Remember in one second to provide you with wonderful novels to read. "The war will end this year. My warchief, the invincible Doomhammer, victory will eventually belong to the orc tribe."
Gul'dan knelt respectfully in front of Orgrim.
"So Warlock, what good news have you brought for me, the orcs, and the tribe? Don't be anxious, don't panic, think about it slowly, I will give you enough time. Then, you'd better think of a better reason, Think of a reason for me to selectively forget what you did on the Burning Steppes."
Orgrim lifted the Doomhammer that was leaning next to the chair between his legs, folding his hands and resting on the handle of the hammer.
"Dear Chief, in order to win, sacrifice is inevitable, necessary, and necessary. In the same way, in order to win, it is natural to borrow the power of the devil."
The somewhat keratinized skin on Gul'dan's face had obvious wrinkles due to his smile, giving it a visual effect like snake or dragon scales.
"Oh, what kind of harvest is it? Tell me and see if it is worth wasting two thousand slaves. See if it is worth wasting 700 compatriots outside the battlefield for your willfulness. See if it is worth taking a ride on. We arranged for the Overseer in the Burning Steppes."
Orgrim's tone became softer and softer, but his grip on the Doomhammer became stronger and stronger.
"First of all, my great chief, although I know you have never really trusted me, I must appeal for myself."
Gul'dan stood up slowly.
"The death of Jerriesa, the high-ranking warlord of the Deathclaw, was the deliberate murder of the dwarves, not my fault. Then, I brought a new power to the Horde, which was enough to destroy the alliance's fragile defense line. It was unparalleled. the power of."
"So, what is it."
Orgrim also stood up, with the Doomhammer held in the right hand by the tribal chief, and then walked towards Gul'dan step by step.
"Burning flame, living demonic fire."
Gul'dan took out a wooden cylinder from his belt. Passed it to Orgrim.
"Hell, it smells even worse than the original blessed blood. What the hell is this?"
Orgrim just pulled out the plug, and the pungent smell hit his face. The liquid emitting fel radiation made the Warchief uncomfortable. So Orgrim stuffed the cylinder again.
"Demon blood."
"Say something I can understand, Warlock, and don't show off your dark knowledge."
Orgrim returned the cylinder to Gul'dan, then turned back to his seat and put the Doomhammer back to his side.
"Warchief. Didn't you notice? Those guys from the Alliance are adapting to the war, and they are becoming more and more difficult to deal with. Although the warriors of the tribe are still winning, they keep winning, but we have been defeated by various victories throughout the year. Comfortable in what the league calls Hillblade.”
After Gul'dan finished speaking, he laughed heartily.
"Are you accusing me, mocking me, Gul'dan."
Orgrim narrowed his eyes, then returned to his original form after a moment, and the warchief decided to forgive the warlock's offense.
"No. Great Orgrim, I just remind you that the Horde needs new weapons, weapons that can determine victory or defeat, weapons that can destroy the Alliance's determination to resist, just like we did in Shattrath."
Gul'dan opened his arms and spoke impassionedly.
"You mean we pour demon blood into their drinking water? I don't think humans would drink green water that tastes like shit."
Orgrim takes no opportunity to spread the bad taste of demon blood.
"No, the magic blood will be the source of power for the orcs, the source of all power. Stronger orc soldiers. Stronger death knights, and stronger warlocks, and enslaved demons."
Gul'dan chose his words carefully. Observing Orgrim's expression.
"Then, Gul'dan, you have one month to prove that your life is valuable. In one month, humans will start farming, and a new round of battles will begin. Don't think that your empty rhetoric You convinced me that your life is still yours for the time being. Just for the time being."
Orgrim tapped his nails on the strong wooden hand, and the rhythm happened to be Gul'dan's heartbeat. This made Gul'dan feel uncomfortable, giving him the illusion that his life was not under his control.
"Great Doomhammer, thank you for your tolerance and kindness. After one month, you will get satisfactory results, I promise. ← Baidu Search → [ㄨ书?Readingぁ屋"
Gul'dan answered more respectfully.
"Then, go and finish your work. Your time is running out."
"sure no problem."
After Gul'dan left Orgrim's camp, he returned to his tribe's camp. He took a short rest, studied the forbidden knowledge rewarded by Kazzak, and copied and compiled part of the forbidden grimoire used to train new warlocks. , and then left a phantom, teleported to a secret cave using magic.
"You're late, Gul'dan."
Lighting the torch, Red Blackhand sat deep in the dark cave, waiting quietly for Gul'dan.
"Because I thought you needed more time."
"So you are wrong, Orgrim trusts me more because I am more of a dog than you let on."
"But from your tone, from your eyes, from the sound of your heartbeat, oh, the warlord of the Burning Plains is not you, that's why you came so quickly."
Gul'dan's tone was full of mockery.
"Shut up, dirty warlock, do you want to fight with me here? What a great place."
Anger appeared on Red Blackhand's face.
"Future Warchief, is this how you treat your loyal supporters?"
Gul'dan's tone was still full of ridicule, but his expression was serious.
"Gul'dan, I don't hate Orgrim. My father failed in a glorious duel, and Orgrim won honorably. The reason why I oppose him is just because he can't lead the tribe and lead the orcs to the direction of Victory, even because of the fairness advertised by Orgrim, the Blackstone clan suffered heavy casualties. I, only I, Blackhand's son, Red Blackhand, am the one who is truly capable of leading the tribe."
Red Blackhand did not realize that his mind had been disturbed by Gul'dan. Inadvertently, the young Blackhand expressed his true thoughts.
It turned out that his induction method was wrong. This orc was obsessed with power and status rather than hatred.
"Yes, let's take a look at what Orgrim did after he became the warchief? Every day, orc warriors engage in meaningless bloodshed on the battlefield, and those humans are killed like maggots on carrion. Not enough, but our noble orcs are bleeding from maggots."
Gul'dan said in a voice that contained charming magic.
"But Orgrim let that bastard from the Wildstone clan go to the Burning Steppes as an overseer."
Reid Blackhand suddenly looked a little discouraged.
"So, what can I do for you, my friend."
Gul'dan asked in a gentle, mind-numbing voice.
In just a few sentences, Gul'dan's voice changes repeatedly and is so natural that one can't help but wonder whether the warlocks of the tribe are all monsters.
"Kill that bastard."
Red Blackhand said with gritted teeth.
"Oh, Orgrim is always protected by more than ten sword masters. Do you want me to die?"
Gul'dan shouted with an exaggerated expression.
"You know who I'm talking about! Anyway, you have already killed one Warlord of the Burning Plains, and you don't care about killing another one."
Red Blackhand didn't respond to Gul'dan's cold jokes.
"Of course it's a matter of satisfaction, my friend. But..."
Gul'dan drawled his voice.
"You'll get what you want."
After Red Blackhand said this, he extinguished the torch in his hand and disappeared into the darkness of the cave.
"Hehehehe, hahahahaha, ahhahahahahaha, idiots who are addicted to boring political struggles, don't you know that only strength can bring real power? Fight, rob, and then wait to die, the world will eventually burn. , only the Legion is eternal."
Red Blackhand walked away without hearing Gul'dan's wanton laughter, but he made up his mind.
"Gul'dan, I will not make the same mistake as Orgrim. When I become the warchief, the first thing I will do is to execute you. But before that, use it for me." (To be continued.).
