Chapter 363: Chapter 363: Invasion of Quel'Thalas
Foreknowledge is priceless, and there's no such thing as a medicine for regret.
Seeing Duke's forces retreat so smoothly, Orgrim was filled with regret.
Along the way, he had to forcefully suppress the warlike orcs to maintain their stealth. The blood of demons gave the orcs great strength and physique, but it also heightened their belligerence.
These were a group of untamed subordinates.
Maintaining the orcs' bloodlust and destructive desires came at a high cost to the Horde.
If Duke had engaged in battle, even if the Horde lost, Orgrim could have smoothed things over. But now, Duke's army was as slippery as an eel, refusing to engage in direct combat, leaving Orgrim with no way to deal with him.
Duke was clearly trying to wear down the Horde.
Now, with the orcs and trolls newly allied, there were many frictions and unresolved minor conflicts. To unite different forces and races, there needs to be a common goal, non-conflicting interests, and most importantly—victory.
Any new organization needs to be nurtured by victories and successes to grow.
Why was Duke able to quickly gain a high reputation in the Alliance? Because Duke was a consistently victorious marshal.
Orgrim couldn't promise the trolls and then delay attacking the elves. On the contrary, the longer the delay, the more advantageous it was for the Alliance.
East of the holy city of Stratholme was mostly desolate land. Even if the Horde turned the world upside down here, it wouldn't have much impact on Lordaeron. Moreover, once the cleanup in Hinterlands was completed, Duke would receive the support of 20,000 human elite soldiers and an entire Wildhammer dwarf gryphon air force.
Duke was taking advantage of this.
Unfortunately, while Duke's calculations were precise, Orgrim was even more ruthless.
Looking at the empty human camp, every orc warrior's face was filled with resentment and unwillingness. In contrast, the trolls' eyes were mostly filled with disdain and slight mockery.
Orgrim roared loudly, "Do you all see? This is the cunning humans! They never dare to face the brave orcs head-on. They are despicable, cowardly, shameless, and lowly! But they have made a fool of the brave orcs! Can we tolerate this?"
"No! Absolutely not!"
"We absolutely cannot tolerate it!"
For a moment, the crowd was in an uproar, and tens of thousands of orcs roared together, raising their weapons to vent their anger.
"I need a brave general to undertake a dangerous sabotage mission for the Horde! Who will it be!?"
Immediately, more than a dozen generals stepped forward.
However, Orgrim ultimately chose Noggar!
Noggar, known as the 'Flesh Ripper'!
This was a general from the Warsong clan, known for his bravery and ferocity! When he first came to the world of Azeroth, he was just an insignificant soldier. Now he was a general.
Where did his military exploits come from?
Ask those human soldiers who were torn to pieces by him!
In his hands, at least three champion knights were torn alive. These warriors who were once proud in the human world became part of his terrifying legend.
Orgrim opened the detailed map captured from the humans, "I need you to select the most ferocious ten thousand orc warriors to destroy here, here, and then meet us here. Can you do it?"
Noggar's eyes were filled with a bloodthirsty light, "No problem, Warchief."
The next morning, Duke could only smile bitterly.
The Horde had the advantage in military strength, so they had the privilege to divide their forces. A detachment of ten thousand orcs was neither too many nor too few. If Duke wanted to fully engage them, his army of thirty thousand would have to change course.
But if he ignored them, that wouldn't work either.
Because Orgrim clearly grasped Duke's, or rather the Alliance's, weakness—the Alliance was always a union based on different kingdoms. The Alliance was not like the Horde, where the Warchief had a clear hierarchical relationship with the chieftains of the various clans.
The Alliance, especially the current Alliance, needed to take into account the interests and feelings of the people of each kingdom.
Now that detachment was bypassing Duke's army of thirty thousand and heading straight for Darrowshire in the south of Stratholme. In addition, a separate squad was heading for Maris Farm to disrupt the food production of Lordaeron.
Upon hearing this news, King Terenas was almost scared out of his wits, sending three magical messages in an hour. Duke was annoyed to death.
"Why doesn't magical messaging have a block list?" Duke rubbed his brows, thought for a moment, and still set up a mental barrier. Now, no matter who sent a magical message, Duke wouldn't receive it.
He also gave a task to the system sprite: how to develop a magic version of a block list.
In the end, Duke decided to scare Terenas.
"After assessing the situation, I believe that the Horde's main force is preparing to attack Stratholme. Therefore, I can only prioritize the Holy City and temporarily give up attacking the Horde's detachment." Duke lied with his eyes wide open. Jandice, who was responsible for transmitting Duke's messages and bearing the brunt of the complaints, rolled her eyes but still sent the message.
To bear the political pressure of the Alliance's leader was not something an ordinary person would dare to do. One can imagine the difficulties and accusations Duke would face afterwards.
"Send orders! Evacuate all towns in the region, including Darrowshire, and have the people hide in Caer Darrow of the Barov family or in Stratholme. Send orders! After Simos clears the remnants in Hinterlands... hold the predetermined position and establish the Northern Fortress."
This was entirely for her Quel'Thalas, at the cost of most of the towns in the region being burned down, except for Stratholme. Alleria pursed her lips, silently gripping Duke's hand tightly.
On May 18th, the Horde's main force finally left human territory and entered Quel'Thalas.
"Silence, or die!" Zul'jin warned his subordinates in the sternest tone.
They were quickly crossing the forest into Quel'Thalas.
Even though they hadn't reached that damned forest with magical protection yet, Zul'jin didn't mind starting with an appetizer.
His keen senses were reminding him that the elves were not far ahead.
He slowed down, stepping softly and agilely on the trees. Zul'jin's movements were so silent that it was hard to imagine that this was a troll over two meters tall. His large yet seemingly slender body had an unimaginable softness and agility. Zul'jin didn't touch any leaves or branches.
He held his axe, imbued with the spirit of the beast, and lightly 'flew' from one tree to another.
He didn't want the elves to know they were here yet, at least not now.
He and his Amani trolls silently watched a twenty-man elf border patrol team walk into their ambush.
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