When Arthas heard the naval battle report, his expression was unexplainably odd. He had merely mentioned it casually, without intending for Daelin to take it seriously.
He had just offered a reminder out of respect for his future father-in-law's face. Unexpectedly, Daelin executed it so perfectly; it was known that in the storyline, Daelin was blasted by three red dragons, and even his son was burned alive on the spot.
Now he surprisingly survived and even forced the orcs to change their landing point. Because there were too many mines, Orgrim could only order an assault by landing from the land.
"Where is this?" Orgrim looked at the mountainous area surrounded by highlands, which was different from the expected landing site.
"Warchief, we should be in the Bay of Faldir. It should only take a day to reach the human kingdom Stromgarde from here," Gul'dan said ominously from the side. He should have been executed; Orgrim kept this traitor who had dragged the orcs into a vortex only because he considered the tribe lacked the means to deal with mages and priests.
Once the war ended, he would personally end the traitor's life. Such a dangerous element could not be allowed to remain!
"The entire army, march north!" Orgrim thought little of it; it was a good time to attack.
His plan was to engage in a decisive battle with the Alliance forces on the plain. If they could break through the enemy's lines, that would naturally be best. If they could not break through, they would cooperate with the forest trolls, rescue their leader Zul'jin, and then flank north to attack what they called the elves and plunder resources.
Finally, they could launch a surprise attack on the capital of Lordaeron while the Alliance forces were caught off guard, directly eliminating the most powerful kingdom! It must be said that Orgrim's strategic vision was uniquely distinct, even among the orcs.
Most orcs had muscle where brains should be and lacked strategic insight, not even having basic education. Upon receiving the news, King Thoras of the Stromgarde Alliance headquarters became somewhat restless,
"The orcs have landed in the Bay of Faldir; we must reinforce Stromgarde, as there are not many troops there."
Commander Lothar also agreed after analyzing the intelligence, "Then we must leave part of our troops stationed here; the orcs could still potentially raid Southshore Town."
"Let's stay here; we are more familiar with this place," King Perenolde of the Alterac Kingdom jumped out first to secure this assignment. He had always been a timid king.
If the army followed the Alliance into battle, it would deplete the already limited soldiers. Even if the orcs were repelled, his kingdom would still have to guard against annexation from other kingdoms. What resistance power does a kingdom without troops have?
"That's fine, Your Majesty. If Southshore Town is raided, you must hold Southshore Port and wait for Alliance reinforcements." Lothar also guessed something; this was not the time to nitpick these issues.
"No problem," Perenolde readily agreed, feeling secretly pleased as long as his soldiers were not depleted. If a war were to truly break out, he promised to retreat at the first opportunity, and regarding other kingdoms? They would have to fend for themselves.
"Then we will immediately support Stromgarde; full army, launch!" Lothar decisively issued the order; it was absolutely impossible to ignore cries for help, and the Alliance must be maintained.
At Stromgarde, the few soldiers, led by the prince, were struggling to fend off the attacking orc army. The civilians outside who could not retreat had been slaughtered, their bodies cleaved in two, and their deaths were extremely tragic; even children were not spared.
The garrison on the city walls felt their hearts sink; many of them had relatives among the slain!
"Kill!" the garrison captain roared, "To avenge the slain civilians!"
Boom boom boom! The orc soldiers charged towards Stromgarde against the backdrop of battle drums. The few catapults behind them hurled stones the size of grinding wheels. At times, they smashed the garrison soldiers who could not dodge in time into a mixture of flesh and blood, monitoring them as they flew.
Only a pitiful amount of magic could be cast within this metal storm, hardly playing any role. "War Chief, beyond Stromgarde is Dunhold Manor; that's where our leader is," an excited green-skinned forest troll exclaimed, eager to bypass the city before him to rescue their leader.
"I know; my soldiers will soon finish the battle," Orgrim planned to summon the dragon riders to assist, although the Dragonmaw clan had not yet captured many red dragons; a few red dragons could not make a significant impact.
However, having witnessed an entire fleet turn around and flee upon seeing a dragon at sea, he believed red dragons posed a great deterrent to humans. Even if they could not inflict significant damage, they could still terrify them and shatter their courage!
The battle situation had gradually become deadlocked; the soldiers of Stromgarde could not hold on much longer, with most of their forces concentrated on defending Southshore Town. However, there was no retreat behind them, so no garrison soldier surrendered; they would rather die in battle than face death on the run.
Boom!
The city gate collapsed, and the hearts of the garrison soldiers at Stromgarde instantly wavered, as the houses were filled with terrified civilians clutching their heads, trembling in fear. Everything felt like the apocalypse was arriving; only death awaited!
"Attack!" A trumpet sounded from the distance, and a large group of Alliance cavalry charged in, the swirling dust obscuring their numbers. With heavy armor, sharp lances, and cold eyes, they looked like reapers. "Block them!"
Orgrim grunted, "Grom, go block them!"
"Yes, Chief," a muscled orc rushed forward with his clan to intercept the cavalry.
If Arthas were here, he would certainly recognize this as the very orc who had cleaved the demigod Cenarius in half with an axe—this was Grommash Hellscream! The faith of the warriors! Blocking the charging cavalry with infantry was utterly reckless! If the high-speed charging cavalry collided, even orcs would be thrown.
Boom! The two streams of steel collided fiercely; in one encounter, hundreds of orcs in the front row were pierced through the chest by lances and flung into the air, the cavalry crashing into the rear unrelentingly. Puchi! Grom swung his axe hard, cleaving one cavalryman and horse in half.
His bravery incited the orcs' fury, and having consumed demon blood, the orcs would fall into a berserk state. Ignoring fear of pain and death, they charged at the cavalry, determined to take a piece of flesh from them even if it cost them their life!