Chapter 17 Chapter Sixteen

Thrall successfully infiltrated and freed the orcs in three concentration camps.Naturally, since the first success, the security measures in the concentration camp have been upgraded.But humans clearly underestimated their opponents, and those who "captured" Thrall never imagined that their prey would cause such trouble. But when instigating a third riot, Thrall was recognized.After discussing it with Hellscream and Doomhammer, the two agreed that it was too risky for Thrall to continue pretending to be a prisoner. "Your spirit, my friend, inspires us all. You should no longer put yourself in such danger," Hellscream said.His eyes burned as Thrall had heard.

"I can't accept the fact that I sit safely in the back, but let others go to the front to face the danger!" Thrall replied. "We're not suggesting you run away," Doomhammer said, "it's just that the tactics we're using are less safe now." "Humans never pay attention to what they say," Thrall said, before recalling all the rumors and stories he'd heard while training as a gladiator.His trainers always believed that it was impossible for him to understand human language, so he never paid attention to his tongue when he was around.Even now, Thrall was outraged by the insult, but grateful for the news. "The orcs in those prisons will surely hear that the other prisons are released. Even if they don't hear clearly, they will surely know that something is being prepared in secret. Even if I can't teach them the way of shamanism in person there , we can still count on them to get our news from other sources. We can count on them to find their own way to freedom if everything is in place."

Just as Sal thought.Armed guards failed to suppress the riots in the fourth camp, and the elementals always came when Thrall asked for their help.This convinced Thrall that his goal was correct, but on the other hand, the power the elements were willing to exert was drastically reduced.This made it increasingly difficult to destroy the outer walls and fight the guards, and many of Doomhammer's elite soldiers were killed as a result.But the orcs within these walls of cold stone responded eagerly, scrambling through the newly opened gap almost before Doomhammer and his warriors made way for them.

New tribes were formed almost overnight.Prey was plentiful at this time of year, and Doomhammer did not leave his followers hungry.When Thrall heard that a small band of orcs had raided a small remote village and killed many unarmed people, he was deeply enraged. He tracked down the leader of the expedition, and that night he made his way into that party's camp, caught the startled orc, and knocked him down hard. "We are not here to slaughter humans!" Thrall yelled at the orcs on the ground, "We are fighting for the freedom of our imprisoned brothers! Our opponents are those heavily armed warriors, not milking women and children !"

The orc opened his mouth to distinguish, but Thrall slapped him hard with his backhand.The orc's head jerked to one side, blood gushing from his mouth. "The forest is full of deer and hares! There is food for everyone! I did not order you to terrorize the unarmed villagers. Only go where I ask and fight whom I ask to fight, if anyone else goes to harm the innocent villager, I will never forgive him. Have I made it clear enough?" The orc nodded.The other orcs around the campfire stared at Thrall wide-eyed, and finally they all nodded. Thrall softened a little. "This is what old tribes ruled by evil warlocks have no compassion or love for their people. It's these bloodthirsty acts that lead us to concentration camps when we lose the things that make us incomparable We are so jaded after the power of the greedy demon. I don't want us to be controlled by ourselves. What we have done has almost destroyed us. There is no doubt that we will be free. But we must do it freely To be who we really are, not as a race that exists only to slaughter humans. The past is over. We fight now as honorable warriors, not bloodthirsty killers. There is no honor in murdering children."

He turned and left.A dizzying silence followed him.A muffled laugh came from the darkness, and he turned to see Doomhammer. "You have just embarked on a dangerous path," said the warchief. "The desire to kill runs deep in their blood." "I don't believe it," Thrall said. "I believe that we were corrupted from noble warriors to vile killers. We were sacrificed to the demons by those who betrayed us and treated us like mere puppets. " "This is... a nasty dance," came Hellscream's voice, so soft and weak that Thrall barely recognized it, "it used to be. The power they gave... Like the sweetest honey, or the juiciest tender meat. You're lucky you never drank from that well, Sal. So didn't experience losing them, it was almost... unbearable." trembling.

Thrall put a hand on Hellscream's shoulder. "And you have endured everything so far, brave brother," he said, "my courage is nothing compared to yours." Hellscream's red eyes glowed in the dark, and in that hellish crimson light Thrall saw him smile. Doomhammer, Hellscream, and the new Horde led by Thrall quickly surrounded the fifth camp in the dark hours before dawn. The spies are back. "The guards have sounded the alarm," they told Doomhammer. "There are twice as many guards on the fence as usual. They have lit a lot of fires to keep the light going."

"And it's a full moon," said Doomhammer, looking up at the silver and turquoise orbs in the sky. "The White Lady and the Blue Child are clearly not our friends tonight." "We can't wait another two weeks," Hellscream said. "The Horde is hungry for a fight, and we need to strike while they are strong enough to resist the ennui brought on by the demons." Doomhammer nodded, though he was still concerned.He asked the scouts, "Is there any sign that they are expecting an attack?" For the past few days, Thrall had felt that their luck was running out.They were very careful not to choose those concentration camps that had received special orders. Humans had no way of knowing where they would attack next time, so they couldn't make a plan to wait and see.But Thrall knew Blackmoore, and somehow he thought it was inevitable that he and Blackmoore would somehow end up face-to-face.

As he realized what it would mean for his army that he and Blackmoore face-to-face, he wished with all his heart that tonight wasn't the inevitable one. The spy shook his head. "Then we'll surprise them," Doomhammer said.The green tide broke the tranquility and rolled down from the top of the mountain towards the concentration camp. When they were about to rush to the front of the camp, the gate of the camp opened, and a large number of humans wearing thick armor and riding mounts came out in line.Thrall saw the black falcon on the red and gold banner, and he knew that the day he had foreseen and dreaded had finally arrived.

Hellscream's battle roar pierced the air around him, almost drowning out the roars of humans and the pounding of horses' hooves.It's not just the strength of their opponents that humans fear more - the Horde seems new and eager to take on any challenge. Thrall let out his battle roar almost reflexively.His position is too cramped to summon the mighty power of Lightning or Earthquake, but luckily he can find help.The thought of rushing forward and fighting hard almost overwhelmed him, but he controlled himself.There is still enough time for him to shake the balance of military power in front of the orcs again.

He closed his eyes, nailed his feet firmly into the grass, and searched for the wild spirit.His mind "saw" a huge white horse, the spirit of all horses, coming at his call. Humanity is using your people to kill us and your children are in danger.If the horse deserted its rider, they were free and safe.Will you let them do this? The huge horse thought.These children are trained to fight.They fear neither sword nor spear. But today they don't have to die.We just want to liberate our people.They don't deserve to die for it. Again, the huge horse pondered Thrall's words, and finally, he nodded his huge head. Suddenly, the entire battlefield fell into chaos.Every horse jumped up and down in rage, or broke free from the rein and galloped away; the human defenders watched them in shock and fury, and some of the guards tried to calm the mounts, but it was obviously to no avail. Now is the time to plead for the soul of the earth.Thrall imagined that the roots of the earth surrounded the camp and continued to grow until they broke through the ground.The spirit of the earth protects us... Will you help me? Yes, an answer came from his mind.Sal opened his eyes and watched nervously.Even with his superhuman night vision, he's having a hard time seeing what's going on, but he's sure he can sort things out. Roots burst from the tamped soil outside the wall.They shot out of the earth and trapped those who had just fallen from their horses, making their situation the same as that of the orcs in the high walls.Following Thrall's orders, the orcs spared the helpless guards.They rushed straight into the shelter, looking for their imprisoned clansmen. Another wave of infantry rushed out.Those roots didn't exert their power again; they had done their job.Despite the disappointment, Thrall thanked them, and then he began to think quickly about what to do next. Thrall was sure he had done all that a shaman could do.It's time for him to act like a fighter.He picked up one of his great broadswords that Hellscream had given him, and rushed down the hill to join his fellow siblings. Karam.Langston had never been so terrified in his life. He was still very young when the last war between orcs and humans happened, so he didn't personally participate in such a war. He believed in the words of his idol, Lord Blackmoore.Blackmoore described such battles as mundane and innocuous as hunting game in the forests around Dunholde, and the mix of screams and groans, blood, urine and feces, and orc body odor now pounding his eardrums There was no mention of the stench, and every moment he could see hundreds of places being shelled.No, he, who is only fit for baths and wine, and the admiration of thousands of ladies, should not be in this kind of war, which is not a heart-pounding leisure activity at all. They are ready to surprise the orcs, they are ready to face those green-skinned monsters.Then what happened?Why did those horses, those damn tame beasts leave their masters and run away without exception?And what evil sorcery made those roots spring from the ground to bind the hapless wretches who had just lost their mounts?Where did those terrifying white wolves come from, and how did they know whom to attack? Langdon had no clue.On the surface, he commanded and controlled everyone here, but these huge vines emerging from the ground completely tore up this illusion.Now all that remained was utter panic, the sound of swords slashing against shields or flesh, and the cries of dying. Even he himself couldn't figure out who to attack.It was too dark around him, he couldn't see anything clearly, he could only wave his sword blindly, roaring and crying while attacking frantically.A few times Langston felt his sword plunge into someone's flesh, but most of the time he simply split the air.He was driven entirely by fear, and secretly marveled that he could keep swinging the weapon. Suddenly, a violent assault landed on his full body armor that was almost up to his teeth.For some reason, he stubbornly kept his head up at the huge, powerful creature that was attacking him.After a brief moment, Langston's eyes caught sight of his attacker, and his mouth opened tremblingly. "Sarl!" he called. The orc also recognized him, and the orc's eyes widened suddenly, and his eyes were full of anger.Langston only saw a huge fist, and then he knew nothing. Thrall didn't care about the lives of Langdon's men, they stood between him and those imprisoned people he was going to liberate; if they died, they died in a fair battle, which was irreversible destiny.But Langton, he wished to keep him alive. He still remembered this little follower of Blackmoore.Langton always had a flattering look on his face, never talked too much behind his master, and then put on a superior expression of disgust and contempt in front of Sal.But Thrall also knew that no one was nearer to his enemy than this poor, will-less creature, and despite Langdon's guilt, Thrall was determined to let him survive the battle. Thrall threw the unconscious captain onto his shoulder and turned to fight his way through the swarming crowd of fighting men.After quickly running back to the hiding place in the woods, he threw Langdon, who was as limp as a big bag of potatoes, under the old oak tree at his feet, and then tied his hands firmly with his own shoulder straps.Keep him safe until I return, he said to Old Oak.In response, thick tree roots emerged and closed, binding Langdon tightly. Thrall turned and galloped to join the fight again.Usually, liberating your own people takes only a short time to complete, but this time something is different.The battle continued as Thrall returned to the ranks of his comrades, and it seemed that it would go on forever.The imprisoned orcs have done everything in their power to be free.For a while, Thrall killed the human guards and began searching the camp.He found that there were still a few orcs huddled in the corner.At first they just cringed when they met Thrall, and Thrall's blood was so excited by the fight that he could hardly keep himself from yelling at them.Still he managed to patiently get them all to follow him, saving them from hopeless moods into a band of brave warriors. Finally, when he confirmed that all the imprisoned orcs were free, he turned and rushed to the place where the fighting was fiercest.There, Hellscream fought with all his might, savage as a demon.What about Doomhammer?The extraordinary chieftain should have shouted to retreat at this time, so that the orcs could regroup, recuperate and heal, and then plan for the next move. This is a bloody battle.Many of his brothers and sisters fell in their armor, dead or dying.Thrall decided to exercise his power as second-in-command, and he shouted: "Retreat! Retreat!" But Thrall's words were not heard by many, seized by bloodlust.Thrall ran among the soldiers, fending off attack after attack, yelling at them words that the orcs would never want to hear, but vital, even vital to their survival: "Back! Back!" His roar finally pierced the fog of the battlefield, and with the last few blows, the orcs retreated consciously from the boundaries of the camp.A host of human knights - knights without a doubt - set out in pursuit of the orcs.Thrall waited outside the formation, yelling, "Go, go!" The orcs were far taller and stronger than humans and moved quickly. When the last orc ran over the mountain and rushed to freedom, Thrall turned around sharply and put With both feet deeply inserted into the foul-smelling mud made of blood and hard soil, he began to summon the soul of the earth. The earth answered his call.The ground beneath the camp began to tremble, and the center of the camp shrank slightly from the impact.The earth cracked and lifted before Thrall, and the solid stone walls around the camp crumbled.The scream hit Thrall's eardrums, not full of fighting spirit or insult, but outright fear.Almost overwhelmed by a surge of pity, he hardened his heart: these knights obeyed Blackmoore's orders, and they would never show mercy to the orcs, and they would lock up any orcs they failed to kill, and they Capturing Thrall was only to make him a slave.They choose to obey such an order, so they need to pay with their lives for it. The earth twisted.The screams were drowned out by the loud crash of collapsing buildings and falling rocks.Then, as suddenly as they came, the screams died away. Thrall stood there, looking at the rubble—the concentration camp where his people had been buried.A faint groan came from the ruins, but Thrall hardened his heart and ignored it.His people were wounded and groaning in pain.He needs to take care of them. Closing his eyes, he expressed his gratitude to the spirit of the earth, and then he turned and sprinted away towards his people. Usually the scene is chaotic at this time, but this time it seems to be more so.As he ran up the steep hill, he saw Hellscream anxiously looking for him. "Doomhammer," said Hellscream harshly, "you better hurry." Sal's heart skipped a beat.It couldn't be Doomhammer, he couldn't be in danger... He followed Hellscream, pushing away the boring orcs on the road, and rushed all the way to Orgrim.Doomhammer - he was standing next to a tree root. Thrall gasped in horror.A spear at least two feet long protruded from Doomhammer's broad back.Thrall's eyes froze when he saw all this. Two of Doomhammer's bodyguards were trying to remove the round breastplate.Now Thrall could see that the spear pierced through the soft leather lining the plate armor, and the area around the wound was already red.The force that pierced Doomhammer's body also dented the other side of the breastplate. Kneeling beside Doomhammer, Drek'Thar raised his blind eyes to Thrall.He shook his head slightly, stood up and retreated to the back. Blood rushed against Thrall's eardrums, and he heard a powerful warrior calling his name dimly.Shocked and hesitant, Thrall knelt beside Doomhammer. "A nasty surprise attack," Doomhammer said hoarsely, blood gushing from his mouth. "I was struck from behind by a coward." "My lord," Thrall said mournfully, and Doomhammer cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I need your help, Thrall. Two things. You must continue what we started. I have led the Horde once. But it seems that fate will not let me lead again." He trembled, his face contorted An anguished look, and then he continued, "You are Warchief now, Thrall, son of Durotan. You shall wear my armor and bear my hammer." Doomhammer reached out to Thrall, and Thrall held tightly the bleeding hand, which was still wearing armor. "You know what to do. You're taking care of them now. I can't find...a better heir. Your father would be proud of you...help me..." Thrall's hands trembled as he helped the two young orcs remove the armor from Doomhammer piece by piece.But the spears protruding from Orgrim's back did not allow them to touch the rest of the armor. "Second thing," growled Doomhammer.The small space around the fallen hero was filled with people, and every hour there was a constant rush of people. "It's a shame to die at the hands of a coward," he said. Die while the body still has these treacherous things of men." He fumbled with one hand on the spear, his fingers trembled weakly, and then fell, "I tried to pull it out, But I've run out of strength... Quick, Thrall. Unplug it for me." Thrall felt his chest being crushed by an invisible hand, and he nodded.He forced himself to face the great pain of having to meet his friend and teacher's demands, and he closed his fingers and pressed into Doomhammer's muscles. Doomhammer cried out, his rage as strong as his pain. "Pull it out!" he yelled. Close your eyes, Salbard.The blood-soaked pole grew several inches.The sound of Doomhammer nearly broke Thrall's heart. "Again!" roared the mighty warrior.Thrall took a deep breath and pulled, wishing he could pull it all out.When pulling back, the sudden loss of strength made him fall back firmly to the ground. Black-red blood poured from the fatal wound in Doomhammer's stomach.Hellscream murmured next to Thrall, "I saw that. Before you let those horses leave their masters. He faced them eight guys on horses alone. That's the worst I've ever seen." Act of bravery." Thrall nodded silently, then knelt beside Doomhammer. "Great Lord," Thrall whispered so only Doomhammer could hear him, "I am afraid I am not yet qualified to put on your armor and take up your arms." "No one is born great," Doomhammer's voice was weak and muffled. "You will lead them...victory...you will bring them...peace..." His eyes closed, and Doomhammer fell forward on Thrall, Thrall grabbed him quickly, he supported him, and after a while, Thrall felt a hand on his shoulder.It was Drek'Thar, his hand slipping under Thrall's arm and helping Thrall up. "They're watching," Drek'Thar said softly to Thrall. "They cannot live without a leader. You must put on your armor and tell them you are the new chieftain." "Sir," said an orc who overheard Drek'Thar, "the armor..." he swallowed, "the armor is punctured—we need to replace it." "No," Thrall said, "it won't be replaced. You'll have to restore its shape before the next fight, and I'll wear it. For Orgrim. Doomhammer's glory, he for We gave our lives for our freedom." He stood there and let them help him put on his armor.He concealed the great pain in his heart, and showed a brave face to everyone.The orcs around him watched him quietly and respectfully.Drek'Thar was right, he needed to.He bent down, picked up the great hammer, and swung it above his head. "Orgrim. Doomhammer appointed me as the new Warchief," he cried. "It is not what I want, but I have no choice. I have been appointed, and I will obey. Who of you will follow I go to seek freedom for our people?" A howl of mourning remembered, full of pain for their lost leader.Yet it is also a voice of hope.Thrall stood there, raising Doomhammer's legendary weapon upward, knowing that, no matter how slim the chances of success, victory would be theirs.