Chapter 4 third chapter

The bloodthirsty battle ax was wielded by his master, making a sharp whistling, and shining brightly under the sunlight.Its driver laughed wildly, opening his black-tattooed jaw to an almost impossible width, the growl that gave him his name.With his movements, the long black hair fluttered behind his head, his red eyes were shining, and he kept slashing at the enemies he imagined in front of him with his battle axe.He honed himself in this way, only in this way can he cut his enemies like meat on the real battlefield.Although it was just a daily drill, his superb skills and great strength were clearly revealed.Grom Hellscream heard his name being called, snorted, and turned away, forcing himself not to indulge his bloodlust.

"Grom!" Grom Hellscream put down the Gorehowl in his hand, even though he was still doing vigorous activities just now, he was only panting lightly now.He looked up and saw someone walking towards him.Although he looks old, he can leave a deep impression on people. "Kargath," he replied, waiting for the leader of the Shattered Hand to come to him.They held each other's hand—the right hand, of course.This is because, long ago, Kargath's left hand was severed and replaced with a wicked scythe blade. "hello." "If you want me to say, hello everyone, it's really good." The old leader said.More and more orcs were approaching this way, so he nodded and continued, "Come back to business. As far as I know, Ner'zhul has sent some envoys to every clan." Grom nodded, With a slight smile, some of those envoys were sent by him at the invitation of Ner'zhul.

(The original text here is like this: "Well met." "Well met to many, it seems," the older chieftain said, noding to where more orcs were gthering. Since the original translation is a bit weird, I chose to be funny.) "He has a plan." Grom put Gorehowl on his shoulders, and the two leaders turned and walked across the valley, passing between the warriors of the two clans, towards the ruins of the Dark Portal.It's full of orcs glaring or arguing with each other, but luckily no one is fighting, at least not until now. "But what is the plan?" Kargath replied, "That doesn't matter. Whatever it is is going to be better than what it is." He absently ran his fingertips lightly across the edge of his blade. "For the past two years we've done nothing. Nothing! Why? Because the Alliance beat us? So what? Because the Dark Portal was destroyed? They could have built another !We have to fight other people, or we'll just sit here, rotting like carrion!"

Grom nodded.Kargath is a pure war machine, born to fight and kill.Grom appreciates that in him, as Kargath said, that's a plus.Orcs are warlike by nature, and they're always trying to hone their perception and their combat prowess, because otherwise they'd grow weak.Grom asked his own clan to fight with other clans in order to train them.Though there hadn't been any friction between Warsong and the Shattered Hand, he knew that what Kargath was doing must be exactly what he was doing.Occasionally, the orcs would still attack some patrols and reconnaissance units, of course, before causing a war.

In any case, he had no interest in fighting his own people.Back then, Ner'zhul established the tribe and united all the clans to form a powerful army, and until now Grom has always believed that the orcs are still in alliance.Whether his warsong warriors were fighting among the Thunder Kings, Bladewind, or the orcs of the Redwalker clan, they were still actually slaughtering their own kind.When he wielded Gorehowl in battle, attacking enemies with its screeching sound, he could still feel the bloodthirsty rush in his blood, the savage pleasure.However, after that, he felt a sense of emptiness and a little uncleanness inside.

As they walked toward the ruins ahead, Grom wondered: What the hell happened?What's wrong with the Horde?There are so many of them that even the weeds on the plain and the water droplets in the ocean are incomparable!Even the mountains tremble at the deafening sound of their footsteps as they march!Why would such a powerful army be defeated in front of the alliance? Grom was convinced that all of this was Gul'dan's fault.On the great roads of Draenor, the plains that were once covered with crops and vegetation became lifeless, the formerly vigorous trees all withered, and the formerly blue sky became blood red; all because of those warlocks They, it is their insatiable desire for power that caused all this.More than that, they destroyed Draenor, but Gul'dan was behind it all.It was also because of his fault that the Horde failed to defeat the Alliance and conquer the world called Azeroth.It's all because the cunning warlock convinced Grom to stay on Draenor during the First War instead of rushing to the front lines.

Gul'dan once told him: "We need you to stay in Draenor. You and your Warsong warriors are the elite of our Horde. If something happens, the Horde needs you as a reserve team. And the Horde needs someone to stay." Stand up for our interests on Draenor. We need someone strong, someone the Horde can trust, like you." Thus, Grom was blown away by Gul'dan's high hats, and fell for his foolish tricks.He just watched Blackhand and Orgrim Doomhammer lead the tribe through the Dark Portal to fight for Azeroth; he just watched those sentinels bring back various news, including First successes and later failures.

Grom took a deep breath, complaining under his breath.He was sure that if he had been there at that time, he would have been able to turn things around!With his help, Warchief Doomhammer must be able to conquer the human city by the lake and kill Gul'dan and his fellow warlocks who betrayed the Horde.When they occupy Lordaeron, they can start from there and gradually conquer the entire continent until there is no human being able to fight them. Grom shook his head.Let it pass by.Blackhand is dead, his old friend Durotan is dead, Doomhammer is captured, the Dark Portal is destroyed, and Gul'dan is no longer alive.The current Horde is but a phantom of past glory.

However, maybe something is about to change. He and Kargath had come to the portal, and they could clearly see the person waiting for them.Although the current Ner'zhul has gray hair, as the chieftain of Shadowmoon and the leader of the tribe in the past, he still looks as strong as ever.Ner'zhul turned to look at Grom. Grom was taken aback when he saw the old shaman's face.Ner'zhul's cheeks, upper lip, nose, brow ridge, and forehead were all painted white, bone white.Grom realized that it must have been painted by Ner'zhul specially, and he painted his own face as a skull.

Ner'zhul said loudly, the voice still sounded so clear and sonorous. "Grom Hellscream, Kargath Bladefist, welcome!" Kargas said lightly, not wanting to say another word. "What is your business with us?" The shaman replied, "I have news, and a plan." Grom snorted, "You have been avoiding us for two years. How could you have any news?" His voice was obviously annoyed and questioned.Pointing to Ner'zhul's bony face, he said, "You let Gul'dan squeeze you out, you refused to drink the blood of rage from the Holy Grail, and then you hid like a groundhog in a burrow for two years !Now you are no longer living in seclusion, but you have come to tell us that you have a new plan with the face of death. Whatever your so-called plan is, I don’t want to hear it.”

Grom could hear his own grief in his own voice.Regardless of everything Gul'dan has caused, and his distrust of the advisors, shamans and warlocks around him these years, he still hopes that Ner'zhul will still be the shaman that Grom has remembered since he was a child, The strong, stern, and wise orc, the orc who united the scattered clans into one mighty force.Although what he said was very mean, he still hoped that everything he said was not true. Ner'zhul touched the skeleton on his face and sighed deeply. "I've always been able to dream about death. I've met him in my dreams and talked to him. I've seen the deaths of my own people, I've seen the deaths of those I loved dearly. All of this …I made myself this way to remember it all. I wanted to keep hiding, but I see now. I owe it to my people, so I owe it to them to unite again." "Just like when you led us in the past?" Kargath roared. "Lead us to betrayal? Or failure? Don't you want to die? Well, Ner'zhul, I tell you, if you really want to lead us, I will kill you!" He turned towards The old orc swung the blade inlaid on his left arm. Ner'zhul was about to answer him, but stopped when he saw something behind the two of them.Grom turned around and saw a huge figure walking towards them. His figure should be an ogre. "Tower, any news?" Ner'zhul called, waiting for the orcs to come. "I told you to find the other clans and gather them—just like I told you both to do it," he reminded Grom and Kargath. "But so far I've only seen Shadowmoon, Warsong, and the Shattered Hand clan gathered here. What about the others?" "The Thunderblade clan said they would come here," Grom assured him. "They've got a long way to go, so maybe another day or two for them." He shook his head. "But neither the Thunder King nor the Laughing Skull clan obeyed. The two clans are fighting hard." (The English name of the Thunder Blade Clan is Lightning's Blade. I originally wanted to translate it into Lei Feng, but it felt a bit wrong...) "That's why we need to do something!" Ner'zhul roared. "If we don't do something, we'll just kill each other here!" He bared his teeth, his face already distorted. "All that we've done to unite the tribes - what I've done - is going to be for naught. Look at these clans splitting off from the tribe and fighting each other out there. If we don't act soon, we It will return to the tradition, and the clans can only meet each other in wars or annual gatherings. You know!" "So what else can you expect to happen during the two years you've been in hiding?" Grom cursed. "We know that you were injured by the explosion. But after you recovered, you never appeared again! We have been waiting for your guidance, but we have not waited. In this case, we You must go back to the way you used to be, fighting with other clans! In order to see those meaningless deaths in your dreams, you abandoned all of us, this is retribution!" "I understand," Ner'zhul said softly in pain.Grom looked at the grief and shame on his face, and he swallowed all the angry words that came to his lips. "The Bladewind clan will join us," Kargath said, trying to break the silence. "But the Red Walkers refused. They said that tribes are a thing of the past, and now all clans just need to mind their own business." He cursed. "If it weren't for your will, I would really like to cut their chief into pieces." "If you do that, you won't escape," Ner'zhul pointed out. "Or you'd have to kill their entire clan of orcs to escape. I don't want to put you in danger, or lose them, because they could still be persuaded and brought under our banner after all." He doubled his eyes. Lips are slightly pursed. "Don't worry, we will clean them up sooner or later." He looked around, narrowed his eyes, and asked, "What about the others? What about the Bonechewer clan?" This question caused Grom to start cursing, "We sent envoys to find Harkan Skullsplitter," he said briefly, "then he dismembered the envoys and sent them back in separate categories!" "The orcs of the Bonechewer clan are very brave and good at fighting." Kargath said cautiously while touching his blade. "In war, they'll be a big problem." Then he shook his head. "But since the portal crashed, they've grown wilder. They can't be trusted, and they can't be contained." Ner'zhul nodded and asked Dengta, "What about the White Claw clan?" Frowning, the ogre replied, "The vast majority died. Most were killed by other clans before the truth about Gul'dan and his warlocks was revealed. Even during Durotan's exile And after death, the Whiteclaw orcs still have compassion for the Frostwolf clan. This makes them a target." Then he shook his head, "As for those who survived, they were also expelled. In fact, now There is no longer a clan called White Claw." Ner'zhul shuddered with guilt at the mention of Durotan.He once warned the leader of the Frostwolf clan, hoping to recover the damage he caused, but in the end his actions still had no effect.Members of Gul'dan's Shadow Council found and slew Durotan, one of the noblest orcs Ner'zhul had ever known. But regret and self-pity won't do anything.He turned his attention back to Dengta's words, and got angry. "The White Claw is one of the oldest and proudest clans among us orcs! Now the White Claw orcs have to be homeless savages? Are we going to let the orcs fall like this? No! We must Restore the tribe and let the orcs unite again! Only in this way can we look forward to survival and glory!" Dengta knelt down and said simply, "You know that I was born to serve you, Master." Grom looked at the old orc in front of him, and frowned slightly, "Ner'zhul, tell us your plan." He said loudly, ensuring that everyone present could hear what he said clearly. "Tell us. If it makes sense, then we'll choose to follow in your footsteps." Kargas turned his head slightly and said. "me too." Ner'zhul looked at the three people in front of him seriously, then nodded and said, "We will wait until the Thunderblade and Bladewind clans arrive here. Then we will find the others, the Thunder King, the Laughing Skull, the Red Walkers, and the Bonechewer clan. The orcs must unite." Kargas asked, "What if they refuse?" Ner'zhul replied in his unmistakable tone, "Convince them." Kargath roared in agreement, raising his blade, which gleamed in the sun.Ner'zhul turned to Warsong Chieftain and said softly, "Grom, while we wait for the two clans, I will tell you my plan and send you on a mission." Grom's blood-red eyes sparkled, "Please tell me, and why I did this." Ner'zhul smiled.But under the mask of death, his smile looked so weird. "I need you to find something."