Chapter 141: Battle with the Tribe

He had assumed that Orgrim Doomhammer would be significantly less formidable than legendary warriors like Grommash Hellscream or Varok Saurfang. He believed his Arcane Shield for defense, bolstered by a spatial restriction woven with his psychic energy, would be more than enough to counter the Doomhammer.

The result, however, was a shock. That powerful strike slammed directly into the spatial restriction within his shield, nearly shattering his mental barrier. Such a consequence forced Patrick to focus with every ounce of his being.

Recalling that massive hammer, glowing with the crimson fury that was the hallmark of a warrior’s strength, he realized the danger. Had it not been for Alen’s warning, Patrick might have been struck in the very first exchange. While perhaps not a direct hit, his surrounding psychic defenses had already been compromised. A defeat for the leader would lead to the collapse of his entire army, and if word of such a failure spread, Patrick would never be able to hold his head high in Quel'Thalas again.

"I cannot afford to be arrogant," Patrick thought. His long period of smooth sailing had led him to idealize the battlefield. Recalling that sparking blow, he knew he had to respect this new Warchief of the Horde.

Every prominent character in the annals of Azeroth possessed strength that could not be underestimated. Anyone who could carve their name among the heroes of the world surely possessed extraordinary abilities.

Orgrim, seeing Patrick blink to a distance, felt a flicker of disdain. He had expected his strike to land, only to find it blocked by an invisible barrier in the air, and his enemy had instantly repositioned to his flank.

"Kagh?" Orgrim grunted in standard Orcish, his tone laced with mockery.

Without hesitation, Orgrim gave his enemy no time to catch their breath and launched another heavy strike.

Patrick was not idle. His mind began channeling metamagic techniques, firing a rapid succession of Arcane Missiles that struck the hammer, the Orc’s fingers, and his joints, successfully repelling the Doomhammer’s second assault.

Seizing the moment while Orgrim adjusted his grip, Patrick utilized Arcane Mimicry to instantly freeze the surrounding magical energy, sending a Frost Shock straight at the Warchief.

The Orc Warchief raised the Doomhammer once more, smashing it into the Frost Shock and shattering the spell instantly. However, the icy shrapnel clung to Orgrim’s arms, the intense frostbite leaving the Orc feeling somewhat numb.

...

As the two traded blows, Orgrim realized something was wrong. The enemy leader was a highly skilled spellcaster with the ability to teleport. Yet, the enemy seemed to focus primarily on passive defense, using offensive magic only sparingly, with the chilling effects of those frost spells making Orgrim feel incredibly frustrated and stifled.

At that moment, Orgrim roared, "Gul'dan!"

The old Orc, who had remained stationary until now, stepped forward slowly until he stood beside Orgrim, both of them facing Patrick.

Two against one. There were no such rules on the battlefield; only the victors were entitled to discuss concepts like martial honor or chivalry. Defeat? For an Orc, defeat meant death—what use were such hollow concepts then?

Patrick felt a surge of tension. Gul'dan, the renowned Orc warlock. Although the death of Medivh had implicated him and caused his power to plummet from legendary status back to the ninth rank, Gul'dan remained the premier warlock of the Orcs.

As a fellow master spellcaster, Gul'dan understood the art of combat. His psychic energy surged instantly, locking onto his target.

"Curse of Agony!"
"Curse of Corruption!"
"Curse of Tongues!"

Gul'dan opened with three major curses, the last being a particularly vile skill specifically designed to hinder spellcasters.

Black, spiderweb-like curse patterns instantly spread across Patrick’s Arcane Shield, causing the outer energy barrier to hiss as it was corroded by shadow magic.

A powerful shadow node formed near his head—Gul'dan’s Curse of Tongues attempting to penetrate the shield to impair Patrick’s casting speed, creating an opening for Orgrim.

The Warchief did not disappoint. Wiggling his fingers to loosen his joints, he raised the Doomhammer and charged at Patrick once more, utilizing his signature combination of Charge and Mortal Strike.

"You can't dodge this time," Orgrim thought.

Patrick offered a scornful smile. He immediately cast Remove Curse, prioritizing the removal of the Curse of Tongues. As for the Curse of Corruption and Curse of Agony, his Arcane Shield held them at bay; they merely cost him a bit more mana. With the Sun City behind him and Alen providing full support within his sea of consciousness, the extra mana consumption was irrelevant.

Originally, Patrick had intended to use this war of attrition to toy with Orgrim, waiting for the moment of exhaustion or negligence to capture him—a simple "boiling the frog" tactic to end the Orcish invasion in one stroke. Who would have thought that after a few rounds, the Warchief would call upon Gul'dan, catching Patrick off guard?

Deciding to end the battle quickly was undoubtedly the right choice. Orgrim was indeed a capable Warchief—he was excellent at spotting opportunities, firmly grasping favorable conditions, and maintaining control over the unpredictable chaos of the battlefield.

Watching Orgrim charge forward with his hammer raised, Patrick’s expression remained unreadable. Silently directing his psychic energy, he activated Multicast and Arcane Empowerment. As he focused his mind, he prepared to give Orgrim a major surprise.

The distance between them closed. The massive Doomhammer was about to make contact with Patrick’s Arcane Shield when, suddenly, the change occurred. The surrounding arcane energy erupted with violent force. Centered on Patrick, the shockwave of an Arcane Explosion rippled outward, and the first to bear the brunt of the impact was Orgrim Doomhammer.

The fierce arcane pulses continued for several rounds. Combined with Multicast and Arcane Empowerment, the shock effect of multiple powerful Arcane Explosions was devastating. As Orgrim charged in, just inches from contact, he was struck by the powerful recoil, sent flying backward through the air, and kicking up a massive cloud of dust.

Elves and Orcs alike were drawn to the violent explosion, momentarily forgetting they were in the midst of a battle. As the dust settled, they saw Patrick still standing in his original position, while Orgrim was scrambling to get back on his feet, swaying unsteadily.

A cheer erupted from the elves behind him. The tide of battle shifted; the pressure from the Horde coalition was broken, and they began to push back against the Orcs. The territory that had been constantly shrinking now held firm.