Just as the Blackhand brothers were sailing back, the Alliance finally launched a full-scale offensive against the Horde entrenched in the Arathi Highlands.
Lothar led the Alliance's main force out from behind the Wall of Thoradin.
These troops, who had been resting and itching for a fight for far too long, charged forward with the ferocity of dragons and tigers, catching the Horde off guard and leaving them scrambling to respond.
At the same time, King Thoras Trollbane of Stromgarde, who had been hiding within Stromgarde Keep, finally abandoned his defensive stance.
The army of Stromgarde launched a surprise attack on the Horde from the rear, catching them completely off guard.
The Horde had always considered the possibility of a sudden sortie from Stromgarde Keep.
But after months of surrounding the city, and even during Alaric's cavalry harassment of their rear, such an attack had never come.
Eventually, the Horde gradually relaxed their vigilance toward Stromgarde. Apart from routine skirmishes every few days, they had almost no defensive measures in place.
Now, they were finally paying the price for their complacency.
Fueled by the rage of a king whose nation had been occupied, Thoras led his brave Stromgarde warriors in a vengeful assault against the Horde.
Under the pressure of this two-front attack, the Horde suffered a devastating defeat.
Even with Orgrim personally commanding, he could only barely maintain order, retreating steadily while trying to prevent a total collapse.
Orgrim knew very well: once a strategic withdrawal turned into a rout, the Horde's casualties would skyrocket.
Thus, under relentless pursuit from the Alliance, Orgrim led his forces in retreat all the way to the Thandol Span, abandoning everything they had gained in the Arathi Highlands. In the end, they fled across the sea into the Wetlands.
This decision was a clear sign. The Horde had admitted defeat. They acknowledged that this war had become nothing more than a waste of lives and resources.
For Orgrim, the decision also meant something deeply personal, proof that he, as Warchief, had made a grave mistake. He had led his people into a fiery abyss.
Once the war ended, he might very well lose his position as Warchief altogether.
Yet he felt no regret.
To him, the only goal that mattered now was ensuring the survival of his troops, getting as many orcs as possible out of Lordaeron alive.
Unfortunately, the Alliance showed no mercy to the retreating orcs.
Faced with a fleeing enemy, neither Lothar nor Alaric gave the order to halt pursuit.
This long and deadly chase stretched from the Arathi Highlands through the Wetlands, and finally into Khaz Modan.
In truth, Orgrim had his reasons for retreating into Khaz Modan.
Even if the Horde had to suffer greater casualties along the way, he was willing to pay the price.
Because in his heart, the war wasn't over yet.
Khaz Modan was the homeland of the dwarves.
Earlier, when the Horde had tried to pass through that region, the dwarves had proved formidable opponents.
But in the face of the Horde's overwhelming strength, their mountain fortresses eventually fell, except for Ironforge, which still held out in bitter resistance.
Orgrim had left Kilrogg Deadeye and his Bleeding Hollow clan in Khaz Modan to oversee the mining operations.
The resources collected there were essential for replenishing their weapons and building their fleet.
If Orgrim could lead his warriors there and reunite with Kilrogg, he would once again have a powerful army at his disposal.
The Bleeding Hollow clan was second only to the Blackrock clan in all of Draenor.
With their strength, they could turn back and crush the Alliance forces that were pursuing them. That would give the Horde a chance to halt its losses and recover.
The upcoming battle would be a bitter one.
A temporary pause for recovery would further delay their plans for continental conquest, but at least half of the Eastern Kingdoms would still remain under their control.
They could consolidate their hold there and wait for the tides to turn.
In that light, things weren't completely hopeless.
But then, bad news plunged Orgrim into deep despair once again.
"Humans!" An orcish scout came rushing in, panting heavily, and dropped to his knees before Orgrim. "They're east of us!"
Doomhammer's eyes widened at the report.
"East? Are you sure?"
He trusted the scout wasn't lying.
Which meant the real question was, how had the humans, who had been chasing them all the way from the northwest, suddenly appeared to the east?
Then it struck him, human and elven cavalry.
Compared to the Horde, the Alliance was clearly more adept at deploying highly mobile units.
Human cavalry charges could easily break orc lines on the battlefield, and the high elven mounted archers were particularly troublesome with their constant harassment.
The Horde had suffered greatly from them in earlier battles.
Clearly, if any Alliance force could have looped around to the east, it had to be cavalry.
Their appearance instantly put the Horde in a dangerous situation.
If Orgrim wasn't careful, his forces would be caught between two Alliance armies, front and rear, and lose their last chance to escape, let alone hope for victory.
"How many troops in that force?" he asked the scout, who was now guzzling water.
"Several hundred, maybe more." The orc frowned, thinking for a moment. "Many wore heavy armor. Oh, and lots of them had long ears and carried bows."
Doomhammer's face twisted in frustration, so it was them.
He turned away, swinging his warhammer violently to vent his fury.
Damn them! Human heavy cavalry and elven mounted archers, working together, they could block his retreat while their allies caught up from behind.
And the Horde was still days away from Khaz Modan.
He had yet to see a single warrior from the Bleeding Hollow clan.
He had no choice. Doomhammer looked up, locking eyes with Saurfang.
"Pick up the pace," he ordered his lieutenant. "Full speed. No rest. We need to reach Khaz Modan, as fast as possible!"
Saurfang nodded and hurried off to pass the orders to the rest of the orcs.
Watching his warriors rush away, Doomhammer let out a roar of rage.
Running felt too much like losing. It was the last thing he ever wanted to imagine. But now, he couldn't afford to risk a battle.
He had to find the Bleeding Hollow clan first. Only then could he turn around and face the Alliance under somewhat equal terms.
He swore, when that day came, he would make the Alliance feel the full fury of the orcs.
The number of Horde warriors who had fallen along this retreat grew by the hour, and he would make the enemy pay for every single life.
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