Chapter 77 The Gate of Darkness (End)

Anduin Lothar stands on the top of this isolated island.

Looking at the series of bunkers that were newly built on both sides of the mountain road, Anduin didn't know what to do. He didn't know how effective this temporary line of defense would be.

"We have prepared one month's rations, more than 150,000 arrows, and 1,000 sets of spare armor..." the logistics officer was reporting to Anduin.

But Andu was restless because of this.

The logistics are not strong, there is no way to do it, we can only hope that the weather will improve in the future.

"If it can be delayed until midsummer, the road should be much easier..."

However, the scene on April 3 made the entire Stormwind Kingdom's high-level officials lose their voices.

The nobles also sent many people to participate in this war. Either a brave man like the Duke of Bolvar Fortagan, or he was forced to be sent to the front line by his family, or he was seeking political capital. Anyway, on the two unnamed peaks of Red Ridge Mountain, there are two dukes, four marquises, and eleven earls of the Stormwind Kingdom, and the middle and lower nobles are even more difficult to count.

In front of these nobles of the Stormwind Kingdom who have been at ease for nearly a thousand years, what is reflected in their vision is an extremely terrifying and barbaric army.

At first, the sound of shouting and killing was like a distant frolic in the morning mist. But when that green line appeared on the opposite mountain, the sky-shattering sound waves and violent drumming sounded like huge waves. The sound was so loud that it felt like someone was chopping the eardrums of every nobleman present with a knife and axe.

The green flood easily dyed the entire mountain opposite, and there were countless green giants. They are burly, wielding a mess of primitive weapons, and their terrifying numbers easily surpassed the psychological tolerance limit of the nobles.

Ten thousand people here? Or 100,000 people?

The green tide dyed the several mountain peaks on the opposite side, and the battle line it unfolded easily surpassed the entire vision of the nobles. Let alone three or four mountain peaks, it felt like it would be impossible to accommodate such a battle line if it was stretched ten times longer. As many orcs attacked at the same time.

They pushed each other, and even punched their compatriots who blocked their progress. But there are so many of them that it would drive any trypophobe crazy.

The green torrent is so crazy that it seems to engulf everything in its path.

Lothar gritted his teeth, as if he wanted to record every orc flag with his own eyes. Unfortunately, he could only give up after copying the third ghostly symbol-like flag.

There are too many flags and they are too messy. Even if the orcs are holding the flags of the same tribe, because of the bad drawing, it seems that these are the flags of several clans. Only the "smart orcs" can clearly distinguish which clan it is With which clan.

There is a large canyon between the V-shaped twin peaks and the opposite mountain. After repeated calculations by Lothar, it was just within the reach of human bows and arrows.

Lothar was very confident that that place would become the enemy's deathbed. Now, Lothar changed his face.

The soldiers in the bunker on the mountainside did shoot a lot of arrows, and the overwhelming arrows did hit the orc vanguard.

But few orcs fell.

Did the bow and arrow miss?

No! Hit!

It did indeed hit the target.

But what did Lothar and the nobles see in the binoculars?

A crazy orc.

They saw with their own eyes that at least twenty arrows were shot in the chest, shoulders and face of an orc. However, the green-skinned orc swung his arm in front of him as if chasing away a fly, forcefully throwing those arrows away. The arrows were all swept down or pulled out and remained on the ground.

His right eye was already blind, his flesh had been opened, and the arrows hooked out large chunks of flesh and blood, leaving his entire upper body with more than ten huge blood holes the size of his wrist.

But the orc still charged forward crazily. He roared and charged towards a blockhouse, and with his huge hammer several times larger than a human head, smashed the outer wall of the blockhouse made of bricks and stones, smashing a howling The soldier dragged out of the bunker, and in front of the remaining defenders of the bunker, he tore the soldier in half.

The soldier didn't die on the spot. Amidst the wild laughter of the orc, the upper body that lost its lower body crawled several meters on the ground before dying.

This scene made Lothar and the nobles shudder.

All the fortifications, like sand castles on the beach by the sea, collapsed when they were washed by the huge green waves.

Let the arrows go!

Orcs are tough.

falling rocks...

Lothar saw with his own eyes that a stone the size of a millstone fell, and it was about to smash an orc who was rushing up the mountain into a meat paste. Do you know what happened?

The orc used his arm thicker than a cow's leg to smash the boulder with one swing of his fist!

The storm soldier who saw the stone throwing was in a daze. In such a daze moment, the orc had already crawled in front of the soldier extremely quickly, stretched out a huge and thick arm, grabbed the soldier's hair and head, and pulled the soldier to the ground. Outside the parapet, I lost it down the mountain.

The laughing orcs on the mountainside cut the soldier in half with an ax the moment he fell past.

This provoked an even bigger laugh from the orc.

Orcs are a bunch of bloodthirsty and warlike lunatics!

Anduin Lothar's face turned blue. He knew that anyone could see that the army of the Stormwind Kingdom had to retreat, and the war was irreversible.

"Order, the whole army retreats!"

There is nothing wrong with the order to retreat. In the current situation, as long as the commander is a bit more rational, he will know that there is no way to fight. But how to withdraw is also a question.

If everyone disperses in one, two or three, the retreat will turn into a rout. Under the urgent pursuit of the energetic orc army, it will easily become a rout. Only ten soldiers who can finally return to Stormwind City Not one.

All the nobles cast their burning eyes on Lothar's handsome but painful face.

Lothar said almost gnashing his teeth: "It is the Griffin Legion that is broken!"

On the blue and gold banner, a golden griffin holds a sword in each hind paw. This is the Griffon Legion.

The First Legion of the Stormwind Kingdom in the eastern region of Elwynn Forest.

Its history can be traced back to the descendant of Emperor Thoradin, the founder of the Stormwind Kingdom, who led the people to move southward and led the direct guards when they came to the rich Elwynn Forest.

It once participated in the first Stormwind Kingdom's founding war. At that time, Elwynn Forest was far from being as peaceful as it is today. There were still a lot of trolls in the forest back then. It was the brave battle of the Griffin Legion that drove the trolls all the way south, across the Duskwood, and to the miasma-ridden Stranglethorn Vale.

This is a legion that inherits the iron will of the founding king.

However, today, at this moment and here, Lothar wants to bury it in this hopeless post-war battle. It's not because he insists on keeping those damn noble private soldiers, but in the entire army, only the Griffon Legion can complete the final mission.

Any general who knows soldiers knows that no matter how badly a legion is beaten, as long as one tenth of the veterans are left, the soul of the legion can be passed on, and its reputation can continue.

But after seeing this scene in front of him, Lothar knew that the Griffin Legion would disappear forever, its prestige, its proud history, would completely disappear in this boring crimson canyon.

Because, under the siege of tens of thousands of orcs, the human infantry regiment, which was inferior in physical strength, speed, and agility, could not escape the pursuit of the orcs.