Everyone at the scene knew the weight of the chief's head in Lothar's hand.
If King Llane's capital was taken down and he fled to Southshore in disgrace, no matter how many troops he saved or how many citizens he protected, Llane would still be a useless king of a fallen country in front of the kings of the other six kingdoms.
This huge sha will accompany Llane for the rest of his life and may even harm the young Varian.
Even if Llane in "history" was assassinated, he was still the king who defended the country and a hero in the hearts of the people. Even if Lothar and Varian were looked down upon everywhere, no one would bring up Llane's death.
In this life, Llane survived thanks to Duke's efforts. Duke saved Llane from Garona's assassination, and he would not let Llane die defending Stormwind for his honor. If Llane died, Stormwind would lose its backbone.
The situation is completely different now.
The head of the Warchief and the battle flag of the Horde Warchief that Lothar asked the guards to pick up are enough to prove that Llane is still honorable despite his defeat!
The battle flag covered with large beast tooth ornants was obviously different at first glance.
Even if they lose, even if they lose the royal city, every Stormwind citizen can still stand up straight and tell everyone, "Our great hero Lothar chopped off the head of the Horde Warchief."
However, Duke was in charge of everything.
Without Duke's knowledge of orcs, no one would have thought that the chieftain could be lured out in this way.
Even the most critical people can only give Duke a thumbs up.
Lothar was indeed a hero, able to kill the Warchief Blackhand despite such a huge disparity in strength and speed. But everyone knew that Duke was the real hero.
"Give the head." Duke waved his hand.
As Lothar ran, he threw Blackhand's head to Duke.
"Quench!" Duke waved his hand, and the extrely cold air instantly surrounded the head of the chief spinning in the air. The next mont, the magician's hand had caught the head of the Blackhand frozen in the transparent ice.
Such a heavy task as carrying the enemy leader's head would naturally be done by the guards below.
"You go ahead with the heads and flags, I will lead the first squad to cover you." Lothar did not relax his vigilance, put on a shield, and led the rear guard to retreat cautiously. In fact, Lothar was worrying too much, the orcs had already fought among themselves, and they had no ti to pay attention to these humans who were retreating in an orderly manner.
At the dock, General Tom Seamos was extrely anxious. When he saw Llane's battle flag and the Royal Guard appear at the gate of Storm Harbor, he quickly led his troops to et them.
"Your Majesty, your safety is more important than anything else." General Seamos was so excited that he almost cried.
"Thank you for your hard work, my dear. Now, there are only two steps left." Llane, wearing a golden helt and golden armor, stared at the guard team that was running towards him carrying the head of the Warchief and the tribal flag, with clear excitent in his eyes.
Kill the general and seize the flag!
If it weren't for Duke, I would probably have died here for my country, right?
Llane's heart was filled with infinite gratitude towards Duke. Thinking of those nobles who fled with their property when disaster struck, Duke's na had beco sacred in Llane's heart.
Over there, when the rearguard led by Lothar had almost withdrawn from the cathedral square, Duke finally launched a follow-up move.
"Ambroliza Magalovs..." It was a long spell. As Duke's spell sounded, Lothar clearly felt that sothing was changing in the air.
Countless mysterious magic runes appeared from under Duke's feet, spreading out like ripples, and spreading in all directions.
Seeing Duke stop chanting and the magic fluctuations around him calming down, Lothar couldn't help but ask, "What did you do? If you want to burn down Stormwind City, you don't need such an exaggerated magic circle?"
Duke smiled mysteriously: "You will know soon."
At the sa ti, every Blackrock Clan orc who was fighting each other felt a fear in his heart.
It's just like when a disaster strikes, even mice will run away; it's purely animal instinct.
At this mont, in all the blocks of Stormwind City, every orc, no matter what they were doing, forced themselves to stop their actions - the ground beneath their feet gave them a sense of horror that made them extrely terrified.
Once upon a ti in Stormwind's largest church, accompanied by the ringing of bells, every evening prayer hall would echo with the priests' uniform evening prayers night after night.
As Stormwind City was attacked, the evening prayer bells had not rung for a long ti. Every priest was using holy healing to heal the injured and soothing every frightened soul with their kind voices.
However, at this mont, the church bells that had not been rung at night for a long ti rang out.
Three short! Three long! Three short again!
This is the promised signal!
Having long given up hope of escaping and knowing they were dood, the suicide squad mbers quickly took action, perhaps crawling out of an abandoned attic, an inconspicuous closet, or a secret basent, dragging their mutilated bodies.
Light the torch with the flint and throw it onto each of the prepared fire starters.
Or a pile of wood that had already been doused with kerosene, or a huge pile of whale fat piled up in the corner, or a storage room full of dry straw.
More importantly, in the hot sumr, the brick and wood structure of the house, coupled with the large amount of flammable materials that had been prepared, made it very easy to set a fire.
More than a thousand fires were burning in savings banks, stock exchanges, residential houses, shops, nobles' mansions, governnt agencies, hotels, and all important and unimportant facilities.
At first, the orcs who had already dispersed did not pay attention to the fire.
Burning, killing and looting are commonplace for any captured large city. When the orcs captured Shattrath several years ago, they did the sa thing to the Draenei city.
Moreover, orcs are not interested in human houses at all. They prefer their own tents.
Not to ntion the awareness to put out the fire, the orcs didn't even think of running out to take a look.
But soon, they found out they were wrong.
The fire was out of control. A fear that they had experienced not long ago ca over them again. They suddenly rembered the scene where Duke burned down half of the Horde camp by himself.
The blazing fire, which could be described as the flas of hell, killed more than ten thousand of the orcs. They began to run out and tried to put out the fire by various ans, but it was too late, the fire had already spread everywhere recklessly.
Block after block was easily engulfed by the raging flas. In the narrow streets, they could not find any place to hide from the fire. They could only run to the wide square in a panic, or jump into the moat that spread throughout Stormwind City, watching in amazent as pillars of fire shot up into the sky one after another.The burning area was getting wider and wider. Looking down from the black sky, the whole city seed to be subrged by a flood.
That was a torrent of flas!
Low residential buildings, towering mansions, huge warehouses, countless houses that were burned through collapsed one after another, accompanied by continuous rumbling. Countless orcs who had no ti to dodge were crushed to death by the brick and wood houses in the narrow streets.
"Ah! Fire! Run!"
The streets and roads were blocked by flas, and at almost every important intersection, two large houses had just collapsed, and huge burning fire towers just blocked every escape Road.
The orcs who had already hidden in the safe area were trembling with fear and sweating profusely. They could only watch their compatriots being devoured by the flas. Even if they covered their ears, they could still hear their brothers crying and screaming in the roar of the flas burning the city.
There is also the unbridled laughter of the human suicide squad before their lives pass away.
"Hahahaha!" There was no regret, no remorse, only the triumphant laughter when the enemy was killed.
The orcs found themselves at this mont trapped in a common nightmare.
That nightmare's na is Edmund Duke!
Once again, he burned countless orcs to death with flas.
Orgrim also jumped into the city's canal. Even though the water seed a little warm on a hot sumr day, it still couldn't raise the almost freezing temperature in his heart.
This was a trap that caused him great pain, and more than half of his n were killed. If it weren't for the fire, he might have been killed by the crazy counterattack of the Blackhand Guards.
He couldn't rember how many Blackhand guards he had killed with his Doomhamr. This was once a weapon that made him extrely proud. He had used it to kill countless ogres and more than three-digit ferocious beasts in 'our world'.
But now, under the moonlight, the blood stained on the Hamr of Destruction lted into the water of the canal.
That was the blood of the Blackrock clan, the blood of his fellow orcs.
However, Orgrim still had strong doubts and foreboding in his heart.
I always feel that if it is Edmund Duke, who is more evil than the devil, then he has more tricks up his sleeve.
The moon was unknowingly shrouded in dark clouds again, and in the shining river water, they saw a series of golden runes extending to the riverside like flas.
"This is impossible!" Orgrim finally couldn't help but scread, "Everyone get to the shore! Quickly! Otherwise it will be too late!"
Orgrim frantically called out to his n, his compatriots.
His n obeyed, and even though they were a little reluctant, they still climbed up the shore. Not far from the bluestone avenue along the river bank was the city wall whose bricks and stones had turned red after being burned by the blazing blocks. These three-ter-high low walls, together with the canal that could serve as a moat when necessary, divided Stormwind City into six major blocks.
Even sitting on the bluestone on the shore, they could still feel the extre heat. If it weren't for Orgrim's mad roar to stop them, they would probably have preferred to subrge their bodies again in the relatively cool river water.
In fact, many orcs who were not directly under Orgrim did so.
They returned to the river again, and crossed the boundary between hell and the human world that the god of death had drawn on the ground with his scythe...
It was as if deep beneath Stormwind City there was a sun burning with blazing flas rising up from deep underground, arching up the earth, as if it was about to break out of the ground at any ti.
Countless golden runes shone from the black soil beneath the canal. The orcs in the river found that they could clearly see their toes from the water surface...
"Rumble, rumble, rumble" the entire Stormwind City shook.
From the Valley of the Kings in the south to Stormwind Keep in the north, from the Mage Quarter in the west to the Old Town in the east, every block was shaking. The statue of divh standing in the Valley of the Kings began to shake violently, and then the statue, symbolizing the patron saint of the old tis, collapsed bit by bit.
Every brick on the ground, together with the grains of sand beneath them, rose and fell like waves, becoming more and more turbulent, even throwing the orcs lying on the ground to avoid the flas into the air, making them fall down and then be thrown up again.
The wooden beams and pillars, which had already begun to burn through in the flas, creaked further and exploded, accelerating the collapse of every house that had not yet collapsed.
Then, golden light shot out from the ground and out from the bottom of the river.
The streets and roads that were originally free of flas beca roads of flas.
The canal, which was supposed to be a refuge, had every drop of water evaporated due to the high temperatures.
The orcs still in the river were scalded to death in the blink of an eye.
And the water turns into water vapor.
The scorching hot vapor had a more terrifying killing power than flas. The orcs could not hold back their breathing and inhaled a large amount of scorching hot vapor. The vapor madly destroyed the alveoli in the lungs, making them feel that they were breathing not air but flas.
Even the orcs who climbed up the riverbank could not escape the fate of death. They just lingered a little longer than their compatriots who stayed in the river, and then followed in their footsteps.
The orcs throughout Stormwind City let out fierce screams, and then everything began to fall silent.
In the city, there was only the crackling sound of raging flas and the sound of pillars, bricks, or glass falling to the ground.
Apart from that, the whole city fell into deathly silence.
How many orcs can survive?
Not one in a hundred!
The orcs who had just run out of the streets or jumped into the river were almost all killed. Only a very small number of orcs trapped in the fire in the block escaped the pursuit of the Death Scythe.
Orgrim was not dead! With his strong fire resistance, he managed to withstand the flas, but a lot of his hair was burned off.
Climbing out of the fire, which was no longer as hot, Orgrim saw the charred corpses that filled the streets and riverbeds.
"Ah ...
Even when he received the news of the death of his closest friend Durotan, Orgrim still controlled his emotions.
But this ti.
Only this ti!
Orgrim completely hated a human being, he was Duke, the new patron saint of Stormwind Kingdom!
"Ahhhhhhhhhh—I will kill you! I swear I will kill you even if I have to chase you to the end of hell! I will peel off every bit of your flesh and skin! And eat it alive! I will tear off every bone of yours and crush them completely! I will—ROOOOAR!"
On the charred earth scorched by flas, Orgrim knelt down dejectedly.
It's over! The elite of the Blackrock Clan were burned to ashes in a fire!
Even though there are still many Blackrock Clan mbers in the camp, the Blackrock Clan will no longer be the largest clan in the horde!
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