What is a master tactician?

Battlefield tactics are ever-changing, but no matter how they change, they are still the same.

At the end of the day, tactics are all about four words———— play to your strengths and avoid your weaknesses.

Your infantry is well-trained, so you can stretch the mountains and fields to show bunkers, build artillery towers by the mountains and rivers, and use infantry arrays to move forward.

Steady!

Your cavalry is well operated, and the Great Plains operation outflanks and harasses the night raids, dragging down the enemy's logistics and morale with mobility and shock.

Refreshing!

If your archers and gunners are too many, then build the chest wall and dig trenches, and advance the earthwork layer by layer, and carry out the HIT-RUN-HIT tactics to the end.

Elegant!

You have a lot of engineering talents, and you can start a car, a cannon, and a tank, which is a turtle shell, and the caliber determines justice.

Trench.

Adapt measures to local conditions, be flexible, and use your strengths to scare others' weaknesses, how can there be an enemy that cannot be defeated.

Therefore, in ancient times, the victory of less over more often occurred in ancient times, and the defeat of the strong by the weak was a lie, and those who said this were liars.

Weak is weak, strong is strong, if the weak can win the strong, what the hell do you still exercise, go to the battlefield and throw dice, wouldn't it be beautiful to throw 20 to destroy the world.

Hundreds of chapters ago, Anduin. Lothar also understood.

Unless there is a huge advantage, who wants to fight the battle of the Great Army.

Unless the ammunition is exhausted, who wants to drive a horse to die.

Unless there is no way to retreat, who wants to have a fateful confrontation with hypocrisy.

Yet at this moment, the Burning Plains, I, Anduin. Lothar, 388, punch ......

Uther, who had high hopes, released all the pigeons, and said that it would be two days, two days, two days, two days, and two days, and the alliance soldiers who burned their own fortresses Although the tribe chasing them was in pain, this kind of thing that hurt 10,000 people and damaged 8,000 people is really not easy to do.

The lone army of the alliance has also reached the point of exhaustion.

Lothar knew that Orgrim's life on the other side of the tribe was worse than her own. But so what?

Lothar knew that the tribe didn't just run out of food for a day before the Alliance. But so what?

Lothar knew that not only was there no food on the tribe's side, but the water source was also problematic. But so what?

Lothar knew that the Horde had less than half the number of wolf cavalry of the Alliance. But so what?

Lothar knew that the Horde was at the end of its power, and if the Alliance continued to chase it, a stunning victory was within reach......

But so what!!

I can't hold on anymore.

If the real knight fights like depicted, shouting a few holy lights to give me strength, I can fight without sleep for ten days and half a month, what do I need a quartermaster!

I really can't hold on anymore.

The orcs are already at the end of their crossbows, even if Lothar still has two days of food and grass, not to mention the total annihilation of this orc, leaving two-thirds without casualty figures.

But does Lothar have two days of grain and grass?

No, not even a meal.

The worst thing is the forage for the war horses, the hungry war horses are already overwhelmed, and the beans in the grass pockets have long been exhausted in the repeated runs.

Victory is so easy to achieve, but dreams are like the sun in the sky.

Lothar used all her strength to calm the turmoil in her heart and made the decision to gather people.

It's enough to fight this part.

If Uther is not contacted soon, hunger and cold will take the lives of the valiant Allies.

This is not the fate that the brave should face.

I have a great advantage, in the Iron Forge, there are still 100,000 troops ready to go, there are enough 200,000 troops to consume half a year's grain and grass, there are bacon, sausages, beer, and clothing.

To go back is to win, and I didn't lose this battle.

Using all his strength to resist the urge to fight to the death with the orcs, Lothar fulfilled his duties as a marshal.

Aurelia and Sedan. Dasuohan's return brought the good news that the death squad had successfully completed its mission, and Tulayan's excited face contrasted sharply with his rumbling belly.

"Take it and eat it."

Aurelia handed over her bag of dry food, and the supplies she had obtained from the abandoned camp at the Altar of Storms were running low, but they could put a soothing of the hunger in Tulayan's belly.

"Take it and share it with everyone."

Tulayan responded to Aurelia's kindness with a hearty smile, but handed the food to his lieutenant.

"General, you eat, your physical exertion is the greatest, we ......"

"It's an order!"

Unconsciously, Tulayan had already established his prestige within the alliance, and the adjutant was a little entangled and a little moved, and finally did not say anything more, saluted and left.

On the other side, after listening to the report of the team, Lothar reprimanded very dissatisfied.

"Stupid, narrow-minded, self-righteous! Carlos's judgment was not wrong, even wise! What's the use of you dozens of people, how many orcs can you kill on the battlefield? Uther was blocked in Blackstone Mountain, all of our reinforcements were blocked out of the gates, and you watched Carlos with more than twenty people to open the tunnel of life for all of us, but he was bent on coming to me, an old thing? Stupidity! Extreme stupidity!! ”

Lothar did not say a word during the reprimand, but silently listened to the marshal's roar.

And Lothar scolded for about three minutes, and his anger calmed down first.

"Thank you, thank you. Then, it's good to come back, it's good to come back...... Go down and rest, there is still a bad battle to be fought. ”

After pacifying the crowd, more work awaited Lothar.

Assess the battle damage, reorganize the system, assign it to maintenance, and contact the troops.

So far, on the battlefield of the Burning Plains, the alliance has been able to dispatch about 14,000 troops, and this is still the number after Tulayan went to the Storm Altar to transfer the 2,000 cavalry.

Nature is fair in the question of water sources, and the lack of water not only plagues the tribes, but also the Union.

Therefore, the nominal 14,000 men in Lothar's hands only had about 4,000 cavalry to attack the orcs in the first line, and the remaining 10,000 people were divided into hundreds of squads scattered around Lothar, agreeing to assemble with a beacon fire as a number, and at other times they would find water and food.

There is no way, what is the difference between getting soldiers together after the collapse of the logistics system and chronic suicide.

What Lothar needs to do now is to designate a workable retreat plan, gather the soldiers on the front line without a trace, and then open the way home.

Therefore, before Tulayan could say a few words to Aurelia, he was sent out again by Lothar.

"Conduct one or two raids, hold the tribe back, give them the illusion that we're not going to give up, and then use the night to return."

Lothar gave Tulayan a simple indication of what he needed to pay attention to, and then shoved a delicate metal jug into Tulayan's hand.

"Go early and come back early."

Young Tulayan wanted to say something, but when he saw Lothar's dry and cracked lips, he couldn't say anything, so he nodded solemnly and left with a cloud of smoke.

On this night, there was no wind, except for hunger, and I slept comfortably.

The next day, a group of hunting troops returned to Lothar, bringing with them all sorts of strange prey, things that seemed to be edible and inedible.

Therefore, the potential of human beings is still huge, as long as they are willing to hunt, they can always get food.

It's just the hellish place of the Burning Plains......

Lothar is not good at discouraging the crowd, it is better than nothing, and the calories that can be replenished by that little food are far less than the consumption during the hunt. But it can't be stopped, or even explained, that morale and spirit have crossed over, and I don't know how many times more terrible than hunger.

For a whole day, Lothar retreated about twenty miles north without a trace, and half of the food he had hunted was distributed to the heralds.

Without food, the strong soldiers of the Alliance could hold out for a week, but without water, they would be finished in two days in the hellish place of the Burning Plains.

So the mages became water-making tools.

Looking at the longing faces, no matter how noble the master is on weekdays, he can't say the words of refusal, just silently resting, silently casting spells, and then resting, and then casting spells until he faints.

Although the situation was difficult, Lothar was very relieved that the morale of the soldiers was still high, which was not easy.

Lothar couldn't help but have a hint of fantasy in front of him, if Uther suddenly appeared and reinforcements suddenly arrived, it would be great, a great victory was within reach, the war between the Alliance and the Horde would be ended within this year, and the soldiers would be able to go home for the Winter Veil Festival......

In addition to dealing with military affairs, Lothar held on to this little fantasy and stayed awake all night.

On the third day, bad news came.

"Marshal, no, the tribe eats people!"

Lothar recognized the dusty clay figure in front of him as the guard beside Tulayan, and quickly poured out a small half cup from the small water bladder and handed it to him.

"Uh~~~~Ah~~~~~~~"

The guard put the glass aside, pursed his lips, and suddenly lowered his face and leaned into Lothar's ear.

"Marshal, the orcs have started eating human flesh, and those brutes have started eating people! General Tulayan asked me to come back and tell you that the situation has changed, so prepare early. ”

"Go down and rest, I see."

Lothar patted the herald's shoulder, patted the ash on his hand, and looked down at the ash on half of his palm, as if the black and white line was the battle line between the Alliance and the Horde.

Lothar fell into deep thought.

"Kilrog, this is a betrayal! Have you Blood Cave Clans forgotten what glory is? ”

Orgrim's anger was on the verge of pushing the limits of his sanity.

"Great chief, the patriarch has never betrayed the tribe, the Gulabash trolls are at war against the tribe, the patriarch did not run away, but chose a more difficult battlefield."

The one-eyed orc responded to the question of the great chief of the tribe without humility or arrogance.

Orgrim understood that Kilrog's choice was not wrong, that the troll city of Thorn Valley, or Zulgrab, was too close to the Dark Gate, too close to Elwin. And after the trolls of Zul Grab refused to be solicited by the tribe, there were several clashes between the two sides. At the moment, the entire tribe is dependent on the Elwyn region for supplies, and even has to have a blood transfusion to his hometown of Draenor, and if the Gulabash trolls out of the Valley of Thorns and cut off the tribe's transportation and supply lines, it will be a big problem.

Therefore, intellectually, Orgrim agrees with the choice made by Kilrog, and even changes the time and place, and Orgrim will not hesitate to praise Kilrog and the Blood Cave Clan with the most sincere words.

Just for now......

A feeling of betrayal pervades Orgrim's mind.

"I want reinforcements, warriors of your Blood Cave Clan, not a messenger."

"It's really because the patriarch can't come, that's why I'm here. Great Chief, everyone in the camp knows about this, and five days before your order arrives, the Patriarch has already led the army to set out. Everyone was indifferent to the troll invasion, everyone was watching, using you as an excuse, only the patriarch stepped forward. Great chieftain, you, cannot blame the patriarch. ”

The emissary of the Blood Cave Clan was neither humble nor arrogant, and Orgrim fell into deep thought.

"Why don't you mobilize another reinforcement army from the camp, even if Kilrog and your Blood Cave Clan can't come, the tribe still has at least 80,000 warriors in the Burning Plains."

Orgrim asked in a deep tone.

"Only you are the great chief of the tribe."

The messenger fell to one knee and lowered his head, giving in to Orgrim.

"The Bloodcave Clan is not a despicable oathbreaker, I will stay by your side and prove the glory of the Bloodcave Orcs with a bloody battle."

Orgrim thought for a moment, then said, "Then prove it to me." ”

With that, he waved his hand to signal that Kilrog's messenger could leave.

As soon as the messenger left, Orgrim summoned his henchmen and returned to the camp a second time to bring in the rescuers.

After continuing to deal with some things, one of his men approached Orgrim with a mysterious broth of unknown raw materials.

The hungry Orgrim tasted it with some surprise and asked rhetorically, "Fresh meat?" ”

The orcs did not dare to deceive the Great Chieftain, and replied honestly: "It is human flesh." ”

"Hmmm! Ahh......h

Orgrim looked at the wooden basin in his hand thoughtfully, and finally ate without hypocrisy.

The so-called fate is nothing but the result of the pain after everyone has made a choice.

The Union does not want to fight.

The Horde did not want to fight.

The two families couldn't sit together and negotiate terms.

So what to do?

If you hurt the other party first, if you are afraid, you will be able to leave safely.

At least Anduin. Lothar and Ogrim. The Hammer of Doom and their generals thought so.

The end result was that no one could retreat, and the battle between the two sides lasted two more days.

The tribe is running out of ammunition and food.

Alliance, drink water and stuff your teeth.

Orcs began to eat human corpses on a large scale.

Humans, more miserable, orc flesh corrupted by demonic blood is very unpalatable, not to mention weak toxicity, and useless teeth.

"No, it's not a contest of willpower anymore."

"We must concentrate our efforts on destroying this human army."

Anduin. Once again, Lothar and Orgrim came to a consensus.

So on the battlefield of the Burning Plains, where there were few secrets to hide, the Alliance and the Horde began to quickly gather forces.

A big battle seems inevitable.

In terms of troops, the alliance has 13,000 people, including more than 3,000 cavalry, but the army and horses are short of food, and the combat effectiveness may be reduced. There were 10,000 infantry left, 4,000 lightly wounded, and about 5,000 hoplites in full condition, which was the core force of the real alliance.

On the other hand, the orcs, the wolf cavalry was less than eight hundred, and after collecting the troops, the number of warriors exceeded twenty thousand, but excluding hard labor and serious injuries, the available combat population was about fifteen thousand.

Judging from the comparison of paper data, the orcs have the advantage in strength, and in terms of combat effectiveness, the orcs have an absolute advantage.

The only problem is the source of food.

The tribe ran out of food one day earlier than the alliance, and after two days of anxiety, the alliance's physical strength advantage had equaled or even slightly surpassed the tribe's individual combat power gap.

There are only so many sources of water in the Burning Plains, and the number of orcs has become a disadvantage, and the tribe is much more serious than the alliance when it comes to dehydration.

Talking about weapons and equipment, even if Orgrim is surrounded by orc elites, it can't compare to Lothar, who has the backing of Ironforge and the entire Lordaeron Human Kingdom. The alliance has the upper hand in this regard.

After all kinds of data analysis, the most astute analysts can only give a battlefield answer.

It can't be delayed, and if it drags on any longer, victory or defeat will be doomed.

No one wants to leave their fate to the heavens, the orcs don't forgive, and the humans don't want to.

War horses are the best friends of cavalry, but victory is the highest desire of soldiers.

More than a thousand weakened military horses were slaughtered on the eve of the decisive battle, and the human soldiers were brutally treated to a roast meal.

The number of cavalry in the alliance was reduced to less than two thousand, and the physical strength was restored somewhat.

The orcs also emptied all their savings and waited for the final battle.

That night, there was no night attack, no harassment, a peaceful night, but no one slept.

The sky was slightly bright, and the sound of trumpets and war drums never stopped.

Platooning troops is not something that can be done by playing a game.

The alliance and the tribe tacitly separated each other by a distance of about five hundred meters, and began the game of counting heads.

Whoever counts first, who attacks first, has the upper hand.

Lothar discharged the most classic hundred-man phalanx of mankind, a two-story wall made of bricks with a four-by-twenty-five hundred-man array, and the entire battle line was about two kilometers long. The array line is not thick enough, but it is long enough to effectively reduce the flank pressure caused by the tribe's numerical advantage. The cavalry was placed on the right flank, the classic tactic of the collapse of the left flank. It's just that such tactics mean that the left wing of the coalition is equally unsheltered. Tulayan did not participate in the cavalry assault this time, but was placed on the most difficult left flank by Lothar, who was also placed by Aurelia and others, and Lothar hoped that the heroes' superb personal martial arts could help the left flank hold out longer———— as long as it was longer than the Horde. And Sedan. Da Sohan and others were placed in the Chinese army, and these big soldiers would play the role of their own big warriors on the front line of the meat grinder slaughterhouse.

Orgrim's arrangement is generally not much different from the alliance, and it is difficult to play any tricks with this kind of Armageddon that knows the roots, this kind of Armageddon that is forced to be carried out out of desperation. So the arrangement of Orgrim is also very simple, unpretentious and practical. With a thousand-man team as a unit, the orcs lined up a sharp formation, and the whole was divided into three major clusters, planning to launch an offensive against the central army, the left and right flanks of the alliance at the same time. Because of the superiority in numbers, Orgrim did not have a special arrangement of which side to focus on, but distributed the forces equally, the central charging group delayed the pace of the alliance army, the left wing group was equipped with a large number of shields to deal with the impact of the alliance cavalry, and the soldiers on the right wing were the best preserved physical strength and were responsible for defeating the left wing of the alliance. As for the wolf cavalry, Orgrim was repeatedly assigned to the attack cluster on the right flank, after all, the number was too small, and it didn't have much effect to fight back against the alliance. In such a life-and-death battlefield, there is no big mistake in thinking about the worst in everything, and Orgrim chose the safest way to deal with it.

The mobilization began at about five o'clock in the morning, and by about nine o'clock in the morning, the arrays of the two alliances and tribes basically had a rough appearance, but no one launched an attack first.

On the battlefield, the most common battles of 100 people and 1,000 people, even a battle of 100,000 people, are composed of countless small battles of 1,000 people, 100 people, and 10 people. The real situation of tens of thousands of brothers side by side is really rare.

The alliance's array line is shorter, only two kilometers, and the tribe pulls the array line quite wide in order to attack in three ways, and the gap between the clusters is also larger, and it is a full four kilometers.

It is not a simple matter to line up the array on such a long length, and it will take several weeks to rehearse in advance for the parade, not to mention that on the battlefield, nervous emotions can affect the actions of officers and soldiers.

It wasn't until about eleven o'clock that the allies took the lead in completing the arrangement, and as the commander's hand flag waved, the war drums began to beat the advancing drum, and the soldiers in the phalanx began to advance step by step on the drum.

Although the tribe was a little slower, the already rough orcs didn't care too much about the neatness of the array, and just gasped and waited for the order of the big chief.

The cavalry of the alliance did not follow the advance of the array, and when the infantry phalanx began to advance, the cavalry slowly emerged from under the belly of the horses, dressed each other in armor, fixed the saddles, tightened the leather buckles, and drank some water to moisten their throats. It was not until the commander gave the signal that the cavalrymen climbed into the saddle and began to form a formation. A large part of the cavalry's training was the queue, the speed of the whole team of 2,000 cavalry completely crushed the infantry phalanx, and the wide terrain of the burning plain did not add other additional obstacles to the cavalry, and in less than three minutes, the cavalry had completed the final preparations before departure.

When the Alliance pushed the array line to a distance of about two hundred meters from the Horde, the advancing drum order stopped, and the thin and dense drum beat, accompanied by the long and majestic hissing of the horn, told all the Alliance soldiers that they were going to die.

Originally, according to the normal process, Lothar should have advanced his troops fifty to eighty meters further, and the bow and arrow should be thrown at least three rounds before talking about the rest. It's just that in this embarrassing decisive battle, the alliance has no extra bows and arrows, and the tribe does not throw spears and axes, and the scattered long-range projections have to be made out of the way by the infantry phalanx, and the input and output are not proportional, which is completely increasing the difficulty of command.

So Lothar and Orgrim both abandoned the procedure.

The League's increasingly rapid drumbeat stimulated the soldiers' senses, and the adrenaline rush brought about a feeling of heat and excitement. At Lothar's signal, the commander conveyed the flag three times, and finally raised the red flag in his hand and stopped moving.

The drumbeat came to a sudden halt, and all the Union soldiers felt a sense of loss in the air of the stairs, followed by the excitement of the bugle.

Tulayan was stunned on the left flank, with a confused face, charging? Shouldn't the right flank break through to the left flank and wait for the cavalry to break through, why would the whole army charge?

But the flag is the direction, the horn is the order, even if the bugler is nervous and blows the wrong one, the order must be carried out.

Tulayan let out a battle cry, igniting the heat of the battlefield.

Was it a mistake?

Of course not, Lothar rode on his horse, stood on a high slope, looked at the formation of the distant tribes, thought twice, and changed his plan.

You can't fight a positional battle according to the conventional response, this is a decisive battle without reserves, if you follow the process of waiting for the orcs to charge, the alliance relies on the formation defense counterattack, it is very likely that something will happen ———— be taken away by a wave.

The lineup of orcs is so open, the four-kilometer array line is not at all filled by 20,000 orcs, and to fill the four-kilometer array line, at least 50,000 orcs are needed.

First of all, the option of ruling out the big chief of the tribe is a fool, so what does the tribe want to do?

There is only one truth, the tribe wants to make a big gap and detour, directly magnify the shortcomings of the alliance's military inferiority, and rely on the length advantage of the array line to annihilate the alliance.

Think beautifully, in this evenly matched battle, no one has a hidden backhand to use, you Orgrim stretches the array line, of course, it is beneficial, but the gap between the array clusters is also a fatal flaw.

So after examining the battlefield, Lothar launched the order to charge the whole army.

Seeing that the cavalry troops also began to accelerate, Lothar drew his sword and said to the guards: "Let's go, there is no need for a commander in this battle, let those orcs show the power of Stormwind City!" ”

The members of the Iron Horse Brotherhood listened to Lothar's flat words, and the muscular men shed tears of excitement, too long, too long, too long, so long that the name of Stormwind City sounded a little unfamiliar.

"For the Alliance!"

"For Anduin. Lothar! ”

"Long live Stormwind!"

Although the Alliance was the first to charge, Orgrim was not in a hurry. Humans are far worse than those ogres in the Gorian Empire. If the warriors of the tribe were fed and slept for three days before going to war, Orgrim believed that a single charge from the orcs would turn the battlefield into a slaughterhouse.

Hunger, hardship, so what, how could humans living in a world as comfortable and rich as Azeroth understand the orcs suffering in Draenor in order to survive.

Only such a harsh environment can give birth to such a great race as orcs.

So when the league's forward line moved about fifty meters, Ogrim signaled the trumpeter to blow the sound of a counterattack.

“agggggggggggggggggggggggggggggH！！！”

In the sound of the horns, the blood of the orcs burned.

A big mess has begun.

The battlefield of Armageddon is not the Colosseum and the gladiatorial arena, the vanguard of the alliance and the tribe is not a wine bag and rice bag, in fact, the real half an hour of fierce fighting, the casualties on the front line are small and pitiful, only the unlucky and cowards lost their lives, with the protection of teammates, whether the alliance or the tribe warriors, only the frontal enemy needs to be dealt with, both sides are trying to tear through the opposite front, so as to pull out the gap to kill a happy.

In this way, the left and right are people's positions, the axes are not round, the long swords can't be thrown off, and the weapons are split out and hit by shields, play a **!

The first wave of charges from the Alliance's cavalry and the wolf cavalry of the orcs was a good success, and the left flank of the orcs was almost pierced by a small margin, and Tulayan's best efforts to stabilize the formation could not stop the wolf knights' desperate charge.

But there are no ifs on the battlefield.

The number of wolf cavalry was hard wounded, and after the wolf knights were killed in battle, the wolves continued to bite with red eyes until they died.

No matter how elite the cavalry of the alliance is, the fact that the horse's physical strength is not changed by personal will, a round of charge disrupted the left flank of the orcs, half of the horses were unable to run anymore, the knights gave up the outstretched hands of their comrades, threw away their spears, dismounted, drew their swords, and cut a retreat channel for their teammates who could fight again.

Classic tactics, classic layouts, classic results.

The left flank of the Alliance and the Horde was equally confused, the stalemate of the Chinese army could not withstand the advance of the right flank and the festering of the left flank, the gap between the phalanxes became larger and wider, and by about one o'clock in the afternoon, the most complete central line also collapsed, and there was no difference between the front and the back of the whole battlefield, and both the Horde and the Union faced the same dilemma———— the enemy was everywhere.

Except for the central infantry phalanx, there was still a reluctant array to speak of, and there were no military tactics elsewhere, and the fight between humans and orcs had become a contest of physical strength and martial arts.

In layman's terms, Anduin. Lothar and Ogrim. The Hammer of Doom, two commanders representing the most brilliant military strategists of the Alliance and the Horde, turned a decisive battle into a smashing battle.

A bad battle with no art of command.

Killing a person/orc is far more difficult than you think.

Whether it's Orgrim's troops or Lothar's elite alliance, they're all battle-hardened madmen.

Fear? Cringe?

does not exist, as long as there are comrades-in-arms around me, I will never be alone.

The hand is broken, and there is one, the leg is broken, and you can cut people while lying down, and there is nothing left, and there are teeth.

Most of the Alliance soldiers who still had shields in their hands chose to abandon their longswords and hold shields in both hands to block deadly attacks for their teammates, even if the bones of their arms were shattered by the orcs' great force.

The morale of the orcs is not inferior to that of humans in any way, and since the betrayal of Guldan, the morale-like tribe has been defeated in successive battles.

Is it our fault?

Even in the face of adversity, these orc warriors still crave battle, thirst for glory, and never back down until the blood is dry.

These two armies with no rules to speak of have played with a formidable momentum.

At least Nefarian, who was firmly on the throne in Blackstone Mountain, expressed his heartfelt admiration.

"Good fight."

The battlefield, only the battlefield, can show the value of heroes.

Tulayan can't remember how many orc centurions he had slain, what a respectable and terrible enemy. To cover Aurelia, Tulayan used his own cuirass to eat an orc axe. Although the quality of the light-forged armor was excellent, and it was not split by the orc's axe, the tremendous force still penetrated the musculoskeletal through the metal and shattered the internal organs.

Tulayan's left hand could no longer be lifted above his shoulder.

But so what, I still have my right hand, and I can still hold the sword.

The orcs rushed so hard that they had already cut through the formation that the alliance had placed on the left flank.

But the frenzy of the battlefield is not the magic weapon to victory, and Tulayan, who insists on fighting, inadvertently finds that there is no enemy in front of him. In other words, Tulayan and the men around him held on to the onslaught of the Horde and were already on the far left side of the battlefield.

This discovery made Tulayan smile bitterly, seized the time to catch a few breaths, looked at the wolf corpses and beast remains all over the ground, Tulayan cut off a small piece of wolf ribs, regardless of the smell, stuffed it into his mouth and chewed it twice, and swallowed it.

What to do?

Gather your brothers and fight in the middle!

By about four o'clock in the afternoon, the sun's rays had begun to recede, and both humans and orcs were exhausted, and the warriors who were still fighting had formed warbands of different sizes.

Rest, both the Alliance and the Horde need to rest, and a few more breaths can be used to chop two more axes and stab a few more knives.

The result of chaotic warfare is a great drain on physical strength, and blind battlefield fanaticism can also be expressed in another word: incompetent rage.

The training of the past has been forgotten by the soldiers, and their eyes are full of war, slashing and chopping, and as a result, they have been fighting for several hours, and finally they are exhausted like dead dogs.

The entire battlefield has entered a period of exhaustion, and if one side has a reserve force of 1,000 people at this time, I am afraid it will be able to sweep the battlefield.

Compared with the fatigue of the entire battlefield, the battle in the central phalanx was as fierce as ever.

Because the array had not been disrupted from beginning to end, the soldiers of the alliance had already taken four or five turns under the command of the officer. Even if the arms were sore, the legs were numb, the originally light armor seemed so heavy at the moment, and the strapping strips were sore and painful when they sank into the flesh, the more than two thousand Alliance soldiers still maintained the most basic combat effectiveness.

Lothar, among them.

It can also be said that it is precisely because of the existence of the central phalanx that the alliance of the left wing has not been completely crushed by the Horde.

At this moment, except for those large and small tired battle groups, on the entire battlefield, only the offensive of the Alliance's right flank attack cluster and the end of the crossbow, and the orc and human central infantry phalanx surrounded from all sides.

Therefore, the encounter between Orgrim and Lothar on the battlefield is not a joke of fate at all, but it is just the embrace of the soldiers around them, and it is an inevitable choice of the battlefield situation.

The right flank of the Horde pierced through Tulayan's defenses, and the right flank of the Coalition also fought a river of blood, but it was about the same on both sides. The number of orcs who broke through the layers of resistance and reached the central infantry phalanx was not too large, and the right flank of the alliance was also blocked by the stragglers of the tribe, and there was no ability to return to help. In the center of the battlefield, the victory or defeat of the war was handed over to the last two formed forces of the Alliance and the Horde.

The central infantry phalanx with the Iron Horse Brotherhood as the main force, and Orgrim's Blackstone Orc Legion.

As the last two units with command and organization, Lothar and Orgrim put in the best battles of the game.

The Alliance's large circular phalanx counters the Horde's 100-man raid, rendering the final battle before sunset exciting and exciting.

Switching between attack and defense at a fast pace, seizing the disconnect in the opponent's scheduling, Lothar and Orgrim showed superb command skills in this thousand-man battle.

In the end, Orgrim showed his "hidden arrow wounder" side, pretending to abandon Lothar's central infantry phalanx, intending to turn in and annihilate the other Alliance skirmishers, forcing Lothar to make up a pursuit, and then firing back with a rifle, finally breaking the last formation of the Alliance.

But the only thing Orgrim missed was that the soldiers around Lothar were all fierce men about the size of the orcs. Even if they lose the protection of the formation, they are still all heads-up men.

Orgrim can't remember how many times he wielded the Hammer of Doom today.

Artifacts are not destroyed by the collision of mortals, but orcs are exhausted by constant fighting.

With the protection of the clan's own soldiers and the Sword Master, and the combat power of Orgrim himself in the prime of life is as high as several million, the great chief of the tribe can stop and observe for a moment in the chaotic battlefield.

Soon, despite the simplicity of the armor, Lothar, with the sword in hand, caught Orgrim's attention.

Do you think you can't find you if you hide in the crowd? It's useless. You are such a stylish man, no matter where you are, just like a firefly in the dark, so distinct, so outstanding. Your melancholy eyes, your embarrassed beard, your Mediterranean hairstyle, your amazing swordsmanship, and of course, the great royal sword, all attracted me deeply. The hunger from the bloodline tells me that man is worth fighting.

Orgrim quickly approached Lothar and used his strength to tell the Alliance why he became the Great Chief of the Horde.

Block, hang, forehand pull, backhand hammer, a league down.

Empty-handed into the white blade, flicking legs and kicking the chin, picking up weapons, another alliance fell.

At the peak of his life, Orgrim used his bravery to interpret the power and horror of orcs.

Lothar soon discovers Orgrim as well.

The iconic blackplate armor and the uniquely shaped hammer of destruction also betrayed Orgrim.

Generalissimo of the Union!

The Great Chief of the Horde!

Having been caught up in the conspiracy for a long time, Lothar decided to remind everyone of the horror of the Lion of Stormwind, and to let everyone understand that he Anduin. Lothar's name that year ———— the first macho man in mankind!

Pushing away the shield guards in front of him, Lothar fearlessly met the rushing Orgrim.

Although he was nearly ten centimeters shorter than Orgrim, Lothar's rich combat experience and outstanding martial arts skills allowed him to be undefeated in the first collision of weapons.

Even if Orgrim has the upper hand in strength, Lothar's more reasonable posture and body expression allow him to have a small upper hand.

Ogrim took three steps back, as evidenced by Lothar's steadied figure in one step.

Fighting on the battlefield, unforgiving, Lothar seized the opportunity, and holding the sword with both hands was a jump. Unsteady, Orgrim had no choice but to raise his arms to parry. The force that had been transmitted from the Hammer of Doom shook Orgrim almost out of his hand, and his body fell back.

But it wasn't how a ruthless man led the tribe, the big chief just fought to eat Lothar's sword with his shoulder armor, raised his hand and used the hammer handle to block Lothar's severed sword, and turned sideways with a standard posture and a ferocious side kick that hit Lothar's lower abdomen.

Unfortunately, just as Orgrim wanted to take advantage of the victory to pursue, the shield guard that Lothar had pushed away had already flashed forward and blocked in front of the Alliance Marshal.

The Hammer of Doom shattered the shield with the Insignia of the Alliance with the breath of destruction, and the shield guard with twisted arms still did not want to back down, Orgrim respected him as a man and was ready to take his life, and Lothar, who had regained his feet, blocked the mortal attack with a not-so-easy posture.

With eyes met, Orgrim was in a state of flux, and out of respect for the warrior, he withdrew and stepped back, waiting for Lothar to bypass the fallen shield guard and the battle began again.

As long as you can fight, you can call yourself a warrior.

As long as you have courage, anyone can be a brave person.

But when the samurai meet, they have to be divided into high and low.

On the battlefield of life and death, talk about life and death first and then talk about glory, there is no saying that generals will fight against small soldiers to watch the show, whether it is the alliance or the tribe, as long as they seize the opportunity, there is no black hand. However, Orgrim and Lothar were a lot higher than the soldiers around them, both in terms of martial arts and tactics. Regardless of whether it is a human soldier or an orc warrior, those who interfere in the battle between the chief and the marshal will lack arms and legs, and at worst they will die with a whimper.

Soon, the battle between Orgrim and Lothar became a black hole on the battlefield, with the guards trying to intervene in the battle while blocking the enemy, and the minions went to the leader's side one after another.

Outside the battle circle, the corpses were piled up in an irregular circle.

It was already dark, visibility was decreasing, and the Armageddon had been fought from dawn to dusk.

According to the experience of previous wars, it is time for the two sides to tacitly withdraw their troops and fight again tomorrow.

But the commander who was able to give this order was fighting selflessly at the moment.

Forty-two-year-old Anduin. Lothar and twenty-four-year-old Orgrim. The Hammer of Doom, the Generalissimo of the Alliance and the Grand Chief of the Horde, two men who also stand at the top of their power and power, use their warhammers and swords to collide with the strongest sound in the world.

However, time is the medicine that heals the wounds, and it is also the poison that murders the strong.

Lothar no longer wants to admit the fact that he can't erase the fact that he is old, and if he has children, then the children's children can call him grandpa.

The blazing battle intent can't erase the exhaustion of his body, and the hard work after the fall of the Stormwind Kingdom has also consumed Lothar's physical functions, he is no longer the lion of Stormwind City who can run eight hundred miles in a day and night and can fight continuously.

Orgrim's strength was also exhausted, but Lothar knew that he must have lost his strength before the orc in front of him was tired and lay down.

It can't go on any longer.

Lothar suddenly woke up from the frenzy of the duel and remembered his status as the commander of the Alliance.

So Lothar decided to take the risk, deliberately selling a flaw in exchange for his life and ending Orgrim's life.

Just do it, Lothar lures Orgrim to compete in strength, and this move is exactly what Orgrim intended. When the strength was at its maximum, Lothar suddenly unloaded, the Great Royal Sword took off his hand and turned in a direction, the blade was pointed downward, and Orgrim staggered to stabilize his body, and his backhand hit Lothar's waist ribs, and Lothar pulled out his sword with his backhand and stabbed it into the gap in the blackplate armor under Ogrim's armpit.

Exchanging injuries for lives is a trick that battlefield veterans will do, and Ogrim is no exception.

But Ogrim didn't expect Lothar to be such a change.

If it was an ordinary war hammer, Lothar should have succeeded, but the Hammer of Destruction is not an ordinary war hammer, the Hammer of Destruction blessed by the elemental spirit of Draenor contains the destructive power of the fire element, this hammer is really smashed, Lothar is afraid that it is not an injury for a life, but a life for a life.

Die at the hands of this man, don't be aggrieved!

Orgrim didn't have the slightest intention of rescuing his life, and smashed it at Lothar with all his strength.

And Lothar was ready to take a hammer with the soft flesh around her waist, aiming at Orgrim's armpit, ready to pierce the heart.

Lothar's waist ached, a mouthful of old blood spat out, and his arm movements were deformed, but the tip of the sword still pierced the gap in Orgrim's blackplate armor.

It's done!

Lothar was overjoyed, and the unexpected happened.

In the continuous impact with the Hammer of Doom, the Great Royal Sword was already scarred, and the collision with the blackplate armor was like the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Although Lothar plunged the tip of her sword into Orgrim's armpit more than ten centimeters, it was not deep enough to kill an orc who was more than two meters tall.

The breaking of the Grand Royal Sword caused Lothar to lose his balance and fall to the ground, and Orgrim was stabbed by the broken blade, and his heart was in pain, and he let out a howl of pain and pulled out the broken blade, bleeding from his armpits.

In the direction of Blackstone Mountain, a large number of torches lined up in a zigzag shape lit up the distance.

Hundreds of meters away, Tulayan looked at Lothar's fallen figure, and was so anxious that he shouted "Reinforcements are coming!" ”

Orgrim covered his wounds, heard the cheers of the Alliance, and looked at the distant firelight, his face as dead as ashes.

Whether it's the Alliance's reinforcements or Red. The black hand came to pick up the bargain, and he lost.

"Retreat."

The great chief of the tribe reluctantly gave the order.