"Damn it! Most of those Orcs are elites that have been eliminated through cruel battles, "one of the generals muttered, revealing the truth.
Duque rolled his eyes.
If you don't want to die, why do you still want to die?
You're so stupid that instead of killing them all, you're helping them train their elites. With Terenas's intelligence, even if he doesn't die, it'll be a waste of oxygen!
Fortunately, he was stabbed to death by his son. Otherwise, Duque wouldn't want to clean up the mess for Lordaeron.
I don't care if you destroy the Northern Continent, I'll just guard my Stormwind. Anyway, I don't have to go guard the World Tree … right?
You want me to take the blame for Lordaeron's sins?
Do you think it's easy for me to trick some elite troops?
Beside him, a large group of Lordaeron generals saw Duque's eyelids twitching. He looked like he was going to lose his temper at any moment. None of them dared to make a sound.
The Dalajan City was under attack. Logically speaking, the 80,000 elites from the Scarlet Cross should be able to help the Dalajan defend against the Scourge. What they were afraid of was that the Orcs would arrive as soon as the humans sent reinforcements!
Duque took the note filled with information about the Orcs and read it three times. Then, he laughed coldly. "You Lordaeron people can do this too. Only send 3,000 people to guard 10,000 Orcs? Then all the Orcs in the coliseum, with Brayer as the center, ran out, but didn't report it because of Arthis's' Victorious Return '? Even the Warsong Clan that hasn't been wiped out is here? "
Duque's cold laughter was like a whip lashing on the faces of every Lordaeron general. It was an invisible pain that made their faces burn.
Most of the generals lowered their heads.
This was Terenas's fault. As long as they still wore the Lordaeron epaulette, they would have to bear it.
At this time, Reynold's weak voice sounded. "There are only 10,000 Orcs in Goldenhold Castle …"
His father, Alessandro, was furious. "Bastard, you have no right to speak here!"
Duque raised his hand and stopped Old Mograine.
"Kid, although I'm only half a generation older than you, when it comes to military matters, you don't have the right to speak." Duque immediately saw the unconvinced expression on Reynolds' face. Duque laughed as well. "Ten thousand beastmen? In fact, it was definitely more than that. The extra ones were secretly sold to the arena by the guards. That's why there are at least 15,000 Orcs who hate humans. "
As soon as Duque finished speaking, the faces of all the generals of the Rotterdam Kingdom turned sullen.
Corruption!
Filthy!
And he acted recklessly.
It was a great taboo for military strategists to advance without knowing the strength of the opponent.
Normally speaking, even the most well-trained recruits would be easily swapped for three Orcs. The Orcs' title of "Warrior Race" was not just for show.
If the number of Orcs attacking Goldenhold was 30,000, then even Mograine's 80,000 elites wouldn't be enough.
At this time, Duque raised a second finger: "Secondly, the number of orcs in Goldhold right now isn't thirty or fifty thousand. It's at least 100,000! "
This news was like a bolt out of the blue!
Mograine and the others were all dumbfounded.
100,000? Where did 100,000 come from?
"How many Orc laborers do they have?" Abbendis asked tentatively.
"Zero." Duque sighed. "And they're not ordinary second-tier tribes. They're definitely the elite warriors of first-tier clans."
"What!?" Old Mograine and the others paled in shock.
As people who had experienced the second Battle of the Dark Portal and had been fighting the remnants of the Horde for many years, they knew the difference in combat power between Horde elites and second-tier clans.
Abbendis asked in shock, "Where did the 100,000 elites come from?"
Duque spread out the intelligence and pointed at the battle flags drawn by the scouts. They recognized all the other flags. The only one that stood out was the [Warsong] Clan's flag. And Duque was pointing at another flag that they were extremely unfamiliar with.
"This is the Frostwolf Clan. It used to be the fourth clan in the Horde after the Blackstone, Warsong, and Bloodring clans. Other than having fewer people, their combat power is definitely top-notch. "
"Frostwolf?" Everyone was extremely unfamiliar with this name.
Duque said slowly, "It's normal that you don't know. Because in the first year of the Dark Portal, this clan was exiled by the first great chief Blackhand and the Warlock King Gul 'dan when they first arrived in Azeroth due to political disagreements. They secretly crossed the entire southern continent, crossed the sea from the Gulf of Paladin, passed through Hillsbrad, and lived in seclusion in the depths of the Alterac Mountains. "
"How many elite Orc soldiers does the Frostwolf Clan have?" Mograine asked.
"No less than 50,000."
As for how many there were, Duque did not know either. Since the Frostwolf Clan had not been besieged in the past 15 years, it was expected that Thrall, who had returned to his ancestry, would receive the support of the Frostwolf Clan. 50,000 was already a conservative number.
Every general who had experienced the second Battle of the Dark Portal frowned deeply.
Not to mention saving the Dalajan, they would not even be able to protect themselves.
The evil Undying and the Orcs, who were filled with hatred towards humans, were enough to massacre the entire continent.
Sitting at the head of the table, Queen Kalia looked left and right. Even if she knew nothing about military affairs, she knew that things were not good.
Unknowingly, everyone's gazes were cast on Duque.
They were looking at this mysterious commander who had annihilated millions of Orcs more than a decade ago with less than a third of the enemy's forces.
If it was someone else sitting in this position, it would certainly be a hopeless situation.
But he was different.
He was Duke Marcus – a living legend recognized by the three races of the alliance!
"Since everyone regards me as their commander, I will naturally lead everyone to a path of survival …" Duque's youthful face was filled with confidence. The powerful aura of someone who could guide the world and play with the enemy in the palm of his hand made the hearts of the three women palpitate.
Kalia, Illucia, Sari … They all revealed looks of worship.
At this very moment, Goldhold Castle.
"No, don't kill me – no –"
The last human guard was torn apart. The Orcs, who had been tortured for who knew how many years, tore off the guard's hands, feet, and head like a doll, turning them into pieces of meat.
"Hahahaha! Hahahaha – "The Orc, whose face was covered in blood, laughed maniacally.
"Long live Thrall –"
"Long live Orgrim –"
"Long live Grom Hellscream –"
The Orcs cheered to their hearts' content, raising the crude weapons in their hands high to show off their strong muscles.
Thrall, holding a blood-stained battle axe, was equally excited.
Even he had suffered for far, far too long.
The whipping of the humans seemed to still be burning in his back.
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