After the knights crushed the orc warlocks, Galen, still on horseback, shouted orders in a language that Uther and the others couldn't quite grasp.
Despite not understanding their commander's words, the knights couldn't help but feel elated. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that they had just wiped out the enemy's spellcasting unit. A major victory!
Galen was about to turn and press on to the rear lines of the orc forces when an idea suddenly struck him. Warlocks had a unique ability to create soul stones, which could store the souls of themselves or their allies. Even if they perished, these stones allowed them to be resurrected by returning their souls to their original bodies.
Though Galen wasn't sure if every warlock could use this power, what if they could?
With a sharp tug on the reins, the warhorse spun around in a 180-degree turn. The 500 heavy knights behind him followed, charging back over the corpses of the orc warlocks—again and again. Galen couldn't help but smile.
With all the broken limbs and scattered bodies, if they had the ability to come back to life, he thought, it might be better for them to find a new body altogether.
The knights charged once more, this time focusing on the rear of the orc forces. They had traveled nearly a thousand miles, from the Burning Gorge all the way into Elwynn Forest, long enough to perfect their ability to sustain such long-distance charges.
Gavinrad's Iron Horse Brotherhood had also been making their mark. While Galen and his knights were wiping out the orc warlocks, the Brotherhood had been cutting through orc troops with impressive precision, leaving thousands of bodies in their wake.
However, while the knights were thriving, the infantry had suffered heavy losses. Lacking the knights' raw strength and drawing the orcs' attention, they had become the main targets of the enemy, allowing Galen and his knights to charge unhindered.
The once tightly organized rows of the orc formations had been reduced to a handful. Tower shields had been shattered by berserk orcs, leaving gaps that the sword and shield soldiers scrambled to fill. But the spearmen, trapped inside, were taking devastating casualties.
While the orcs' armor was minimal—only basic shoulder and skirt armor—their resilience allowed them to take soldiers down in their final moments, even as they fell.
Most of the spearmen were now using daggers after their primary weapons had been shattered in close combat. This only added to the already high casualty rate among the infantry. In these close-quarters battles, only tauren warriors seemed capable of holding the orcs back, while troll warriors, though tall, didn't have the strength to match.
There were three major battlefronts on the human side. The first was Anduin Lothar's Iron Horse Brotherhood. With Lothar leading the charge, his mighty sword cleaved through orc after orc as his loyal soldiers followed his every command. The orcs stood no chance against this unstoppable force.
The second was the vanguard of the Lion Legion, commanded by a man Galen didn't know but respected all the same. Like a rock in the sea, his forces stood firm against wave after wave of orcs, their battle flag held high, pulling in scattered human soldiers. What had started as a few phalanxes had become one solid formation, drawing in the full attention of the orcs.
The third was the private army of Duke Marcus. Despite losing more than half their number, the remaining soldiers refused to retreat. Their noble leader had set a strict example—anyone who fled the battlefield would be executed. Galen admired the Duke's resolve, knowing that not many leaders had the courage to take such a stand.
Of the 3,000 noble private soldiers, only about 1,000 remained. These were the elite survivors, hardened by battle and strengthened by their willpower.
The orcs were being slowly ground down across these three fronts. Although human casualties were heavy, the orcs were suffering even more, and the momentum of the battle was beginning to swing in favor of Stormwind.
After what seemed like countless charges, Galen and his knights had reduced the orc ranks to a fraction of their original size. With Lothar leading the cleanup, the last of the 5,000 orcs fell.
Galen recognized the leader of the warlocks—Teron Gorefiend, Gul'dan's apprentice and the future first Death Knight. Teron had overestimated his abilities, challenging Medivh and getting blown away by the powerful mage, only to crash into the mountains to the north.
Medivh, having dealt with Teron , returned to the battlefield to assist Lothar in cleaning up the remaining orcs.
Without their top combatant, the orcs were no longer a real threat. Their innate bravery and rage, fueled by demon blood, allowed them to fight to the bitter end, but their forces were collapsing.
As victory neared for Stormwind, Galen decided to take a small group of knights and track down Teron, who was now in a weakened state.
A legendary soul was within reach, and Medivh had already dealt a near-fatal blow. If Galen didn't seize this opportunity, when would he get another chance?
The northern mountains were now within sight. Galen ordered his knights to split into groups of five and search the area.
Though the forest may have yielded nothing, Galen wasn't willing to let such a rare opportunity slip by. Imagine killing a legendary enemy, capturing his soul, and then summoning him to fight against his former comrades. The thought thrilled him.
As they entered the woods, a knight soon shouted that something had been found. Galen hurried over, only to discover a humanoid-shaped pit. Teron was gone.
Bloodstains led to a tree nearby.
Suddenly, a sense of danger filled the air. Galen called out to the forest.
"Who's there?"