Stormwind Wizard God-Chapter 472: Charge

A while ago, a large number of knights were sent to raid Grim Batol Fortress, but they failed and the consequences began to emerge. The death of a large number of elite knights forced Mograine to promote more knight candidates to knights.

In Mograine's view, the lack of experience of many people is a minor matter. Look at the Fifth and Sixth Legions of Lordaeron next door, many of the guys who became commanders are simply trash who tarnish the name of knights, because most of them are stuffed in by the nobles. This is the compromise that Terenas had to make with the nobles in the country.

The reason they can still maintain a strict formation is purely because the soldiers under their command are the most elite who have experienced the Battle of Silverpine Forest.

Getting closer.

Getting closer!

Getting closer!

As the armies of the Alliance and the Horde approached this land that had become scorched by the scorching heat, the obviously hot air began to turn cold and heavy.

This is just a trance illusion.

However, this illusion is not pleasant, and the high temperature in the Burning Canyon makes people very uncomfortable.

On the contrary, the orcs led by the Blackrock Clan found it commonplace.

Standing on a large rock at the forefront of the army, almost all orcs could see their chieftain and the Doomhammer that seemed to be a symbol of this scorching earth.

They began to believe the words of the chief.

Even though rows of human warriors in shining helmets and armor were approaching them in orderly steps;

Although the spears held high by humans were as dense as a forest, and each spear tip flashed a dazzling cold light;

However, when their Warchief shouted out the words that had echoed in the orcs' blood for thousands of years, words that seemed to have a mysterious power and were extremely sacred throughout their lives, every orc got an answer to this war.

What is the answer?

"Lok-tar, ogar!"

right!

Either victory or death!

"Lok-tar, ogar!"

Two hundred and fifty thousand voices, combined into one, echoing throughout the Burning Canyon.

Led by their Warchief, the once still green ocean began to surge the most wildly!

That is the strongest fusion of the wills of 250,000 people!

That was also the survival roar of a desperate race!

Faced with such a terrifying reputation of the orcs, Mograine and Anduin were both deeply shocked.

This battle is at stake!

Mograine shouted at the top of his voice: "Catapults and trebuchets fire first. The First and Second Heavy Cavalry Regiments counterattack! We must suppress the enemy's momentum!"

Using one's own trump card right at the start is undoubtedly a very failed start.

Mograine had no choice.

Because he saw the spearhead troops at the forefront of the Horde - Orgrim and his ogre guards, and more than ten chiefs with extremely terrifying combat power.

That is definitely not an opponent that an ordinary shield formation can resist.

Anduin also became nervous: "Tell Duke! I need his red dragon army, now! Immediately!"

After the message was sent, Anduin raised his hand and said, "Storm Royal Knights, Silver Hand, follow me!"

After saying this, he immediately galloped away on his horse.

"We have to catch up! Red Dragon!"

In fact, Duke called the air force earlier than them. However, since no red dragons were arranged to come in beforehand, the few red dragons in the wasteland would take more than 20 minutes to fly over even if they were fast.

The heavy cavalry of the Lordaeron people filed out from both sides of the front formation, and after quickly forming a spearhead formation, the horses began to accelerate and trot on the battlefield. The knights held their heads high and chests puffed out, with their spears pointed down in rows.

Soon, a silver wave appeared at the forefront of the battlefield. It was galloping with the momentum of thousands of troops, ready to collide violently with the terrifying green wave.

Black crossbow arrows rose obliquely from the human formation and poured down towards the orc formation with a density that was enough to cover the sky and the sun.

Mograine could imagine that in a dozen seconds, countless holes would appear in that green ocean, causing the frenzy to stagnate.

Something that no one had expected happened. Suddenly, the sound of crossbows was heard from the orcs. A large number of strange crossbow arrows were shot out.

Duke, who was on the right side and following the dwarves, was stunned: "Holy crap, isn't this the propeller of a helicopter?"

The thing shot out really looked like a propeller. The wooden stake-like crossbow shot out by the orcs flew into the air. Due to inertia, the spiral wing attached to the crossbow arrow was lifted up and began to rotate at high speed driven by the rushing air.

The next moment, like a razor, most of the crossbow arrows fired from the air at the orc infantry were shaved into countless pieces.

Humanity's crossbow...is ineffective!

"This... this must be the work of our distant Dark Iron Dwarf relatives." Magni muttered.

He was right. Orcs only knew some rough and hard things. Such a low-tech but extremely effective war machine definitely could not be invented by orcs.

This also meant that the charging heavy cavalry lost their cover.

"Axe!" Orgrim, who led the charge, did not forget to give the order.

The orcs began to take off the short axes tied to their waists. They were the throwing axes specially prepared by the Dark Iron Dwarves for them. Even though each axe was as big as the axe used by humans to chop trees, for the tall and strong orcs, it could only be used for throwing.

The axe was made of black iron and was quite crude, but with the orcs' natural strength, it could be thrown over 50 meters easily.

The flying axes, as dense as raindrops, made a sharp and terrifying whistling sound. They spun in the air one after another, drawing shocking arcs, and attacked the charging heavy cavalry.

The heavy armor of the Lordaeron people, which could easily withstand a rain of arrows, became meaningless. Hundreds of pounds of impact were concentrated on the narrow axe blade. Whether it was the iron-clad kite-shaped shield or the plate armor over five millimeters thick, they could not withstand the terrifying power of the thrown axe.

"ah!"

"don't want!"

"Mom, I don't want to die!"

Anyone who was hit would be thrown back four or five meters and fall heavily to the ground at best, or be dismembered in an instant at worst.

Broken horse heads and legs, human limbs, and shattered lances were scattered everywhere less than thirty meters away from the orc vanguard.

Among ten heavy cavalrymen, only one or two at most can rush to the orcs.

Yet they were little better than their comrades.

The ogre's long-handled warhammer, which was over three meters long, was no different from the heavy cavalry's lance under their long arms. A faster and more violent counterattack often resulted in the latter being the first to arrive.

Before the lance charge taught by their senior knights could arrive, they were caught in a gust of violent wind and were blown away along with their horses.

One can imagine how terrifying Orgrim's guards are, as they can smash a man and a horse weighing nearly a thousand pounds with just one hammer.