Stormwind Wizard God
Chapter 782: War

Chapter 782: War

According to legend, Duke had a special liking for high elves. Thirteen years ago, he took in the eldest and third sisters of the Windrunner sisters at once, which was praised as a good story in the Alliance.

There are also rumors that he has a close relationship with Queen Sylvanas, and some even say that Duke was the one who helped the Windrunner’s second sister become the queen.

But no one knew that Duke was so cruel (enviable) that he captured all three Windrunner sisters, including the Queen of Sin’dorei.

Although they were suspicious, all the blood elves present were stunned.

"Second sister, you..." Lirath’s brain was a little frozen. She had never thought that her three brothers-in-law were all the bastard Duke.

Liadrin was even more confused: Isn’t it rumored that Duke is having an affair with Her Majesty Calia, the Queen of Lordaeron? Although I’ve also heard that he has an ambiguous relationship with His Majesty Proudmoore, this is the first time I know about his relationship with my own queen. It seems that I have to treat Duke as the husband of the queen in the future.

Next to them, Jaina was feeling very unsavory, with a strange feeling of all five flavors in her mouth. Her eyes were full of complexity as she looked at the two of them.

After ten full seconds, Sylvanas finally let go of the dazed Duke: "Hey, I’m still willing to kiss you even though you stink so much, it turns out we are truly in love!"

Duke was so embarrassed! He just remembered that the smell on his body had not yet completely faded.

As if to declare to the world that Duke was her property, Sylvanas playfully patted Duke’s face and said, "Okay, we all know that you just overdrew your magic circuits a little bit. You should have a good rest. If you really can’t bear it, someone will come to ask for instructions."

After that, Sylvanas tilted her head and said, "Vanessa, please clean this guy up. I don’t want him to still stink the next time I see him."

"I will obey your will, Duchess." Vanessa was respectful on the surface, but in fact she pushed Sylvanas without hesitation. She was clearly saying: I don’t recognize Her Majesty the Queen. Only the true mistress of the Edmund family can order me. You either become a Duchess or get out.

Sylvanas perked up. She was not hostile, but rather had a faint admiration: "Well, not bad! Only a maid like you can protect and take good care of my man. I leave it to you."

"Yes!" Vanessa responded with impeccable etiquette.

Everyone dispersed like a tide, leaving only Duke and Vanessa.

Duke: "Vanessa, please go out for a moment. I need to take a shower."

The former maid, now the royal maid, had a blank expression on her face: "Don’t be ridiculous. His Majesty Proudmoore has already told me that you have just overdrawn almost all of your magic power. You can’t even move a finger without forcing your body to move with the limited magic power. If you keep pretending, it will not be good for your body."

"Uh..." Duke was so embarrassed when the truth of the matter was suddenly revealed!

But, is it that Vanessa is going to help him take a bath?

Oh - no - such a beastly, oh, welfare thing, how could it be possible for it to happen to me?

Hehe, if you don’t see it, you won’t know that the little maid who didn’t have a very hot body back then has already...

Cough cough!

Duke, who accidentally lost his moral integrity, was obviously thinking too much.

"Don’t worry. In order to prevent you, the beastly Duke, from suddenly going wild while you’re injured and doing something inappropriate to violate your lovely little maid..." Vanessa recited the shameless words seriously while ringing a golden bell in her hand.

"Ding-dong!"

There was a noise, and four beautiful but strong maids rushed in from outside the door.

Damn, just by looking at the locations of the calluses on their hands, you can tell that these so-called maids are all guest appearances by female knights, female swordsmen, etc.

It was obvious that they had already received orders from many generals or queens. They took off Duke’s stinking robes and clothes without saying a word, then pressed Duke into a large bucket filled with suitable warm water, and hurriedly brushed Duke with large brushes and soap as if they were brushing a copy.

"Help... Help... Where..." The miserable Duke only saw Vanessa laughing evilly beside him.

Are you a spy or my maid?

After finally finishing all the work, Duke was like a broken puppet, lying on the clean bed in an extremely uncoordinated posture.

Blowing up Oro’s heart and escaping at the end did indeed overdraw Duke’s magic power. Before his magic power returned to normal, Duke did not dare to relax his perception too much. After all, long-distance elemental perception also requires the use of magic power.

"How’s the situation outside?"

Vanessa acted like a loyal and obedient maid, and answered gracefully, "As you expected, my master, the camp at the foot of the mountain has come under special attack. The night elf sentinels and blood elf rangers are delaying the undead army, but they will soon engage in battle with the defenders on the mountainside."

Duke had a cross-shaped vein on his forehead. "Can you please stand closer when we talk? You clearly despise me!"

"Haha! Master, you are overthinking!" Vanessa covered her mouth and laughed secretly, saying, "How could I dislike you? I am your most loyal maid. Even though you have silently abandoned me for ten years and I have been accompanying and protecting your legendary girlfriend, Her Majesty Menethil, my loyalty to you has never decreased."

Your sister!

You are obviously speaking sarcastically, right?

Do you dare to swear on your moral integrity that you have no resentment?

What are you doing standing ten meters away, pinching your nose and talking to me in a soft voice?

Still standing at the door as if you are ready to run away at any time?

Damn it! If I were really a great noble of this era, you would have been killed first, then "swooshed", then "swooshed" and killed again, a hundred times, okay?

Why are other people’s maids all so gentle and willing to be life mentors for noble young masters, but I am just a maid, yet I am so troublesome?

Duke felt like he had been screwed.

"Okay, okay, get out. Since you want me to rest, I’ll have a good sleep." Duke sent Vanessa away in a bad mood.

Duke was also exhausted. Fighting Oro at this point in time was definitely a heavy burden. He fell into a deep sleep, but before he fell asleep, he inadvertently expanded his perception and heard Vanessa’s words.

"Lord Rhonin, although Mount Hyjal is indeed important, I have always believed that my master is the last hope of this world. If the defense line is in great crisis, please be sure to open the portal to send the master away. If Stormwind City is not safe either, even if we reopen the Dark Portal, sending the master to Draenor is better than letting him die here." Vanessa’s voice was sonorous and powerful, and there was unquestionable majesty in her words.

"I understand. The teacher’s safety is the most important thing." This was Rhonin’s humble voice.

Duke sighed in a daze: Well, this is my good maid...

The Burning Legion is coming!

With the astonishing momentum of a raging wave.

Even the most imaginative coalition soldiers never thought that the Burning Legion’s first wave of attack would be like this.

Without the druids’ encouragement, the giant trees surrounding the camp at the foot of the mountain had already withered rapidly. The giant trees that once took several people to hug, although not as dry as dry bark, had obviously lost their strong and fresh vitality.

Originally, the orcs wanted to cut down all these woods and place them in front of the first line of defense of the camp on the mountainside to serve as deer antlers, build an arrow tower or something. At Duke’s insistence, all the orcs have retreated to the camp on the mountainside of Mount Hyjal. Only a handful of two thousand elves are left, monitoring and delaying the enemy near the peaks on both sides.

Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling sound from underground.

That was the sound of some huge tide rolling and rushing.

Every night elf and blood elf looked at each other, no one knew what would happen.

But to be on the safe side, Tyrande’s deputy Melander and Lirath, the commander of the front-line blood elf rangers, simultaneously ordered their people to climb over the hill and hide behind it, leaving behind a dozen people to continue monitoring.

Sure enough, three minutes later, the enemy appeared.

It was a spectacular super fountain. Engulfed by indescribable black liquid, thousands of undead were sprayed directly from underground into the sky, and scattered in all directions along with the black droplets.

The already dilapidated camp was once again ravaged. Undead of all sizes were sprayed into the sky, and then accelerated down again under the effect of gravity, slamming everywhere.

The smallest were zombies with only half of their bodies left, the bigger ones were ghouls, and the largest were stitched abominations weighing several tons. These monsters, which had long lost their lives and had almost no intelligence, attacked the surrounding buildings before they could even get up.

What appeared before the elves and the few troll scouts was a crazy undead army. They bit the wooden arrow towers with their broken teeth, chopped the half-broken earth walls built by the orc laborers with rusty machetes, and bombarded the wooden walls of the camp with their huge arms.

The black fountain continued to gush, spraying more and more undead troops into the entire abandoned camp without paying.

In the distance, a black cloud suddenly floated over. It was thousands of gargoyles, as well as a number of huge death ice dragons with white bones and a frozen aura.

The earth was covered with dust, which was a mixed army of one hundred thousand undead and demons.

At this moment, the tribal leaders such as Thrall and Vol’jin, who had retreated to the mountainside, all had black faces.

If Duke had not repeatedly emphasized that they should evacuate, and they really continued to hold on at the foot of the mountain, their only outcome would probably be annihilation.

There were zombies constantly breaking through the center, thousands of enemy flying troops entangled above, and a large army pressing in from outside. It was estimated that the remaining 20,000 to 30,000 elite tribesmen would all be killed here.

Thrall quickly called over a night elf priestess who was in charge of communication. He pointed to the live broadcast in the magic mirror and said, "What if the giant bugs continue to make holes in Mount Hyjal’s defenses?"

The priestess puffed out her chest and spoke in a not-so-fluent human common language: "Don’t be afraid. Mount Hyjal is a holy mountain, blessed by the magic of the night elves for ten thousand years. The mountain itself is extremely difficult to penetrate. If there are no more giant bugs of the same level as before, we don’t have to worry about attacks from underground."

"What if there is more!?" Thrall emphasized.

The night elf shook his head: "According to the Alliance commander, His Excellency Edmund, there is only one giant worm called Oro even among the four ancient gods of Azeroth."

"What if the enemy’s air force flies directly to the top of the mountain?"

The priestess was very sure: "The Holy Mountain has a powerful magic circle that prohibits flying. Anything that is more than 300 yards above the ground will be attacked by the Sunshine Mage at all times. Even a demigod cannot withstand such an attack. And once you start to climb the mountain, except for the main passage, all places are death zones."

Thrall finally felt a little relieved. Now he only had to defend the front.

At this time, Thrall saw the elves in front begin to withdraw. Because of the terrain, the undead army looked very turbulent, but it was always some distance away from the elves.

The area within 200 meters behind the elf troops is an absolute death zone.

The elves ran in the mountains and woods with great agility, and from time to time they turned around gracefully and shot an arrow directly at the head of the zombies or ghouls rushing in front.

The elves fought and retreated, arrows rained down, but they still couldn’t stop the zombie tide that numbered in the tens of thousands.

Here we come!

Thrall raised the Doomhammer in his hand high: "Prepare for battle!"

After coordination, the first and second city walls on the mountainside were given up by the Alliance and guarded by the Horde.

Thrall’s shout immediately caused the entire valley to echo with the unique war cry of the Horde: "lok-tar!"

The orc warriors had just lost their camp for no reason not long ago, and their chests were filled with rage. They raised high the steel axes and hammers that had been baptized by holy water in their hands, and let out roars full of fighting spirit.

At this time, the black tide was very close.

"Covering fire! Number one firing element - fire!" Behind the first wall, there was a full 100 dwarf mortar squads. The thick and round barrels immediately emitted a deafening sound.

"Bang bang bang!" No matter what, it was difficult for the orcs to adapt to the somewhat dull sound coming from behind them, and some orcs even subconsciously shrank their heads.

But the dwarves’ elite gunners were no exaggeration. The mortar shell flew into the air, drew a beautiful arc, and then flew farther down the mountain. That was exactly two hundred meters behind the elf troops.

"Boom, boom, boom!" The small-caliber mortar shells are enough to blow the zombies and ghouls with weaker defenses to pieces.

The dwarves’ cover was so accurate that Thrall breathed a sigh of relief. He and Vol’jin, who was preparing to let the trolls throw spears as cover, quietly put down their hands.

It’s ironic when you think about it. Although they are of the same race and origin, the elves and trolls have been fighting for tens of thousands of years. Have they ever tried to protect each other like they are doing now?

When the last elven ranger rushed into the city gate at high speed, the twelve minotaur warriors could not wait for the winch to slowly pull up the moat, and directly pulled the thick iron chain with brute force to pull up the suspension bridge.

Looking at the seven huge horizontal trenches in front of the city wall, each more than eight meters deep, blocking the entire mountain road like a roadblock, Thrall felt his scalp tingling. These were the masterpieces of the dwarf’s steam bulldozers.

Fortunately, the one that ran into them was a zombie who didn’t know what fear was...

From another perspective, if he were to use a large army of orcs to attack this place, how many lives would be required to fill these ditches?

The frenzy of the undead army is too terrifying.

Mortar shells hit the zombie swarm, and each shell could blow dozens of zombies into pieces, either with their heads smashed and they died completely, or with their bodies mutilated and unable to move.

The zombies, who had little rationality left, stretched out their arms and sprinted aimlessly up the mountain. Some of the zombies, whose legs were missing, were pushed to the ground by the zombies behind them and could not get up again. Even so, they still waved their rotten and mutilated limbs, crawling like dogs or using both hands and feet, and rushed up the mountain madly.

If the zombies in front are too slow, the zombies behind will roll and crawl over their companions and continue to charge.

At this time, Brian Bronzebeard, who was behind the third city wall, was fiddling with his new gift - the strange insect-shaped musket - with great satisfaction, while glancing at the zombies’ position with a little impatience.

"Parim Golden Hammer!"

"Here!" A dwarf officer holding a sledgehammer and wearing rare golden armor responded on the spot.

"Fixed target! Number one shooting elements! Three groups of Small Cannons provide covering fire! Don’t be lazy. Even though we are covering those damn orcs, from another perspective, we are also letting them relive the taste of the battle of Blackrock Mountain." Brian’s smirk quickly spread among the dwarves.

"hey-hey!"

"Hehehehe!"

Fifteen years is almost a generation for human beings.

But for the dwarves, whose average lifespan is at least 800 years, fifteen years feels like just last month for humans.

Every dwarf warrior still remembers the shame of being blocked at the doorstep by the Bleeding Hollow Clan, and not even being able to go to their own front garden, Dun Morogh. There is no musket hunting full of dwarven romance, and no time to go to various mining sites to collect the treasures underground...

The dwarves are very unhappy about having to cooperate with the Horde.

Orcs and the like were once slaves of the Alliance. Now they have nowhere to stay and can only flee across the ocean like stray dogs.

Why cooperate with those damn greenskins?

The dwarves were quite clueless.

If this order had not been issued by Duke, the Alliance commander who had fully supported the Bronzebeard dwarves in their most difficult times and who had never lacked food and medicine, the dwarves would have already shot that guy in the face with muskets filled with black powder but without bullets.

"Why are the Dark Iron Dwarves’ faces black? They turned black after we smeared them with muskets!" This is a clumsy dwarf joke, but it also reflects from the side that if you don’t have some merits in the Alliance, you will not be able to control these violent dwarves.

Well, with great fun, Brian specially picked out the Little Cannon that beat the Horde into a pulp in the Burning Canyon!

The small steel cannon that shone so brilliantly in that battle was actually built in large numbers later. Who knew that after the battle of the Scorching Gorge, it would no longer be used. At one point, the Watchtower in the Cursed Land had a maximum of 36 small steel cannons.

Later, with the changes of the times, the small steel cannon was replaced by the more powerful Little Duke Cannon.

Dwarves never lack iron ore, but it is quite troublesome to recycle these finished products. As a result, so many small steel cannons can only be placed in the warehouse to play with dust.

This was a rare cross-sea battle, so Duke specifically asked the dwarves to bring small cannons, and also made it clear that they would be able to adapt to the tactics and abandon the cannons at any time.

It was just outdated rubbish, so Brian was happy to obey. Who would have thought that it could be used to scare orcs?

As expected, it could be clearly seen on the third city wall that when the huge sound of the small cannon rang out, many older orc warriors were almost frightened.

This is a nightmare that spans thirteen years of time and space.

Every old orc who was captured in the Burning Gorge remembered the shame of being forced to surrender by the terrifying dwarven artillery fire...

"Those bastards!" Upon hearing the dwarves’ laughter on the back hill, which seemed to be suppressed but was actually unbridled, Varok and Brox, two veterans who had experienced the first and second battles of the Dark Gate, were immediately furious.

Thrall was just delighted by the powerful artillery support from the dwarves when he discovered that some of his extremely brave old orc warriors were acting unnaturally. "What’s wrong?"

"Alas!" In the end, it was Grom, who had gone through the war but did not personally experience the final battle in the Burning Gorge, who told this story to Thrall.

"What!? Are you sure this is the Small Steel Cannon that destroyed the last orc army?"

Thrall was silent. Although the relationship between the Alliance and the Horde had shown signs of warming recently, the damage they had done to each other in the past was too deep. The Horde had certainly massacred a large number of humans, dwarves, and high elves. The Alliance had also destroyed the Troll Empire and enslaved the orcs.

This is already a mess.

"Pass the order down. Our enemies are only the living enemies in front of us. Don’t be distracted by those small details. We must use military exploits to prove the glory of the Horde!"

When the tribal warriors calmed down, they found that the dwarf’s artillery fire was still very powerful.

Under the sunlight, numerous huge black shells were falling from the sky, landing accurately on the seemingly wide mountain road that was hundreds of meters long, and the shrapnel with sparks ignited the empty land. They screamed over the sky above the two huge city walls, creating a hellish scene in front of the orcs.

Thrall suddenly understood why the orc predecessors who he thought were so brave had lost their minds and become prisoners.

This is simply not a weapon of destruction that a mortal can resist with his physical body!

If you don’t become a professional, there will be no chance of surviving an attack of this magnitude.

Logically speaking, nothing should be able to escape from this kind of attack where a single shell could leave nothing alive within a hundred meters.

But Thrall discovered that he was wrong.

A large number of stitched monsters, abominations, made of countless corpses, actually crossed the line of fire and rushed to the bottom of the city wall despite the artillery fire that seemed to be able to destroy the world. You know, that place is a blind spot that cannot be reached by artillery fire.

"Attack!" Vol’jin’s command rang out, and behind the widened shooting holes, the trolls stretched out their long arms and shot out steel spears one after another.

These terrifying spears, which were powerful enough to kill a minotaur with one spear, were unable to stop the Abomination’s movements for even a second.

These monsters, whose faces were smashed and shot through, didn’t care whether their eyeballs were still there or not, and they used human ladders under the city wall, using their own flesh and blood to build a sloping passage that was strong enough to climb over the 15-meter-high wall.

"Let the dead rest in peace!"

Thrall swung the Doomhammer in his hand angrily!

With a roar, the huge black square-headed hammer in Thrall’s hand burst out with a ball of scorching light like a small sun.

A huge abomination pounced on Thrall with its arms open and was hit on the head.

He looked like a big fat man, with a waist circumference of at least five or six meters. Under the hammer, the seams on his body burst directly, and hot flames flowed out from between the pieces of flesh that were sewn together.

The next moment, the huge body was torn into pieces on the spot.

Originally, Thrall thought he was quite violent, but he was suddenly frightened by the loud roar in his ears.

That’s Cairne Bloodhoof.

This burly Tauren chieftain, who is a full circle larger than Thrall, is at the youngest and strongest age.

An extra-large totem pole that was large enough to be used as the main beam of an orc barracks swept across, and two abominations that were rushing towards him were blown in half. He picked up the lower body of an abomination and swung it out effortlessly, like bowling and also like a cannonball, knocking down dozens of abominations that swarmed towards him.

Even Grom, the roaring master who killed an abomination with an axe, was staring at this scene in amazement.

The place chosen by the dwarves to build the wall was naturally the narrowest and steepest part of the mountain road. It was about 200 meters long, which sounds very long, but in fact, it was extremely narrow for a battlefield.

Excluding the taller and stronger bastions protruding from the city wall, the actual length of contact with the enemy is only 150 meters. Guarded by the chieftains of each tribe, whether they are ordinary soldiers or elites, they will kill as many as they can.

Seeing the number of the undead army gradually increasing, Vol’jin waved his hand, and the orcs on the bastion immediately worked hard to shake the pump handle up and down, using the FFF flamethrower that once frightened the Horde on the undead.

The city defense version of the flamethrower is even more insane. The improved kerosene is clearer and has a higher combustion ratio. Because of the 45-degree mountain slope and the upper hand, the flames can easily be sprayed a hundred meters away.

After several rounds, the eight bastions had turned the narrow mountain road into a flaming inferno.

The blast from the small cannon and the spray from the flamethrower meant that even if an elite abomination occasionally rushed up covered in flames, it could only be defeated by a single blow from an orc centurion or a minotaur warrior.

Grom held Gorehowl in his hand, and his eyes seemed to travel through time and space, returning to that magnificent era of war.

Once upon a time, the battlefield between the Alliance and the Horde was dominated by strength, skill, and courage. It was an era when the elite of the Horde who had experienced the war with the Draenei showed off their military power wantonly.

Until a human named Edmund Duke appeared out of nowhere and completely changed the landscape of the battlefield.

His little invention, the F flamethrower, prevented the 100,000 elite soldiers of the Warsong Clan from advancing an inch in the Silverpine Forest area. They had to rely on the Blackrock Clan, who were naturally more resistant to fire, as their main force.

Unexpectedly, thirteen years later, it is now the orcs’ turn to use fire to deal with the Scourge.

"Be careful!" Varok suddenly shouted.

Everyone suddenly discovered that there were several huge abominations with frost all over their bodies. They rushed through the dead zone of the shells, waded through the sea of ​​fire, and made their way to the city wall.

"Use Incendiary bombs!" Thrall gave the order decisively.

At the back of the city wall platform, the orcs hurriedly and roughly threw the metal-shelled iron lumps out. Then, when the so-called incendiary bombs were thrown into the sea of ​​fire, a more intense burst of flames suddenly broke out.

The high temperature there was so high that even the orcs standing in the upwind direction felt unbearable, not to mention the hatred in the sea of ​​fire.

The extremely high temperature caused his fat body to keep "losing weight", and the essence of the corpse was still fat and bones. As long as the fire was strong enough, the hatred itself was a huge combustible material.

After finally breaking through the hatred of the frontier purgatory, I was defeated just like that.

"Haha! If the Burning Legion is at this level, I can easily hold out for a week, let alone three days and three nights." A young orc warrior became proud.

It was as if a slap in his face. In the distance, there was a dark mass and a large number of gargoyles began to fly over at the no-fly zone.

Thrall’s face darkened. "Let the brothers who were once wolf riders prepare to cast the nets."

At this stage, the Horde is extremely poor and doesn’t even have many wyverns. How can they possibly use them to fight against the thousands of gargoyles of the enemy?

Fortunately, the special features of Mount Hyjal reduced the climbing height of the gargoyles, otherwise this battle would not have to be fought. In fact, the only effective long-range weapons of the Horde, besides the net, are the inefficient javelins in the hands of the trolls.

Of course, the Horde still has shamans.

It’s a pity that Shamans are so rare, they are all precious treasures, and they are afraid that they will melt in the palm of your hand. Except for going to the rear to treat the wounded, Thrall will not let Shamans go to the front line until the last moment.

At this time, Brian’s Giant Insect Larva musket on the third city wall accidentally went off.

"Bang!" A loud gunshot startled the surrounding Alliance soldiers.

Brian didn’t blush, his heart didn’t beat, and he said nonsense: "You don’t understand! I fired the gun as a signal to tell you that it’s time to load the Type 3 Bullet."

The so-called "three-type bullet" is also Duke’s bad taste. When he proposed this idea, he did not expect the dwarves and midgets to research it.

It’s just that the dwarfs are not afraid of your big imagination, but they are afraid that your imagination is unreliable and wastes a lot of materials.

Duke, who seemed to have a big imagination and was reliable, was naturally the god of invention among the dwarfs. During the ten years when he was away, the dwarfs regarded Duke’s ideas as the "Duke Bible", developed the "Three-Type Bullet" and put it into mass production.

The dwarf version of the Type 3 Bomb uses a large artillery shell with many burning bullet heads inside the shell. Taking the caliber of the small steel cannon as an example, the shell is one meter in diameter, three meters long, and weighs 1,360kg. There are 996 to 1,200 sub-munitions in the shell, and there are multiple caliber versions such as the small steel cannon and the small Duke cannon.

Once it is launched, it will be like flowers scattering from the sky. No matter how many air forces there are in that area, they will all be wiped out.

What?

You ask why not just use scattered bullets, such as grapeshot from a cannon?

Grapeshot has a short range and can’t hit far!

What’s more, if they fire from behind the orcs, and the shells cannot bypass the city wall in front and hit the orcs, the Alliance and the Horde may start fighting on their own before the Burning Legion can arrive.

Just as Sar was preparing to hold on, the small steel cannon that had decimated their predecessors opened fire again. This was different from the big cannon that exploded only when it hit the ground.

This is a beautiful cone of fire that explodes directly in mid-air like fireworks.