Chapter 553: Chapter 553: The Failed Charge
The recent audacious knight raid on the Grim Batol Fortress ended in failure, and its repercussions were beginning to manifest. The death of many elite knights compelled Mograine to promote a large number of knight-candidates to full-fledged knight status.
To Mograine, the inexperience of many was a minor concern. Looking to the neighboring Lordaeron 5th and 6th legions, he saw many commanders who barely upheld the honor of knighthood, mostly nobles thrust into roles due to King Terenas' compromises with the internal nobility.
Their current formation was held solely because of the elite soldiers from the Silverpine Forest campaign under their command.
As the distance closed between the Alliance and Horde, the scorching heat of the Blasted Lands seemed to become chillingly cold, an unsettling illusion. To the Orcs, led by the Blackrock clan, this heat was trivial. Atop a large rock, all could see their Warchief, Orgrim Doomhammer, wielding the Doomhammer, symbolizing the land's fury.
The Orcs believed in their Warchief's words. Even with the Alliance's shining armor and spears gleaming in the sun, the call of their chieftain stirred an ancestral cry within them, echoing their undying mantra: "Victory or Death!" This unified roar of 250,000 resonated through the canyon.
Under their Warchief's lead, the green sea of Orcs surged forward, their collective will manifested in a frenzied charge, roaring with the desperation of a race seeking survival.
Mograine and Anduin felt the profound impact of this warcry. This battle was now in jeopardy.
Mograine shouted, "Crossbows and trebuchets, fire first! 1st and 2nd Cavalry, counter-charge! We must curb their momentum!"
Anduin urgently conveyed, "Tell Duke! I need his Red Dragonflight, now!" Raising his hand, he commanded, "Stormwind Royal Knights, Silver Hand, with me!" He spurred his horse forward, hoping for the Red Dragons' timely arrival.
Duke, already in the right flank with the Dwarves, had called for air support earlier. However, without prior arrangements for the Red Dragons, their arrival from the Barrens would still take over twenty minutes.
The Lordaeron heavy cavalry emerged from the front lines, forming a wedge and accelerating. But as they charged, their crossbow bolts, meant to shield them, were deflected by the Orcs' innovative spinning blades, seemingly inspired by helicopter rotors. "That's... that's a rotor blade, right?" Duke exclaimed in disbelief.
This unexpected Orcish innovation meant the charging cavalry lost their cover. "Axes!" ordered Orgrim, leading the charge. Orcs unsheathed their throwing axes, specially made by the Dark Iron Dwarves. Despite their size, the Orcs, with their natural strength, hurled them over fifty meters.
The axes, crude yet brutally effective, tore through the knights, their heavy armor no match for the axes' force. The battlefield was soon strewn with casualties.
Fewer than one or two in every ten knights reached the Orcish frontlines, only to be met with a harsher fate. The ogres, wielding long-handled maces and with a reach almost equal to the knight's lances, countered fiercely.
The might of Orgrim's elite ogre guard, capable of launching both rider and steed with a single blow, was evident.
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