Harry Potter: Journey to Godhood

On the walls of Stormwind, the sudden burst of magical sparks illuminated the battlefield, momentarily stunning the orc warriors below.

Most of the orcs were distracted by the sparks, thinking that such an extravagant display must be a prelude to some strange magic.

The rhythm of the battlefield was halted by this unexpected event.

The orcs stopped in their tracks, looking up at the sky, ready to flee at a moment's notice if things took a turn for the worse.

However, after a few seconds, they realized that nothing was happening.

As the sparks dissipated and the light faded, no unusual circumstances arose.

This magical spark was merely a feint; it looked impressive, but it had no real effect.

With this thought, the orcs resumed their assault on Stormwind.

However, the ordinary orcs weren't particularly intelligent, while their leaders had a clearer understanding.

Especially Gul'dan, the powerful warlock, who absolutely did not believe that the mage capable of confronting him within Stormwind would intentionally set off a useless display.

—There must be deeper meaning behind this magic.

—If this wasn't a failed magical trigger, then the magic's purpose was simply the light and shadow effects themselves.

—In other words...

Gul'dan furrowed his two brows, feeling that things were not so simple.

At that moment, he suddenly noticed that the ground was trembling slightly.

Initially, the tremors were barely noticeable, but soon the sensation became much more apparent, as if thousands of horses were galloping...

—No, it was indeed thousands of horses galloping!

Gul'dan suddenly realized that the magical spark wasn't some strange magic but a signal—a spell used to convey a message.

—The human army had long laid an ambush behind them.

—How cunning!

Gul'dan immediately cast a spell, summoning a magical eye before him. He waved his hand, and the eye soared into the sky, heading towards the orc camp.

Through the magical eye, Gul'dan witnessed an astonishing scene:

A long shadowy line of figures burst forth from Elwynn Forest, racing toward the orc camp.

Due to the darkness of the night, even the magical eye struggled to discern who this group was. 

However, from the vibrations of the earth and the continuous dull thud, it was clear that this group was vast.

Suddenly, the front of the line ignited with fire as a human knight in ornate armor lit a torch, illuminating the surroundings.

Through the torchlight, it became evident that the area was filled with human cavalry who had been hiding in Elwynn Forest. 

To conceal their presence, they hadn't even lit torches, and their steeds had cloth tied to their hooves to muffle the sound.

They had clearly been planning this for a long time.

As the first torch blazed to life, it triggered a chain reaction; the entire long shadowy line began to ignite their torches. 

In just a few seconds, a shining dragon of light appeared at the edge of Elwynn Forest, steadily advancing toward the orc camp.

This long line of figures consisted of at least several thousand.

This number of cavalry represented the last remnants of the Stormwind Kingdom's power.

—Had they been hiding there for a day or two?

Gul'dan was startled by his own speculation.

However, the more he thought about it, the more reasonable it became. If that weren't the case, the orc scouts would have surely detected the movement of this cavalry long ago.

Yet the orc scouts had found nothing while probing the area around the camp—not even a shadow or hoofprint of the cavalry. 

This could only mean that the humans had completed their ambush and concealed their traces, waiting for them to take the bait.

Such a sharp blade was hidden right beside the orcs, and when the orcs were asleep, this blade would deliver a fatal blow.

Kilrog had even been deceived into sending away the last line of defense.

Perhaps due to overconfidence or misled by Gul'dan's information, Kilrog believed that Stormwind was exerting all its efforts to defend the city—after all, the Twilight Hammer had even humbly sought his aid. 

Thus, Kilrog diverted some of his soldiers to support Gul'dan, including a portion of the Night Watch.

Indeed, with such a desperate defense, how could the humans possibly have the strength to launch a surprise attack? And from where could they strike?

(Note: Stormwind is built by the mountains and the sea; besides the dock, there is only one direction to leave the city.)

Now, he was paying the price for his negligence.

Under the command of Anduin Lothar, the royal knight of Stormwind, this army, composed of nearly all the cavalry strength of the Stormwind Kingdom, charged toward the orc camp.

They rushed forward like a howling lead cloud, like a volcano erupting, like a flood pouring down... thousands of horses took off together, and even with their hooves wrapped in cloth, the sound reverberated like thunder in the deep night.

As they approached the camp, the sound grew even more shocking!

Finally, a wave of panicked alarm bells rang out in the orc camp.

"Enemy attack!"

With this cry, the orc camp began to awaken, and a flurry of commotion spread rapidly through the troops. Numerous bleary-eyed orc soldiers stumbled out of their tents, and their first sight was the cavalry looming over them like a dark cloud.

The powerful steeds and gleaming armor, illuminated by the fires of the night, heralded the arrival of death.

With a clang!

The foremost Anduin Lothar drew his great sword—the Stormwind Greatsword, Quel'Serrar, inscribed with golden runes—and pointed it toward the orcs.

"For the Stormwind Kingdom! Follow me to kill!"

"For the Stormwind Kingdom!"

The cavalry behind him roared in response, leveling their lances.

The orcs' simple barricades couldn't withstand even a second against these fierce cavalry. Lothar easily broke a massive hole through it with a single swing of his sword. 

The panicked orc soldiers stared in terror at this army, which seemed to have descended from the heavens, as it crashed through their defenses like a flood pouring into a sheep pen.

The slaughter of death began.

Faced with the swift charge of lances and longswords, the newly awakened orcs, who were still unarmed, couldn't muster even a semblance of resistance, losing their lives in an instant. 

Many more orcs died in their sleep, never even having the chance to wake up before becoming souls under the swords.

The cavalry wove through the various tents of the camp, bringing the judgment of death with their blades. 

The chaotic camp had turned into a scene of carnage, with piles of fallen bodies and a river of accumulated blood. All orcs who dared to stand against the cavalry were crushed in an instant!

Many cavalrymen were too lazy to even swing their swords, directly using torches to ignite anything flammable, including food supplies, tents, stacked wood, and oil, transforming the flames into even more terrifying agents of death, consuming the orcs who had no chance to struggle within the tents at an astonishing efficiency.

The entire orc camp had descended into chaos.

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