Chapter 11 chapter Ten

For the first instant, Thrall was defenseless.Immediately, years of training kicked in.Even though he didn't want to fight his men, he quickly saw them as combatants and reacted.When one of them charged, Thrall dodged quickly, then reached out, snatched the massive battleaxe from the orc's hand, and swung it smoothly and uninterruptedly.The blow went deep, but the armor took most of the force.The orc howled and staggered to the ground, clutching his back.He would survive, but immediately, the situation became two-on-one. Thrall whirled and roared.That bloodlust, sweet and familiar, filled him again.With a defiant growl, the second opponent charged forward, brandishing a huge broadsword to make up for the length of the arm.Thrall twisted to the side, avoiding the fatal blow, but still felt the searing pain of the blade biting into his side.

The orc continued to press, and at the same time, a third orc attacked from behind.Despite the dire circumstances, Thrall now had a weapon.Ignoring the blood gushing from his body staining the stone floor, he first swung his giant ax and slashed at one opponent, and then used his strength to move towards the second opponent. They all blocked the attack with their thick shields.Thrall had no armor or shield, but fighting like this was all too familiar to him.They are clever opponents, but so are human fighters.They were physically strong and powerful, but no troll Thrall had ever faced and defeated.He moved calmly, dodged, roared, and attacked.They were once a threat to Thrall.But now, even two-on-one, Thrall knew he would win if he focused on strategy instead of answering that sweet, bloodthirsty call.

His arm moved freely, as if according to his own will, blow after blow.Even when he stumbles and slips, he uses it to his advantage.He bent over to attack an opponent, and suddenly stretched his arms as far as possible, allowing the great ax to sweep from below to the legs of another orc.He was careful to hit his opponent with the blunt end, not the sharp edge.He didn't want to kill these orcs, he just wanted to win the battle. Both orcs are tough to deal with.The orc whose leg Thrall had hacked with the ax wailed in frustration.It looked like both legs were broken.Another stood up with legs crossed, trying to stab Thrall with his broadsword.

Thrall made a decision.Regardless of the pain on his body, he stretched out his hands upwards, grasped the blade tightly, and pulled it forward with all his strength.The orc lost his balance and fell on Thrall.Thrall writhed, suddenly finding himself riding another orc with his hand at his throat. Push, his instinct called.Jam hard.Kill Blackmoore and pay him back for what he did to you. No!he thinks.This is not Blackmoore.It was the one his people he sought through all peril.He stood up, reached out to the defeated orc, and helped him up. The orc stared at Thrall's hand. "We kill," Iskar said, his voice as calm as before. "Kill your opponent, Thrall. That's what a real orc would do."

Shaking his head slowly, Thrall reached down and grabbed his opponent's arm, pulling the defeated foe to his feet. "In battle, yes. I will kill my enemy so that he never rises up against me again. But you are my people, whether you accept me as one or not. We are too numerous Less, I can't kill him." Iska looked at Thrall strangely, as if he was waiting for something, and then continued. "Your reason is incomprehensible. You have honorably defeated three of our best fighters. You have passed the first hurdle." first round?Thrall thought, putting a hand over the bleeding wound.He's starting to doubt that no matter how many tests he passes, they won't let him see Hellscream.

Maybe Hellscream isn't here at all. Maybe Hellscream is dead after all. But Thrall, deep down in his heart, would rather die here than return to life at Blackmoore's feet, even if it was true. "What's the next challenge?" he asked quietly.He could tell from the orcs' reactions that he had made a deep impression on them with his calm demeanor. "A matter of will," Iscar said.A slight smile flickered across his wrinkled face.He waved, and an orc walked in carrying what at first glance looked like a large package.But when he casually dropped the "package" on the ground, Thrall realized it was a human boy.The child's hair is matted.He was about fifteen years old, and Thrall saw purple and teal bruises where the mud hadn't covered up.His eyes were the same color as Thrall's, a deep blue, and they were wide with terror.

"You know what this is," Iska said. "A child, a human child," Thrall replied, confused.Apparently they weren't going to let him fight this kid. "A boy. Men grow up to be orc-killers. They are our natural enemies. If you're really mad at those whips and clubs, wish to show you to those who enslaved you and even gave you a name to indicate your humble place in life If people want revenge, do it now. Kill this child before he grows up enough to kill you." The boy's eyes widened suddenly, because Iska just used human language.He wriggled desperately, whining from his gagged mouth.The orc who carried him just now kicked him in the stomach impartially.The child huddled tightly into a ball, whimpering.

Thrall watched it all.Apparently they weren't serious.He looked at Iska, who was watching him intently. "It's not a fighter," Thrall said. "It's not an honorable fight. I thought the orcs valued their honor." "So we do," Iskar agreed, "but before you lies a future scourge. Protect your people." "He's a child!" Thrall yelled. "He's not a threat now, who's to say he'll be? I know what he's wearing, what village he was taken from. The people here are farmers and shepherds. They depend on farming for a living, to get fruit and Meat. Their weapons are for rabbits and deer, not orcs."

"But it's quite possible that if we start another war, this boy will go to the front and charge with one of us with a spear, for our blood," Iskar retorted. "Would you like to see Hellscream? If you don't kill this kid, you better plan on not getting out of this cave alive" The boy was crying silently.Thrall suddenly remembered his separation from Terasa, and her description of crying.His mind was full of the image of Terasa.He thought of her, and of the sergeant.He remembered how sad he had been when his appearance had terrified the little girl. Then he thought of Blackmoore's handsome, contemptuous face; all the people who had beaten him and called him "monster" and greenskins and worse.

But all those memories could not forgive a cold-blooded murder.Thrall made up his mind, and dropped the blood-stained ax to the ground. "If this boy ever takes up arms against me," he said, choosing his words slowly and carefully, "then I will kill him in the field. And I will do so with unwavering joy, knowing that It was done for the power of my people. But I will not kill a child, even a human being, strapped helplessly in front of me. If that's why I can't see Hellscream, so be it. I Would rather die than commit such a shameful atrocity." He stood firmly, with his arms outstretched, waiting for the impending attack.Iska sighed.

"It's a pity," he said, "but you have chosen your own destiny." He held up his hand. At this moment, a terrifying scream pierced the frozen and cold air.The cry echoed in the cave, piercing Thrall's ears and going straight to the marrow of his bones.He turned to look at where the call came from.The hide covering a cave was ripped off, and a tall, red-eyed orc entered.Thrall was used to seeing the looks of his people, but this orc was unlike any he had seen before. Long black hair hung in a mess around his back.The two large ears twitched from time to time, reminding Thrall of the strange look of the sergeant, with a dozen earrings shining in the firelight.His leather jacket was red and black and stood out against his green skin, and chains hung from many places around his body, swinging as he moved.His entire chin was black, and at this moment, it was wider than Thrall had ever seen it before.It was he who made that terrible roar, Thrall thought Grom?Hellscream's name certainly lives up to its name. When the screeching died down, Grom spoke. "I've never seen anything like this!" He strode up to Thrall, staring at him.His eyes were the color of fire, and something dark and terrifying danced in their pupils.Thrall guessed it was a disparaging remark, but he wasn't prepared to be bullied.He straightened his burly body with all his strength, and decided that he would never bow his head even if he died.He opened his mouth to answer Grom's words, but the orc chieftain continued. "What do you know about mercy, Thrall of Durnholde? How do you know when to show it, and for what reason?" The other orcs murmured doubtfully to themselves.Iska bowed and saluted. "Excellent Hellscream," he said, "we thought it would please you to capture this child, and we hoped—" "I hope his parents follow the trail to our lair, you fools!" cried Grom. "We are warriors, brave and proud. At least we were." He was shaking as if with a fever, and it seemed to Thrall that he had been pale and tired for a while.But that impression comes and goes quickly. "We're not butchers of children. I suppose whoever got hold of this brat would think of blindfolding him?" "Yes, my lord," said Lexack, looking unhappy. "Then take him back to where you found him." Hellscream walked up to the child and took the cloth from his mouth.The boy was too scared to make a sound. "Listen to me, little human. Tell your people that the orcs once captured you and chose not to harm you. Tell them," he looked at Thrall, "that they have shown you mercy. And tell them that if they They'll fail to find us. We'll be gone soon. Do you understand?" The boy nodded. "Fine," he said to Lexark. "Bring him back. Now. Next time you find a human cub, let him go." Lexac nodded.He roughly grabbed the boy's hand and dragged him from the ground. "Lexac," said Grom, his voice harsh and stern. "If you hurt that kid against my orders, I'll know. And I won't forgive you." Lexac grimaced feebly. "As my lord wishes," he said, and dragged the boy, still roughly, up the winding stone corridor that led beyond the cave. Iska seemed puzzled. "My lord," he said, "this is Blackmoore's pet! He reeks of man, and he boasts of his fear of killing—" "I've never been afraid to kill the damned," Thrall growled. "I don't kill those who don't deserve to die." Hellscream put one hand on Iska's shoulder, then placed the other on Thrall's. "Iskar, my old friend," he said, his rough voice softening, "you've seen bloodlust over me. You've seen me wading knee-deep in blood. I've killed men before But we fought like this with all our might, and where has it brought us now? Humble, defeated. Our fellow men lounging in the camps, unable to save themselves, let alone fight for others. That This way of fighting, starting wars, made us what we are today. I have been thinking for a long time that our ancestors will show us a new way, a way that wins back everything we have lost. Repeat the same , actions that would lead to very different results are stupid, and I am not a fool no matter what I am. Thrall is strong enough to defeat our best fighters. He tasted the ways of humans, and left them to seek freedom .He pulled out from the camp and overcame many difficulties to finally find me. I agree with his choice today. One day, my old friend, you will find the wisdom in it too." He squeezed Iraq affectionately Scar's shoulder. "Back off, you all, now." The orcs slowly, reluctantly, looked at Thrall with some hostility, and scattered to every corner of the cave.Thrall is waiting. "It's just the two of us now," said Hellscream. "Are you hungry, Thrall of Durnholde?" "I'm starving," Thrall said, "but I beg you not to call me Thrall of Dunholde. I escaped from Dunholde, and I hate to think of it." Hellscream went to another cave to get a hide and a large piece of raw meat.Thrall took the meat, nodded his thanks, and eagerly took a big bite.He got a meal for the first time as a free orc.Venison has never tasted so good. "Should we change your name, then? That's slave," Hellscream said, crouching and looking closely at Thrall with his red eyes. "That's a badge of shame." Thrall thought while gobbling. "No. Blackmoore gave me that name so I'll never forget that I'm something of his, that I belong to him." He narrowed his eyes. "I never will. I will keep the name and one day, when I see him again, he will remember what he did to me and regret it deeply in his heart." Hellscream stared at him closely. "You're going to kill him, aren't you?" Thrall didn't answer right away.He thought of the time when he nearly killed the sergeant and it was Blackmoore he saw, of the countless times he'd seen Blackmoore's handsome, mocking figure while fighting for his life in the ring.He thought of Blackmoore's insulting words and the rage of his punches and kicks.He thought of the sad look on Teresa's beautiful face when she spoke of Master Dunholde. "Yes," he said, his voice low and firm. "I will. If there's a creature to die for, it's Edrath Blackmoore without a doubt." Hellscream giggled, making a strange, brutish sound. "Fine. At least you're determined to kill someone. I'm starting to wonder if I'm making the right decision." He pointed to a tattered piece of cloth that Thrall wore in his belt. "That doesn't look like human craftsmanship." Sal struggled to untie the swaddling material. "It's not. Blackmoore found it on me when I was a baby." He handed the cloth to Hellscream. "That's all I know." "I recognize the pattern," said Hellscream, opening the cloth to observe the emblem of the white wolf's head on a blue background. "This is the symbol of the Frostwolf clan. Where did Blackmoore find you?" "He always told me it was not far from Dunholde," Sal said. "Then your family is far away from home. I don't know why." Thrall took hold of a glimmer of hope. "Do you know them? Can you tell me where my parents are? There's a lot I don't know." "All I can say is it's a sign of the Frostwolf clan, who live far from here, somewhere in the mountains. They were exiled by Gul'dan. I never knew why. Durotan and his people Seems loyal to me. There are rumors that they have a bond with those white wolves, but no one can believe anything just by their ears." Thrall felt a pang of disappointment.However, this is much more than he knew before.He picked up the little square of braid, marveling how small he had been to be wrapped in it. "One more question, if you can answer it," he said to Hellscream. "When I was little, I was training outside the castle, and a carriage passed by with a few..." He paused.How should I say it?resident?slave? "Several orcs going to the Reservation. One of them broke free and attacked me. He kept yelling something. I never knew what he said, but I swear I remembered that. Maybe Can you tell me what that means." "Go ahead and I'll tell you." "Kagh! Bin mog g'thazag cha!" Thrall said. "That was not an attack, my young friend," Hellscream said. "That line was 'Run, I'll protect you!'" Sal froze.All along, he thought he was the target of the charge, when... "Other fighters," he said. "We were doing practice. I was in a circle with my bare hands... He died, Hellscream. They hacked him to pieces. He thought they were going to kill me because I was one against twelve. Protect me and die." Hellscream said nothing, just continued to look at Thrall, eating.Hungry as he was, Thrall let the juices from that kidney drain to the floor.Someone gave his life protecting a young orc he never knew.Slowly, with great pleasure, he chewed the piece of fresh meat.Sooner or later, he was going to find the Frostwolf clan and know exactly who he was.