Orgrim had a long dream.
During the Battle of Hillsbrad, in order to cover the retreat of the orcs, he was surrounded by dozens of elite soldiers of the First Legion. Although he fought desperately, he was still exhausted and fell on the battlefield.
The moment before he closed his eyes, he threw his Doomhammer forcefully at Thrall, and the lances of countless human knights and the long swords of soldiers penetrated his body.
The legendary life of Orgrim Doomhammer, the notorious former warchief of the Horde, has come to an end. The orc showed no fear or fear before his death, but instead felt a sense of relief.
At least he died with honor.
In a daze, Orgrim's thoughts drifted back to Draenor, the hometown of the orcs; he saw his friends Durotan and Draka, and their child Go'el, thriving in the ice and snow of Frostfire Ridge. growing up.
The orcs adhere to their simple traditions and no longer bring death and fear to other worlds and the orc tribe itself. They have not abandoned the traditional shamanic way and coexist in harmony with nature and the elements.
"Gu'ir... I hope you don't blame me."
Orgrim had a chance to escape, as he once had. But he knew that he was old and no longer the invincible orc chief. The orcs needed a new leader.
'The last wielder of the Doomhammer fell into the abyss of destruction after leading the orcs to prosperity. Then, the Doomhammer will be passed into the hands of an orc who is not the Blackrock clan, and this orc will lead the tribe to a new direction. brilliant. '
This was the prophecy that this famous war hammer received after it was forged. Orgrim had completed the first half, and he had no chance to see the second half.
In the end, Orgrim's vision faded into darkness, and his tired hands could finally let go, but he still retained a trace of guilt and self-blame, both for the orcs and Draenor, and for Azeroth.
"We have no choice. If we don't fight, we will perish."
After his most respected human opponent, Grand Marshal Anduin Lothar, lost to him at the foot of Blackstone Mountain, Orgrim once wondered why humans did not collapse, but instead burst out with stronger morale.
Later, he understood that at that time, the alliance was no longer about coming together for profit, but like the orcs, fighting to the death for survival.
Orgrim knew that the entire tribe had been deceived and betrayed by Gul'dan and his Shadow Council. Their shameful behavior caused the orcs to lose their homeland and reason, and brought war and killing to every corner of Draenor. A corner.
The part of them that still has a conscience thinks that the orcs' behavior is not honorable, and they are ashamed of the innocent blood on their hands.
The orcs pursue battle and victory, not massacre without any glory. Orgrim knows this very well, but he is the leader of the camp. He can only bite the bullet and lead the orcs on a path that does not know right or wrong. OK.
The survival and destruction of the entire ethnic group depended on his thoughts. He could not have unnecessary kindness and mercy. Even if it was morally condemned, Orgrim had to do it.
This is also the reason why he chose to die in battle: humans gave him a good opportunity and sent their most elite troops to encircle and suppress the orcs.
He hoped that his death would bring about a new life for the orcs, and that he could be relieved of his burden and die in "honor".
But sometimes, things don't develop as he imagined.
When Orgrim opened his eyes again and sat up from the cold ground, he felt his "difference".
The strong muscles and powerful physique have not changed, and have even become stronger, but his originally dark complexion has become a little bloodless pale.
The newly resurrected Orgrim felt that his thinking was very chaotic. A large amount of complex knowledge and unprecedented power surged restlessly in his body. He had to concentrate to calm himself down.
"I...I should be dead."
The orc murmured to himself, very confused about his own state. He looked around, but there was nothing familiar to him except endless glaciers and dark clouds.
The cold wind blew on him. Orgrim's upper body was shirtless, but he didn't feel the slightest chill. He could just feel the wind blowing on him.
The wounds caused by the sharp blades and spears healed under the influence of dark magic. He felt that his body had become completely new, no longer as old as before, as if his body had returned to its peak youth.
There is no doubt that he is stronger now than he was in life. He has the combat experience brought by a lifetime of military service, and his body is stronger than when he was young.
After he calmed down, a look of anger appeared on Orgrim's face - he thought of one thing, the Psychic Knight created by Gul'dan during the Second War.
That traitor Gul'dan is still alive? The surging anger made it difficult for Orgrim to suppress his emotions. He suddenly jumped up from the ground, looking for the figure of the orc warlock.
"Orgrim, it seems that your ritual was completed well and you didn't turn into a brainless zombie."
This sound?
Orgrim was stunned for a moment. Although the voice had a mysterious soul tremor, he could still easily recognize its owner.
But that guy should be dead long ago! Died under his own war hammer!
He turned around in surprise and saw a familiar figure. His resolute face and somewhat sarcastic expression were something Orgrim would never forget.
"Anduin Lothar?! Aren't you dead?!"
"Haha, not just me, aren't you also dead?" Anduin Lothar was looking at Orgrim with a meaningful look.
The orcs didn't know what emotions were in Lothar's eyes, but there was definitely no hatred.
Orgrim frowned. He always felt that something was different about Lothar.
"Wait...why did your hair grow out? I remember you were bald a long time ago, right?"
Lothar could no longer pretend to be mysterious all of a sudden. The corner of the Generalissimo's mouth twitched and said, "Hey! Is your attention only focused on this kind of thing?"
Anduin Lothar used dark magic to "generate" his own hair. Although that thing was meaningless to a dead man, as a great nobleman during his lifetime, he still cared about his appearance.
If he hadn't been too busy during the Orc War, he wouldn't have lost a lot of the thick hair he had when he was young in just a few years.
In order to avoid eventually turning into a "Mediterranean", Lothar made a difficult decision to shave her head.
Unfortunately, Bald Head not only failed to give him a critical hit, but in the duel with Orgrim, his sword was broken by a "crit hit" from the opponent, and he lost the battle.
"Where is this place? Is it Gul'dan's conspiracy that we are like this?" Orgrim did not dwell on the hair issue anymore, but directly asked the doubts in his heart.
"This is Northrend, the far north of Azeroth. Our location is the northernmost tip of the far north, called Icecrown Glacier."
Lothar explained the situation of the two to Orgrim, "And now we are standing on the top of the glacier, the symbol of power of the Lich King, the Frozen Throne."
"The Lich King...what is that?"
"That's the person who resurrected the two of us. By the way, his predecessor was called Ner'zhul. You should know this name."
Orgrim's expression was filled with deep astonishment, "Ner'zhul?! I thought that coward was dead long ago! - And you said resurrection, where is the person who resurrected us?"
"He went to preside over another ceremony," Lothar seemed a little helpless, "Young people today, even the dead have to squeeze labor."
"What do you mean?"
"It means: Congratulations, you woke up from your long sleep and worked hard again. Before, I served the Alliance and you led the Horde, but now we both serve the Scourge."
Orgrim frowned. He could not accept such forced behavior. It was a blasphemy against the orc tradition.
"I can't accept such a thing. At worst, I will challenge that Lich King. Either I kill him, or I return to my ancestors again."
Lothar spread his hands, "What you want to do is your choice. My task now is to take you to meet this 'Lich King'. But before that, you'd better come and take a look at this, which happens to be above The view is good.”
Leading Orgrim to the edge of the platform of the Frozen Throne, Orgrim looked in shock at the prototype of the endless black silent city and the endless army of undead.
"This is only part of the strength of the Undead Scourge. Now, most of Northrend's territory is under the rule of the Lich King."
"Such a huge amount... What is his purpose in creating these? To cause more senseless killings?"
"In fact, he did not do these, but Ner'zhul - as for the purpose, it is a bit complicated to explain, but it is completely different from what you think, otherwise I would not choose to assist the new Lich King."
Lothar's eyes were equally complicated. He didn't know whether Alsace's choice was correct or not, but this mysterious prince actually asked him a question when he was a child.
"Sir Lothar, are you willing to give up your identity in order to protect human civilization and Azeroth?"
At that time, Lothar just smiled and responded, "If it is not to protect everything I cherish, what is the meaning of those false names?"
But what he didn't expect was that more than ten years after his death in battle, the little prince would actually have the power to shake the entire world.
There is no longer Grand Marshal Anduin Lothar, and now standing here is the high lord of the death knights, Anduin Lothar.
"Come on, Orgrim, I'll take you to the armory, and then meet our superiors."
Orgrim, who originally wanted to refuse, thought for a moment and then remained silent. He followed Lothar's footsteps and left the platform of the Frozen Throne.
Before leaving, Orgrim glanced at the empty throne and a strange-looking helmet placed on it.
Ten minutes later, Orgrim, who covered himself with thick rune plate armor, adjusted his shoulder armor while chatting with Lothar.
"There is actually a battle armor that can match the orcs here - and the material is more extraordinary than any metal I have ever seen."
Even the black iron plate armor he wore before was not as good as this set of rune plate armor.
"This is armor made of Saronite. Both its strength and toughness far exceed that of ordinary metals. It can't even compare to precious metals such as black iron and thorium. Its output is also higher than those of rare metals. There are countless Saronite iron ore veins buried in the glacier under our feet."
"You humans haven't used such high-quality metal before?" Orgrim was obviously confused.
"Haha, that's because the extremely cold Northrend is not suitable for us to survive at all. Our current bodies cannot feel the cold, but this place is a restricted area for any life."
"And Saronite has a characteristic. It will cause corrosion and damage that ordinary people cannot bear. Only the undead can be immune to this effect."
Orgrim nodded. Lothar's introduction had already made him realize the advantages and disadvantages of this metal. However, for the Scourge, this metal had no disadvantages at all.
The most difficult mining process is not a problem for the undead, and its side effects have no effect on the undead. It is simply the most suitable metal for the Scourge Legion.
Icecrown Glacier was tailor-made for the undead in terms of its strategic location and resource distribution. Orgrim's excellent strategic vision allowed him to quickly understand that the master of the Scourge had a grand plan.
Seeing that his old rival looked solemn and silent, Lothar still looked like a good old man and smiled easily, "You must be worried now. If the master of the Scourge Legion attacks, you orcs will also be affected. Spread, right?”
"Hmph, orc warriors are not afraid of these fragile bones."
"How many strong soldiers do you still have left after two wars? You all died in the battle, which shows that the situation of the orcs is not optimistic." Lothar hit the nail on the head, full of ridicule, "Or are you also under the influence of the new chief? He died because of a challenge? I’m afraid that Blackhand guy would be happy to jump out of his grave.”
"I'm not in the mood to argue with you, Lothar, you just need to know that we are not afraid of any challenge." Orgrim avoided the topic in depth, and the two stopped in front of a closed door, "We are still How long will it take to see that Lich King?"
"This is it."
High Lord Lothar pushed open the black metal door in front of them, and Orgrim quickly felt a sense of oppression coming towards his face.
The voice that almost resonated with Orgrim's soul made his heart that had stopped beating for a long time almost be stimulated to start beating again.
"Sir Lothar, you are here."
