Crossing Azeroth, starting with the Heroes of Might and Magic system

The sound of the thunder bomb magic in Varian's hand was deafening, like a sudden explosion of thunder in the sky!

This powerful force instantly hit the Red Dragon Queen, causing her considerable damage. Such an astonishing scene shocked the orc warlock Nekros, who was concentrating on using the Demon Soul to control the Red Dragon not far away.

Seeing that the Red Dragon Queen was in an increasingly dangerous situation under the attack from the green dragon and Varian, and might suffer a fatal blow and die at any time, Nekros was anxious and frantically controlled the Red Dragon Queen to fly rapidly backwards, trying to temporarily avoid the crisis.

However, Varian did not pursue the Red Dragon Queen. He just slapped the back of the Pegasus, and the Pegasus turned around and galloped towards the orc army like an arrow. In the blink of an eye, Varian had already arrived at the center of the battlefield.

At this moment, Varian sat steadily on Pegasus, his figure as tall as a towering mountain, motionless. His deep eyes flashed with an unwavering light, like the brightest star in the night sky, which was impossible to ignore.

At the same time, a powerful magical energy slowly flowed and swirled around his body, as if it would burst out at any time and set off a devastating storm.

The sky was already covered by thick dark clouds, and it was gloomy and depressing. Bursts of low thunder came from the distant sky, appearing and disappearing from time to time.

Varian took a deep breath, quickly formed seals with his hands, and chanted an ancient spell. That was a power that only a true master of magic could control.

Suddenly, a bright blue light shot out from Varian's palm, twisting and turning in the air like a snake, and instantly split into several tiny electric chains, which hit the orc warriors in front accurately with crackling thunder.

These chain lightnings jumped between the orcs, and each time they touched, dazzling sparks burst out, accompanied by the orcs' shrill wails. They were penetrated by the electric current, their bodies trembled constantly, and some were even knocked to the ground by the powerful electric energy, losing their combat effectiveness.

Just as the residual power of the chain lightning had not yet dissipated, bursts of roars were heard in the sky, and a formation composed of a large number of Pegasus long-range knights flew over like a dark cloud.

The Pegasus spread their huge wings and circled in the air. The knights sat firmly on them, with the bows and arrows in their hands flashing cold light.

Following the commander's order, dense arrows poured down like raindrops. Each arrow contained enough power to penetrate the orcs' heavy armor, knocking the orc troops below to the ground, with wails of grief rising one after another.

At the same time, on the distant horizon, several bombers roared across the sky, their figures standing out in the afterglow of the setting sun.

As the altitude decreased, the gun muzzle on the belly of the bomber began to spew out hot flames, and heavy bombs were accurately dropped onto the area where the orcs were gathering.

The explosion was deafening, dust and flames intertwined into one, the huge shock wave threw the orcs on the ground into the air, and the flames produced by the explosion illuminated half of the sky, turning the battlefield into a purgatory on earth.

After these three consecutive attacks, the formation of the orc troops was completely disrupted and their morale was at its lowest point.

Varian was flying in the air, watching all this, with a hint of barely perceptible relief flashing across his eyes. He knew that victory in this battle was within reach.

At the rear of the battlefield, Orgrim, the warrior leader of the Orcish Horde, was standing on a huge rock, staring with sharp eyes at the area in front of him that was covered by chain lightning and arrows.

His face was stern, his brows were furrowed, and his heart was filled with complex emotions.

Orgrim knew very well that the situation on the battlefield was changing rapidly, but the scene before him forced him to face up to a cruel reality - Varian's offensive was too fierce, the orc troops suffered heavy casualties, and their morale was on the verge of collapse.

He could feel an indescribable sense of despair in the air, which was a sign of defeat.

Although his heart was filled with resentment and anger, Orgrim was also a far-sighted commander.

He understood that if he continued to fight on, more of his people would die in vain, and the hope of victory would become increasingly slim.

So he took a deep breath, temporarily suppressed the struggle and pain in his heart, and gave a low and firm command: "Retreat!"

Soon, the horn of retreat echoed on the battlefield. Although it was weak, it was like thunder, exploding in the hearts of the orc warriors.

They were stunned for a moment, then quickly reacted and began to evacuate quickly to the rear.

Despite the enemy's relentless pursuit and artillery fire, the orc warriors showed amazing discipline and resilience. They supported each other, minimized casualties as much as possible, and retreated to a safe direction.

But how could Varian let the orcs retreat safely?

Following Varian's order, the human coalition army was like an activated steel torrent, displaying an unprecedented fierce offensive. The residual power of the chain lightning had not yet completely dissipated, and the rain of arrows from the Pegasus ranged knights followed one after another, and each arrow was like a messenger of death, accurately harvesting the lives of the orcs.

In the sky, the roar of bombers and the sound of explosions on the ground intertwined to form a soul-stirring war song.

Under this devastating blow, the orc army's retreat rhythm was completely disrupted. The orc warriors, who were originally as ferocious as tigers, were now like beasts trapped in a quagmire, and every step seemed extremely difficult.

Their shields were pierced by arrows, their armor was deformed by the explosion, and their morale collapsed in despair.

Varian stood in front of the formation, his eyes sharp, and every wave of his hand was accompanied by a more fierce attack.

His figure seemed to become a beacon in the hearts of the human coalition forces, guiding them in the direction of advancement. Under his leadership, the human coalition forces advanced forward like a tide, pushing the orcs back step by step.

Although the orcs fought hard, facing such a powerful offensive, Chieftain Orgrim had no choice but to admit that defeat was inevitable.

Although he issued the order to retreat, the retreat had now turned into an embarrassing rout.

The orc warriors fled in all directions in the chaos, some tried to find cover, while others simply dropped their weapons, hoping to escape from this land of death.

On the battlefield, the cheers of humans and the wails of orcs intertwined, forming a sharp contrast. Varian's fierce offensive not only repelled the orcs' attack, but also made them pay a heavy price.

In this battle, the human coalition demonstrated strong fighting power and firm will, while the orcs had to face the bitterness of defeat.