great chief! We can't go on! What must we do!? " Leksa killed an Alliance warrior with his axe and rushed over. There were no more beasts around him.
Orgrim stared at the Orc who had helped him block Duque's attack in Grim Batol. Kashdrak was dead, and Leksa relied on his ogre bloodline and his strong body to survive. Now, Leksa, who had saved his life, was the captain of his guards.
Orgrim smiled. "Yes, we must do something."
The tribe, which had been repeatedly weakened, was like a dilapidated wall, blocking all the light and all the hope. That's right, the Tribe's first policy of massacre was to dig a grave for themselves. Perhaps it was possible to defeat a single race like the Draenei, but against the wider Azeroth, it was suicide.
Orgrim had always strived to change, to find a way for the tribe to flourish and prosper. In the haze, Orgrim seemed to see the light of dawn penetrating through the dark wall and peeking through the hole in the decaying wall.
He really wanted to see the scenery behind the wall, but before that, whether he would be crushed under the wall and die, or push down the wall, see a more beautiful scenery, and usher in a more perfect new life, all depended on his final struggle.
Who!?
Who else could help the Tribe turn the tables?
Suddenly, Orgrim saw a group of Knights rushing into the battlefield.
The flag with the head of a lion was so dazzling that Orgrim would never forget it. It was the Golden Lion Flag of Stormwind.
Stormwind was the first kingdom that the Orcs conquered after coming to this world.
Now, it was the counterattack of this kingdom that had lost its capital that put the Tribe in a desperate situation.
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