Chapter 33 Chapter Thirty-Two

The body of the great patriarch Kane Bloodhoof was carefully wrapped in an exquisite shroud, which was spun and painted with the colors of Mother Earth—yellow, brown and green.According to the tradition of the tauren, a cremation ceremony will be held for the deceased.The body was placed on top of the pyre, and a blazing fire was lit below.The ashes returned to the earth, and the blue smoke rose into the sky.Only such noble dead can be accepted by Mother Earth and Father Sky at the same time, and Anshe and Musha will witness their passing. Thrall, as always, wore the armor Orgrim? Doomhammer bequeathed him, though it was somewhat bulky.Thrall slowly climbed up so that he could be at level with Cain's body, his vision blurred by tears.

Thrall hurried back to Azeroth together with Agra.After a brief meeting with Baine, Thrall offered to spend some time alone with Kane.His request was granted.There will be long talks, planning and preparations ahead.But Thrall just sat for a long time beside his old friend, letting the sun slowly set in the blue sky of Mulgore. Finally, Thrall took a deep breath and said softly, "Cain, my old friend... are you still here?" Loved ones talk.Give warning, advice, or just a blessing. Either way is fine for Thrall. But his words were carried away with the fragrant breeze, and received no echo.Sal lowered his head.

"So I was really alone, and you really left me, old friend," he said, "and then I couldn't ask your advice, or ask your pardon, which I could have done." of." The only answer to him was a gentle sigh. "The two of us parted in anger that day. We were two people who had never quarreled, and we were two people who had known each other for a long time and should know that we should not be separated like this. I was frustrated by my incompetence, but I turned my anger on you. I I've never done anything like this before, and now I'm reaping the bitter fruit. Now that you've been killed by a traitor and you're here, I can no longer look you in the eye and tell you that my heart breaks because of it."

The tone of his voice changed accordingly, and Thrall paused for a moment to regain his composure, even though there was no one around but birds and beasts.At this moment, he felt that the armor on his body was heavy and hot. "Your son... Kane, I want to tell you that you must be very proud of Bane, even though I know you have always been proud of him. He is your son, and he can continue to write your A legend for what he fought for. He was not dazzled by pain. He gave up his burning desires so that your people might live in peace. There is peace again among the tauren, and I know that your greatest Long-cherished wish. Despite the horrors of the abyss, like that dark and terrible night-even then, the spirit of your people and the tribe has not died.

"The Grimtotems are now an open enemy, and they're no longer the tricksters you care about, ruthlessly plotting attacks while defrauding your trust. The tauren will no longer be caught flat-footed by them—never. As for Garr Rush...I sincerely believe he didn't know about Magatha's betrayal. He has a lot of flaws, but he is definitely not a cunning killer. He will hope to win justice and revel in it as glory. He..." His voice gradually lowered.His dear friend was murdered, and a massacre ensued, all of which drove him wild.He was delighted that the tauren were able to regain peace under Baine's wise leadership.But other than that...

"Kane," he said slowly, "I created this tribe. I inspired them, I gave them purpose and direction. But... now this responsibility, this purpose seems to... no longer belong to me. When my How can you lead them when your attention is elsewhere?" His intuition, once so accurate, is not as sharp as it used to be.He buried his face in his hands, the movement making the black plate creak.He felt—lost.pain.He once again saw himself standing in front of the mist of the phantom trial, deeply gripped by fear and helplessness, and his armor shattered and fell off.He was horrified to realize that any more distracted leadership, with thoughts, hearts, and concerns elsewhere, would eventually drive the tribe toward civil war.Regardless of his disapproval of Garrosh's actions when he left, it was he who appointed Hellscream Jr. to be acting warchief.He deserves as much responsibility as Garrosh.And, as far as could be proven in the end, all the kid did wrong was accept the challenge and exaggerate the consequences.He couldn't let the Horde see himself and Garrosh fighting over it.

"I never told you before, and now I regret it. Do you know?" He continued softly, "In my heart, you have always been the soul of the tribe, Kane! You, and the tauren. When the tribe At a time when many of us yearn to take the path of war and darkness, you listen to the wisdom of Mother Earth, exhorting us to find other ways and think otherwise. You remind us of forgiveness and compassion. You are our hearts, we A real spiritual pillar." As he fumbled for words, Thrall knew it was time to trust his inner guidance.It leads itself away from Orgrimmar, away from the Horde, towards a fierce and passionate young shaman, Aggra, and the path of orcish glory she represents.

And it leads him to the center of the world. He closed his eyes in pain.He didn't wish he had made the right choice.It's just too tough; it's going to create huge waves and hurt too many people.He had many reasons for staying, all sounding sensible and reasonable, all of them vital.There is only one reason for leaving, and it is mysterious and vague.But it's the right choice.This is the only option.A gust of wind blew by, gently tugging at his hair, but deeply touching his soul.He felt a tingle on his skin, realizing that he had made a choice. He has seen, seen very clearly what to do.If he continues the way of the warchief, he will fail.There's only one way he can save the Horde -- and his world.

He knows what to do. Thrall stood up slowly.The setting sun—Anshe the tauren called it—cast its light on the black plate armor.Then, slowly, Thrall began to shed the armor.He first unfastened the shoulder armor and let it slide off.They landed on the soft green grass with a sweet sound.Next he began to undo the breastplate.When Doomhammer was slain, the cowardly blow - the spear from behind - pierced the carapace and left a dent on the inside of the breastplate.Thrall had this damage repaired so it could continue to be worn. One after another.He took off Orgrim Doomhammer's armor, the Warchief's armor of the Horde, and piled them together respectfully.Thrall took out a simple brown robe from his backpack, put it on over his head, and hung a string of rosary beads around his neck.He remembered Aggra's words again: We don't wear armor at initiations.Induction is a new life, not a battle.Like a snake shedding its skin, we bid farewell to our past selves.We need to let go of our burdens and put aside the narrow thoughts and concepts of the past.We need to keep ourselves simple and clean, ready to communicate with the elements and let them write wisdom into our souls.

He took off his boots and stood up, his big green feet in the loam.He spread his arms, raised his head, and closed his blue eyes to welcome the dusk.Not as a Warchief in suits.That wasn't who he was, not anymore.The elements had been revealed to him.But it took him a while to do it - he chose to give up his armor and the title of warchief rather than have them forcibly taken away.The choice lay before him—and he made his decision calmly and autonomously. Thrall is a shaman.His responsibilities are no longer limited to the Horde, but are also connected to Azeroth itself.The elementals call to his aid, asking him to save them from the terrible looming disaster.Or, if he didn't stop it in time, continue to heal them.The warm and gentle breeze strengthened a little bit, stroking him approvingly.

Thrall lowered his head and opened his eyes, focusing on his old friend's body for the last time.Anshe, who sank westward, drew a clear outline for Thunder Bluff, and cast the last afterglow on the body.Kane's broad chest displays all the ornaments he wore in life - feathers, beads and bones.and something else.It was several broken pieces of wood, with blood and nicks on them. Thrall realized that in front of him was the famous Bloodhoof Runespear, which was shattered by Gorehowl as Garrosh delivered the coup de grace. Realizing this brought a fresh, painful sense of loss in him.Thrall knew that the pain he had felt before was but a pale illusion in comparison.And he lost the kindness, wisdom and humor of his old friend, and he will regret it all his life. Impulsively, Thrall leaped gracefully onto the woodpile.The logs of the pyre wobbled under his weight, but steadied themselves.Thrall reached out a hand to Kane's brow, and gently and respectfully picked up the smallest piece of the runespear that had been broken.He turned it around in his hands, shivering involuntarily. The fragment he was holding had a rune engraved on it: Healing.He will keep this fragment to always remember Kane and communicate with him at all times. Thrall jumped down lightly, and walked slowly towards the setting sun.He never looked back. After the sun went down, the evening wind was a little piercing, Thrall was thinking.He still has a lot of things to discuss with Baine, and more plans to draw up.But before that, Thrall longed to sit quietly with Agra in this peaceful land for a while.She had never been here before, but she felt the warmth and tranquility of this place just like him.she-- Far away on another continent, Drek'Thar, who was dozing, jumped up suddenly, and a scream burst out from his throat. "The sea will boil!" The bottom of the sea cracked open, and in the distant stormy port, the tide receded suddenly like a curtain.The ship suddenly sank and ran aground, and the townspeople, who had taken a pleasant afternoon stroll along the beautiful stone harbor, stopped, shielded their eyes from the glow of the setting sun, and whispered to each other curiously. The retreat of the sea was but an instant, and then returned with a deadly surge.Mountainous waves swept across the port.The great ships that had sailed to Auberdine and Dauntless Hold were smashed to pieces like toys trampled underfoot by angry children.Wreckage and bodies were thrown on the pier, smashing them to pieces with ease and speed.The tide was overwhelming and swept away the screaming pedestrians.The water level rose, mercilessly engulfing the war vehicles and crates full of medical supplies. It didn't stop, however, and continued to climb until the huge stone lions overlooking the harbor were also completely submerged.At this moment, the water level is only showing signs of stopping. Far to the south, on the coastline of Westfall, a massive sinkhole was formed by the cracking of the earth.The ocean, furious and terrified, vented its terror upon the earth, and the earth responded with despair. Drek'Thar grabbed Palka tightly, shook him and shouted, "The earth will cry, and the world will break!" The ground at Thrall's feet burst open. He jumped sideways, rolled when he landed and quickly stood up, only to be knocked down again.The ground under his feet surged up violently, as if riding on the back of a giant beast, lifting him straight up.He clung to the ground, unable to get up or escape.Even if you can escape, where can you go? Silt, soil and rock, I beg you to calm down.Tell me what you're afraid of, say it, and I'll— The earth did make a sound, but it was a howl, a rumble of pain. Thrall felt the world was torn apart.Not here, not in Thunder Bluff, not even in Kalimdor - it's to the east, in the heart of the ocean, in the middle of the Maelstrom... and that's what the elementals fear.A cataclysm that would tear the land apart like a cracked Draenor.Their fear hit him through a mental connection, causing him to throw his head back and scream until he passed out. There was a gentle stroking of fingers on his face, and Thrall woke up, opened his eyes and saw Agra looking down at him with a worried expression.He smiled weakly, reassuring her. "You're stronger than you look, slave boy." She sneered at him, though there was relief in her voice. "For a moment I thought you decided to join the ranks of the ancestors." He looked around and realized he was in a tent atop Thunder Bluff, perhaps in Soul Heights.Bane was standing beside him. "We found you lying not far from the funeral, so we brought you here, my friend," Bane said.He smiled slightly. "My father loved you dearly, Thrall son of Durotan," he said, "but I don't think he wants you to be with him so soon." Thrall struggled to sit up, "Godau gave us a warning," he said, "We are already too late." There was sympathy in her eyes. "I know. But I also know exactly where the damage was done." "In the Maelstrom," Thrall said, "that's all I knew until I..." His expression twisted. Agra pressed his shoulders and felt the soft material of the robe. "You're not wearing armor," she said softly. "Yes," Thrall said, "I'm naked." He smiled softly at her, "I've already shed my skin." He turned to Bane and said, "If you want—please send People get the armor back. Although I don't wear the warchief's armor anymore, I still hope to send it to Orgrimmar. It is an important testimony of our civilization." "Of course, Thrall. It'll work out." Agra sat back, glanced at him and Baine, "Then what should we do now?" Thrall grabbed Little Bloodhoof's hand. "Bane...you know I came back hoping to help both the Horde and the elementals. And I believe I can still do both. It's just...I can't do it as Warchief." Baine smiled wryly, "I have nothing against Garrosh Hellscream, though I believe he did not participate in the poisoning of my father. I admit, I'd rather see you running the Horde again. But after all that has happened In hindsight, I know you have to go. Reports keep coming - tides and storms in every region bordering the South Sea. Theramore, Stormwind, Westfall, Ratchet, Steamwheedle. Undercity There was a violent earthquake. Ashenvale was set on fire by lightning." Sal closed his eyes. "It's easy if you understand, Bane. I love the Horde, and your father and I built it into what it is today. But now there's a more pressing need, a need I must address. It's urgent. I will Inform Orgrimmar, and then prepare to sail away to investigate this... the wounds of the earth. Even without me, the Horde must go on." Drek'Thar wailed, tears rolling down his blind eyes.Palka didn't doubt him.Although he didn't feel, at least here, no physical damage, he could feel the pain in the whole world.So, as Drek'Thar sobbed and turned to his young caretaker, Palkar waited for the prophet's word.And his words made the young orc feel like ice was forming in his veins. "Someone is breaking in! Hold on! Don't let him in!" Drek'Thar had been right before.He was right about everything.Palka had no doubts that this time he was still right. The only question is - who is the mysterious intruder?