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Patreon Challenge: If I get 100 Paid Patrons then I will officially make writing a job of mine.
Allowing for more consistent updates as well as more Content availability on my Patreon.
Current number: 31/100 (We're nearly 1/3 the way there let's keep going!)
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(AN: Ok guys I have been thinking a lot and I've decided instead of potentially pausing the story to make more extra chapters it would be better that I just increase the chapter lengths to give more content.
Especially since this was something quite a lot of my readers have been wanting and I have a feeling that people have liked the bigger chapters.
In fact this Chapter itself is more than 3000+ words long.
When the Patreon Challenge is complete this would most likely become a permanent change in this story and future ones for now it's random and depending on the plot.
If anyone wants Extra chapters, contribute to the Patreon Challenge, support me and the story as well as get a shout out! Then go to my Patreon and become a fellow Patron member.)
Now onto the story.
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Durkol was NOT having a good time!
After taking care of the humans leader on that failed decapitation strike as well as killing the other human leader, he and the others had thought taking the Fort would be easy.
Humans did tend to scatter and go chaotic when they didn't have someone to tell them what to do, not like Orks who would just start beating eachother and the strongest and biggest one would become the new boss.
Yet reality was cruel, it had been only a few days when they came back after fixing their previous losses and if anything it looked like the place was even more well defended than before!?
He and his Boyz hadn't even reached the main human line to start scraping with them, when they were being picked apart!
Now normally he would at most be a bit annoyed at that since blunt, momentum attacks were a staple of the Orks but no the problem was that his army's momentum was completely blunted and bled out when they actually passed the 3rd defensive line.
Worse, Durkol could see that their relentless wave of Cohesion was also fractured and different Warbands had started hesitating in the charge with some breaking away.
The only reason his Horde was still intact was because they could finally see the human army on their last defensive line in front of the human fort promising a good scrap.
It also helped that the artillery fire had lessened as well as the fact that the human aircrafts and gunships had also retreated.
Durkol didn't like that, he didn't like it one bit feeling like he was being insulted and also because he didn't know what the humans were planning.
But he knew his orders, and also knew that he and his horde had to attack the place, it would be good if they could take it if not he could always come back with another horde by then he would also know more about the human defences.
Ork Warbosses never cared for numbers or casualties especially Black Orks.
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Alastor and Alleria were at the 4th and final defensive line, covered in trenches, bunkers, armoured vehicles, cannons etc as well as three temporary constructed metallic walls 12 meters tall provide additional cover from Ork fire.
Behind the last temporary wall was the Outer Fortress wall with it's own defences ready.
In his full Primarch height donned in his custom power armour from head to toe, even without his Visor's telescopic vision he could clearly see the approaching green tide.
Violent, Brutal, Bloodthirsty but fractured. Which meant the first 3 lines did their job.
Giving Alleria a nod, he activated his helmet's commlink.
"They are in range, All units and combat groups open fire! Priority objective to designated kill-zones."
Also unknown to everyone but Alleria, Alastor took the moment to try out a spell he made, the original move he was inspired by was a technique used by an Order of warrior-monks who made it their duty to protect peace.
He believed this universe was real even if in his foreknowledge it was shown as fiction, if the world he lived in was real why couldn't others be?
Especially when this "spell" had roots in a galaxy far, far away.
Battle Meditation.
Alastor let his will spread across the whole Fortress and defence line, injecting itself in every human under his command with courage, strength and faith.
Considerably boosting their reflexes, coordination, stamina and morale, this combined effect in turn boosts overall combat efficiency of the group or army.
Simultaneously, the user can diminish the morale and coordination of enemies by chipping away their will to fight.
With such a useful technique, Alastor knew he HAD to reverse engineer it into a spell ritual, considering how beneficial it would be in both skirmishes and large scale battles.
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One moment there was silence and the next, A storm of lasers, bullets, plasma flew towards the approaching Tide.
Each battle group targeted a specific zone and unit killing was secondary, the main objective was to lead the tide to the designated areas Alastor marked as Kill-zones.
These specific zones were the true culling would happen under concentrated layers of fire, supported by artillery, armour support and open area for maximum kill ratio.
ALA cannons, Tanks and rockets blew up Trukks, Gorkanauts, Morkanauts, Deff dreads.
Entire lines of soldiers equipped with Helios Rifles killing Orks in large numbers with every second that passed.
Stormboyz that tried to fly over the defensive line found themselves gunned down by the Outer walls mounted AA guns.
Kommandoz that tried to sneak in through gaps to sabotage the defences found that the so-called gaps were in fact deliberate traps before they were either gunned down, sniped or blown up.
Snipers positioned on the Outer Fort's wall by Alastor consistently shot any Ork leader that dared come into their crosshairs from group leaders, Nobs and if they were lucky or skilled enough MegaNobs.
Mages in teams at the back of the line bombarded the Horde with powerful magical rituals, attacking them with freezing blizzards, firestorms, Lightning and arcane barrages.
Burna boys and Tank Bustas could not cause their normal havoc or target the humans armour when they found it hard to even survive inside the Kill-zones much less long enough to leave it to attack!
Orks that did end up leaving the Killzones either due to skill, resilience or using the bodies of their dead brethren did not leave unscathed as they then had to deal with the first line of defence.
Stormwind Knights.
These men and women were people that had either unlocked their gene-factors or had undergone gene surgery by the Science Guild, granting them superhuman physical powers and mental faculties.
Those that decide to become Knights would then undergo rigorous training thereby honing themselves to a blade's edge becoming the Elite units of whichever human kingdom they were part off.
Stormwind had perhaps the largest number of Knights amongst the human Kingdom.
Several thousands of these Elite warriors put down their firearms seeing Orks that escaped the Kill-zones approaching them, as they each drew their preferred melee weapons.
As they grouped together into a impenetrable wall and as soon as the first Ork reached them they began cutting them down without mercy indifferent to their battle crys.
Each Knight also watched their comrades backs and whenever one was injured they would be dragged back by their nearest comrade to receive healing from either medics or priests.
Alleria like a phantom moved across the battlefield with inhumane speed and grace, each shot from her plasma bow killing one or more Orks at once as she especially targeted Ork commanders and special units like MekBoyz and Weirdboyz, causing even more disarray in their ranks.
But perhaps the most awe inspiring sight was in the very middle of the battlefield were most of the surviving Orks from Kill-zones were coming from.
And yet this point was only defended by one man.
Like a giant grey ghost, Alastor blurred across the area the world slowing down to a crawl around him as he left a trail of dead and dismembered Orks wherever he passed.
A Warbiker sped towards him, only for the Alastor to punch it's head off with ease and in the same instant pick the bike up and throw it towards like a spear at high speed towards a Gorkanaut, piercing it's hull and exploding it.
A Meganob yelled "WAAAAGHH" while running towards him only to be pierce by a lightning lance turning most of it's body to slag.
Alastor then shoulder charged right through a speeding Trukk tearing right through it before doing the very same to the Morkanaut behind it.
It's shield doing nothing to stop him as he destroyed it and held the Ork pilot by the neck before slamming him down on the ground with enough force to make a large crater.
Then his hand glowed with a light blue aura as he summoned purified Warp energy and thrust his hand into the sky which was soon filled with clouds and before long several large lightning bolts descended from the sky at the Orks, utterly devastating them.
The Greenskins those that survived started feeling a rare emotion as they looked at the Grey and black armoured monster of a human.
Fear.
No matter what the they threw at him it didn't even phase him!
But for the humans watching it was very different.
It like watching a Grey reaper harvesting lives or an Incarnation of a God of war in action, as he fought without a slightest bit of hesitation, showing an amount of power and skill that only legendary Demigod from Myths possessed.
But most of all what the soldiers that stood behind him saw was his back, Since the battle began he didn't once look behind only in front.
He who purposely fought on the most dangerous front with the most Orks, spread death and destruction amongst their ranks to put the most attention on himself.
It didn't take a genius to know even now while in the midst of battle he was fighting not just to protect Stormwind but them as well.
Instead of being at the fortified command centre he was here at the forefront bearing the brunt to show he stood with them to the last.
The men and women including the most stoic of them felt a large surge of pride, honour and joy, for how great it was to not only fight under the command of a legend such as Alastor.
But for the man in particular to be someone truly worthy of admiration and respect.
Someone truly worthy to be called a Hero.
"FOR THE PRINCE! LONG LIVE THE GREY WOLF!"
"VICTORY IS IN SIGHT!"
Morale on the human's side was in all time high as the human side began completely crushing the Orks.
Just then a mighty roar was heard as a Large Black Ork warboss tore his way through the barrage of destruction and glared at Alastor wielding an axe in one hand and a sword in the other.
Durkol's black power armour had signs of damage but nothing that would hinder it's performance nor did he paid much attention to it as his mind was on the absolute disaster of a attack.
His Horde was mostly gone! Barely anyone of his forces had gotten to fight the humans directly as they were being slaughtered like frakking grots!
They bloody weren't even able to reach the Fort's wall for Gork's sake!
Durkol could already imagine what he would face if he went back, Grimgor wouldn't show him mercy after this disastrous attack no matter the excuse even if he was one of his personal bodyguards.
The thought almost caused him to shiver in fear the only way he could salvage the situation for a bit was if he killed this human leader and brought his head back.
Then maybe his boss would let him off after only breaking half his body.
"Are you Borgut Facebeater of the Ardboys?" Alastor asked in a deceptively calm voice as he turned his helm towards him.
"Oi, I ain't Boss Borgut, ya git! I'z Durkol Eye-Gouger, ya stinky 'umie! I'z da one wot's gonna krump ya good an' take yer 'ead! WAAAGH!"
Durkol didn't see but Alastor was disappointed hoping he could have killed the most likely Ork that incapacitated Anduin.
Durkol charged at Alastor in inhumane amounts of speed yet Alastor didn't move.
When Durkol got in range Alastor took a step back dodging his axe swing before parrying the follow up sword swing with his own sword, Dawn.
Catching the Black Ork off balance after the parry, Alastor with a flick of his wrist sliced off his axe wielding hand.
Credit where it was due Durkol almost ignored his hand being cut off to attack with his sword again only for Alastor to dodge it with a spin while simultaneously cutting deep into both his legs.
Finally piercing Dawn in Durkol's chest before cutting him vertically the rest of the way up causing blood to spray around them before the corpse fell to the ground.
The human side looked shocked, and why wouldn't they this was a Black Ork warboss! as many of them have been stationed at Fort Clover they knew how terrifying Warbosses could be ESPECIALLY Black Ork Warbosses which were worse in every category.
"Did he....just..."
"Captain are you sure you didn't exaggerate when talking about Black Orks?"
"NO I DIDN'T! Its the Prince who's beyond common sense not them!"
When Durkol appeared going through hail of fire, explosions and debris they expected a hard fought duel only to see Alastor kill him in moments like he was nothing?
The shock lasted only for a moment more before the entire human side erupted in almost maddened cheers!
"ALASTOR! ALASTOR! ALASTOR! ALASTOR! ALASTOR! ALASTOR!"
"GREY WOLF! GREY WOLF! GREY WOLF! GREY WOLF!"
The Orks on the other hand felt whatever will they had crumble seeing their powerful Warboss killed so easily as well as they completely broke apart and ran back to the deeper Savage Lands.
Despite it being one battle they already developed a burgeoning fear for Alastor.
Alastor's helmet collapsed back into his armour as he exhaled and looked around to assess the damage and frowned seeing human corpses as well even if they were far lower than the Orks.
Stray bullets, suicidal Ork charges, Melee and even Stormboyz crashing into human lines in a blaze of glory.
War had deaths and the best he could do was honour the fallen and give their sacrifice meaning.
But that didn't mean he would stop trying his best to lower the casualties as much as possible.
Seeing many injured men and women especially amongst the Knights who were cheering and celebrating despite their injuries, Alastor summoned a massive amount of Holy Light that resided in his soul after being made a Saint.
He glowed in a holy gold colour before in a display that many Paladins could only dream off, thrust his hand in the sky once more unleashing a beam of Holy light that spread across the human's side of the battlefield in a golden dome.
The Cheers stopped for a moment as everyone watched the miraculous display in awe as great amounts of Holy Light covered them.
Many priests got on their knees in joy at seeing such a miracle from a Saint of the Light and began praying earnestly.
Many men and women who were also injured saw their wounds start closing and the injuries healing at a fast pace.
When the Golden dome dispersed, the cheers came back louder as everyone began following Alastor inside the Fortress once more.
But not before Alastor gave orders for the Ork Corpses to be burned, as for the spores, he decided that after taking care of the situation in the Savage Lands he would also look into a effective way to deal with Ork spores.
By the Aspects, he was getting busy.
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Far away from the battlefield, Gul'dan and Grimgor along with many powerful Black Orks watched the battle atop a hill using a glass Orb that projected the battle for all of them to see.
Gul'dan frowned seeing the disaster of a battle. 'He has grown far more than what we've expected'.
Once again Gul'dan wondered if it was a mistake on Malak's part to allow the Primarch to grow inhibited even if he had to agree with that fool Ramsey.
The Other Black Orks surrounding them were all the strongest and most fierce of their kind since they were all Grimgor's infamous bodyguards, Da Immortulz.
And all of them were very excited seeing the utter carnage and bloodshed even if it was brought to one of their own.
If anything many of them mocked and made fun of Durkol seeing him struggle in his attack even when he was killed.
But it was Grimgor who had the biggest and most bloodthirsty smile as he looked at the Grey clad human giant.
This! This was what he had been wanting! A proper opponent! someone he could try to kill and wouldn't break the first few minutes of their fight.
Even just seeing him through a daemonic screen, Grimgor knew that this guy was far beyond most of the so called heroes he had killed centuries ago.
He wasn't this excited even when he had slaughtered all the Black Iron Dwarves and wanted to immediately just grab his axe and rush over so he could fight him.
As if knowing what was going through his head, Gul'dan gave him a tired annoyed look like an elder being forced to look after a hulking Ork-child.
"For the last time, No! We still need to gather a large enough force for the next attack no thanks to Durkol the surviving Orks coming back won't even be a tenth of the force he had left with."
Grimgor's smile disappeared as he growled in frustration. "zoggin hell! 'Ow long's dat gonna take, ya grot!!"
"Days at least, perhaps a week."
"WHAT!?"
"You've spent so long asleep beneath your mountain brooding, you can wait for a few more days THEN you can have your fill killing the Primarch, all the humans in that fort and whoever you want in Azeroth!"
If this was Grimgor centuries ago, he wouldn't have cared but pass 100 years had truly starved the legendary Ork for some proper entertainment.
And with that came a small bit (Even by Ork standards) of patience.
Grimgor grunted and moved back down the hill to his gathering army but for Gul'dan it looked like a petulant child who was barely appeased.
'I will NEVER understand how in what way did Gork and Mork decide to make this fool one of their favoured Champions!'
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