Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 101:56. Drink this evil blood, the fighting spirit roars and the wind rises, the holy spear will be broken!

"Great Chief, the chiefs who have been summoned have also arrived at your fortress. They are waiting for you to issue a declaration of war."

Blackrock Warlord Orgrim strode into the Clan King's Hall, carrying his family's heirloom warhammer, and reported to Chieftain Blackhand, who was sitting on the throne:
"Gul'dan has confirmed that all preparations are complete. Bloodrage potions can be distributed to the warriors at your command."

"Yet you still harbor doubts about this, Orgrim."

Chief Blackhand, who was sitting on the throne, nodded in satisfaction and stood up.

He wore the black stone plate armor he had forged himself and the "Hand of Darkness" warhammer that imitated the Hammer of Destruction. He left the hall under the escort of the chieftain's guards. However, as he walked down the stairs, he glanced at his most trusted lieutenant and said:
"Aren't you going to drink the blood rage potion today?"

"I am only your servant, Great Chief. The wrong choices I made in my youth nearly destroyed the future of the Blackrock Clan. If you hadn't sacrificed your hand to retrieve the artifact, I would have become a sinner of the clan."

Orgrim sensed the chief's dissatisfaction and said sincerely:

"How can I, as someone like me, be qualified to share the same power with you? I don't think I deserve such an honor. Of course, if you ask, I will be willing to be your vanguard in battle.

Just like before, I will devote everything to the future of the clan."

"You are good at talking, and I always find nothing wrong with you. But Orgrim, you know very well that my anger is not directed at you personally."

The chieftain was a forthright warrior. He did not hide his dissatisfaction and waved his hand, saying:
"Eitrigg successfully recruited most of the warriors of the White Claw clan, and Fenris Wolfbring of the Thunderlord clan also arrived at my fortress today, but only the Frostwolf clan silently rejected the call of the Horde.

Durotan is your sworn brother!

The friendship between you transcends the bond of blood. Before he made this foolish choice that disregarded the death of his people, didn't you try to persuade him?"

"I have advised you, Great Chief. I wrote to him immediately. I sincerely ask Durotan not to offend you, and not to stand on the wrong side.

He never replied.

You know, Durotan has the best wisdom among the orc chieftains, but indecision is indeed Durotan's character flaw."

Orgrim sighed and replied:
"I just can't understand why he made this choice, but I know how to fulfill my loyalty to you, Warchief! After today's clan meeting, please give me a detachment. I will lead your warriors to Frostfire Ridge and have a frank 'talk' with Durotan.

At the clan council that elected you Warchief of the Horde, Durotan voted in favor on behalf of the Frostwolves, which means he must accept your command in this time of war."

"What if, despite your persuasion, he still refuses to contribute to the future of the orcs?"

Blackhand turned and looked Orgrim in the eyes.

The brave warlord did not evade the question. He said seriously:

"Then I will bring you a traitor's head!

The existence of the Frostwolf Clan will become a humiliating history, but the warriors who grew up in the cold wind of the lava snowfield will still have the opportunity to regain their honor and fight under your command to wash away the humiliation of cowardice! "

"Excellent! I knew I could trust you, Orgrim."

This answer satisfied Chieftain Blackhand very much. He reached out and patted Orgrim on the shoulder, saying:

"I will hand over my guard to you. My two useless sons will serve as your adjutants. They need to be led by a strong warlord and learn how to become outstanding Blackrock warriors. There is no one more suitable than you.

Remember to be low-key when handling this matter.

We are about to start a war with the blueskins, so it is best not to let the matter of the traitor be known to everyone. After dealing with the matter of the Frostwolf Clan, you can enter the Nagrand Grasslands from Frostfire Ridge and "deal with" the orcs in Garadar.

The once wise Gaia Anzong mother has become confused!

She actually colluded with the traitor Ner'zhul, explicitly rejected the envoy I sent and detained my daughter. She planned to use this method to coerce me. She planned to use conspiracy to make a great chief surrender.

How ridiculous!

It would be best if my disgraced daughter could be saved, but if Griselda must choose between her own life and the honor of her clan, I want her to die with no regrets."

"Uh"

These words made Orgrim blink. He hesitated for a moment and whispered:
"Actually, I've always felt that you were a little too harsh on Griselda. Your daughter is truly outstanding, no worse than Red and Maim. She's also been trying to show you how much she's grown."

"Oh, so in your eyes, I'm just a stubborn and stupid old orc, right?"

Blackhand shook his head.

In front of his most trusted lieutenant, this brutal and warlike chief, who was the most orcish, finally spoke out what was on his mind. He walked towards his warg and said:

"Griselda is my daughter. I've watched her grow up. I know how talented she is and her ambitions. However, the Blackrock Clan has never had a female chieftain. She longs to be a woman like Draka, a woman who is strong enough to make most men bow down to her. However, throughout the history of the orcs, there has only been one Draka.

She wanted a chance, and I gave her one.

I gave her the power to recruit the belligerent women in the clan to become warriors under her command. Although the title of "Valkyrie" was too exaggerated and stupid, she did a good job and demonstrated her leadership, so I gave her another chance to prove herself.

If Griselda can truly prove herself this time, I wouldn't mind promoting her to a high-ranking warlord like Red and Maim. If she can truly surpass Maim and Red, I'll even give her more opportunities.

But you see, she even did a terrible job helping Eitrigg recruit soldiers, and made herself a prisoner of Garadar's weak orcs.

How can this kind of behavior make me feel at ease?

Oh, for a warrior, ambition is a good thing, but if your strength doesn't match your ambition, it will bring disaster."

Orgrim did not answer.

He seemed convinced, but in fact this wise and brave adjutant had his own ideas.

He did not choose to give advice to Chieftain Blackhand at this time. As the chieftain's most trusted high-ranking warlord, Orgrim had clearly felt some changes in the chieftain in recent times.

Gul'dan's constant flattery and slander, coupled with the Bloodrage Potion's power to transform decay into magic, made him increasingly trust the Shadow Council. The auspicious omen of "the black wolf entering the dream" made the Warchief certain that this war against the Draenei would win an absolute victory.

He couldn't even wait for it.

It's a good thing to have confidence, but for a supreme commander to be certain of victory or defeat before the battle begins is a very dangerous signal.

The blue-skinned guys are not easy to deal with!
Even if the orcs have sufficient numerical advantage and will have an exaggerated quality advantage after drinking the Bloodrage Potion, underestimating the enemy and advancing rashly will definitely lead to a repeat of the foolish failure of the Shadowmoon Valley battle.

If Orgrim had command, he would definitely be more cautious in making decisions.

But unfortunately, he is only a high-ranking warlord. Although he is trusted, he knows that "keeping himself safe" is his top priority in front of the chief who is becoming more and more stubborn because of the "advantage is in me".

The reason is very simple.

If even he was driven out of the power center of the war tribe by the war chief, there would be no one to check the increasingly powerful Shadow Council.

This was also the common idea of him and another high-ranking warlord, Eitrigg, who was trusted by Chieftain Blackhand and was equally rational.

Both of them saw the threat posed by Gul'dan and his group of warlocks, but unfortunately, in the era of impending war, the warchief who was eager for victory needed the Shadow Council as a useful weapon of war, and even the voice of loyal people like Orgrim and Eitrigg was greatly weakened.

"If you don't plan to drink the Blood Rage Potion today, then don't go there, lest you be mocked by those careless chiefs."

The chieftain rode on his own wolf and said to Orgrim who was beside him:

"Stay here and gather my guards to prepare for the journey to Frostfire Ridge. After the ceremony, Rend and Maim will join you. Don't delay, set off immediately."

"As you command, Warchief."

Orgrim gave a military salute of obedience.

But before the chief left, he still reminded:

"Grom Hellscream, the Warsong Chieftain you recalled from the Highmaul front, is a warmongerer. He is undoubtedly dissatisfied with your decision and may even challenge your authority. But for the sake of unity within the Horde, you must be patient today.

Although Grom is arrogant, his fighting prowess and outstanding tactical talent are indeed the sharpest sword in your hand!"

"I can still win the battle without him!"

The chief scolded with a hint of dissatisfaction:
"Do you think I'll be afraid of Grom's provocation now that I'm no longer young?"

"No, I have confidence in your prowess, Warchief, but you are the commander-in-chief."

Orgrim explained:
"You can't always lead the charge. That's a task for someone like Grom, and you should be the one leading him. That way, his victories will embellish yours, and his defeats won't tarnish your glory."

"Alas, if my son had half your wisdom, I wouldn't be so troubled by the issue of succession."

The chief smiled, waved his hand and said:

"Okay, I accept the offer, Orgrim. Go and finish your work.

I also know what you are worried about. Don't worry, the filthy knife will naturally be disposed of after the task is accomplished. When the threat of the blue-skinned people is eliminated, guys like Gul'dan will no longer be qualified to steal power in my tribe!
Until then, he and his vile and cunning minions will be yours."

After saying this, the Great Chief left the huge fortress in Tanaan Jungle under the protection of his guards.

Orgrim told the Saurfang brothers to protect the Warchief, and then stood on the city wall and watched the Warchief's team disappear on the mountain road leading to the jungle peak. Gul'dan was going to hold a ceremony on the peak tonight, which he called the "Blessing of Power Ceremony."

Orgrim was very glad that although the Warchief he served regarded Gul'dan and the Shadow Council as his right-hand men, he was not completely bewitched. The Warchief had a pure warrior heart. As long as he was determined, there was very little Gul'dan could do in the dark.

Even now that the Shadow Council is so powerful, the fact that a group of warlocks still have to use the name of Chieftain Blackhand speaks volumes.

A moment later, Orgrim touched his chest and took out a letter written on an animal skin scroll from his body. The letter was signed with the orcish symbol "Durotan", which meant that he and his sworn brother had always been in contact.

This means that just now, he deceived his chief!

But it wasn't done with malice.

Durotan did not persuade him to betray his chief in his heart. He just invited Orgrim to go to Frostfire Ridge to meet him as soon as possible. He also told Orgrim not to participate in tonight's ceremony, let alone drink the so-called "Blood Rage Potion".

Although his brother did not explain why, Orgrim had no intention of drinking anything Gul'dan offered him, even without Durotan's warning.

He knew he had to go to Frostfire Ridge.

Orgrim did not think that Griselda Blackhand was captured in the Nagrand grasslands because the girl was not good enough. In fact, when he received the news, he strongly doubted its authenticity.

Even though there was a lack of evidence at the moment, he could still sense that something strange was happening without the Great Chief noticing.

Right on the Nagrand grasslands!

The most direct example is that the usually neutral Garadar orcs this time together with the Frostwolf Clan refused the conscription of the Horde.

Although Mother Gaiaan is Durotan's mother, family affection cannot be the first factor for the chiefs to make decisions regarding the survival of the clan.

What's more, the leader of the White Claw clan, the most stubborn, conservative and traditional old chief Zagrel, is still missing.

The letter sent back by Eitrigg clearly explained the whole story. It was Griselda Blackhand who took the initiative to request to send White Claw to Nagrand for treatment. If Griselda was captured, what would be the current condition of Chief Zagrel?
This information is important!
But Chief Blackhand no longer cares about this.

Eitrigg brought back tens of thousands of elite White Claw warriors for him, and with the Thunderlord's submission, he believed the situation in Frostfire Ridge was settled. However, Orgrim knew that as long as the Frostwolves remained restless, the situation in Frostfire Ridge would remain unsettled. His deception to gain free movement into Frostfire Ridge was not only to respond to his sworn brother's invitation, but also to uncover what was truly happening in that snowy land.

The commander's war instinct was warning him that there were terrible hidden dangers there, which would even directly affect the upcoming war of conquest.

------

"You sent twelve messengers at once to call me and my powerful warriors back from the front lines to this damn place, just to make me drink this damn 'potion'?
You want me to give up the victory that is about to be achieved, the glory of personally destroying the Goria Ogre Empire, and flee from the battlefield like a coward just for such a ridiculous reason?

With all due respect, Black Hand!
Are you fucking crazy?"

On the highest peak of Tanaan Jungle, a low roar echoed in the dead of night, completely disregarding the majesty of the warchief, as if it were a provocation.

Black Hand jumped down from the black wolf and glanced at the roaring guy. He hated the loud voice of the dog in front of him.

As expected of an orc named "Hellscream", his voice is comparable to the echoing of war drums in the hell of war.

"Shut up, Grom."

The chief said in a cold tone:
"Put down the battle flag in your hand. Before you do something stupid in front of so many chiefs and warlords, I'll give you one last chance! I didn't ask you to come here today to perform a killing fight. I'm not interested in that!

Save your strength, for you will have enemies to slay and wars to fight in the future."

"But I've already won!"

The orc chieftain, who was tall, as strong as Blackhand but younger than him, wore majestic clan armor and carried a finely crafted, ferocious battle axe. His iconic black chin was said to be natural, but some said it was some kind of tattoo.

This made him look much more terrifying than other orcs when he was angry.

The twisting of his facial muscles and the hot air from his nostrils blowing the golden nose ring made this black-haired guy look like a devil from hell.

He held the battle flag in his hand, strode forward and roared:

"My warriors have already stormed Highmaul, and the pathetic Lord Mar'gok can only cower within his ridiculous magical walls, daring not to show his head!
It only takes a week!

Do not!
It only takes five days. Give me another five days, and I can destroy the last city of the Goria Empire with my own hands and kill the last king of the ogres with my own hands.

That was the victory I longed for and you took it away!

Come!
I had already decided on the way that I would use a Mak'gora to redeem my honor. An old and weak insect like you has no idea how to lead us. If I can't cut off Mar'gok's head, then using your head instead will be the same.

If we are to bloodbath Draenor with war, the orcs should have a younger, stronger, and more invincible leader."

"enough!"

The mastermind couldn't hold back his anger either.

This damn Grom Hellscream has really mastered the "provocative tactics". With so many chiefs and warlords here, he really doesn't give himself any face with his stinky mouth.

The other chiefs were also sitting or standing around the mountain, but no one stepped forward to stop or intervene.

Fenris Wolfbride of the Thunderlord clan was throwing fresh pieces of meat to his wolf; Kargath Bladefist, the sadistic chieftain of the Shattered Hand clan, was sharpening his signature fist blade with a sinister look on his face, as if waiting for the "fight to begin"; Zuluhed, the warlock chieftain of the Dragonmaw clan, was leaning on a dragonbone staff and seemed to have no interest in anything around him.

Old Dal TripleBloodblade of the Burning Blade Clan knelt under the battle flag like the most standard orc swordmaster, with the legendary artifact, the Flame Blade Sanksu, placed flat on his knees.

The respected old chief had no interest in this ridiculous private fight.

Chieftain Kaz the Screamer of the Laughing Skull Clan showed a provocative smile, while Chieftain Hulkan Skullsplitter of the Bone-Eating Clan was talking to the warlord beside him, his brows full of excitement.

Gul'dan, the chieftain of the Stormrage Clan, was tending to the magical crucible on the flames not far away. He focused all his energy on brewing the bloodrage potion and paid no attention to anything around him.

In addition to the chiefs and warlords who responded to the call of the great chief, there was also a tall young orc.

He stood alone outside the crowd, wearing a helmet made of wolf leather. There was no clan flag to prove his identity, but the giant black battle axe on his back made no one present dare to underestimate him.

That battle axe is called "Serasil" and is the artifact of the "Black Scar Clan"!

Unfortunately, it was a clan that had already been destroyed and was also one of the victims of the "Battle of Blood River".

The warrior stared at Grom and Blackhand. He seemed very curious about how the warchief would respond to Grom's provocation.
How will Black Hand respond?
Very simple!
Now that you know why Grom Hellscream is unhappy, give him what he wants.

"Drink the bloodrage potion, Grom."

Warchief Blackhand stopped the angry Saurfang brothers who were about to teach Grom a lesson. He grabbed the battle flag that Grom threw and did not let it fall to the ground, and then scolded:
"What you want is right in front of you. We are about to launch a war against the blueskins, and you are the vanguard of the tribe!
The first battle of the attack on Shattrath City is yours, the Warsong Clan! All the honors are yours, and all the spoils are yours first. After we execute the blue-skinned prophet, in the ruins of that city, I will accept your challenge!

As you said, a Mak'gora!
If you want the glory and throne of the Great Chieftain, you must first make brilliant contributions to all orcs and our tribe!"

"The Great Chief is right."

Gul'dan finally prepared all the potions beside the crucible. In the green light, the First Warlock took a cup made of the horn of a clefthoof from the disciple next to him and reached into the crucible to scoop a handful.

He raised the green liquid overflowing with power and said to Grom Hellscream:

"Only a chieftain who has made contributions to the orcs is qualified to lead us! And only a chieftain who has brought glory to this world is qualified to rule it!

And you! Hellscream, killing a weak ogre leader is not enough to demonstrate your so-called bravery and strength. How can an ogre who has been in decline for hundreds of years compare with a cunning blue-skinned man?

Not long ago, those blueskins awakened their ancient saint, the guy named 'Diachem Zastins', who brutally killed Kilrogg Deadeye in their city, and our attack on the Temple of Karabor was also thwarted by him!
Compared to the weak Viren and the old Hatton, Diakum is more like a war leader invited back by the Blues from their long history.

If you can kill him, if your Bloodhowl can drink his holy blood, you will be qualified to challenge the Blackhand Warchief! Don't forget, who provided food and grass to your Warsong Clan, and who mobilized the Twilight Hammer Clan as your reinforcements?
Without the support of a brave and wise warchief, your wolf riders, chased by the Krokuun army, would never have the chance to break into Highmaul."

"Hehe, Diakham Zastins?"

Grom Hellscream turned his head and looked at Gul'dan's burning neck sarcastically. He said:

"I heard that he killed you once? Wizard, are you planning to borrow my battle axe to avenge your weakness? You are such a lame dog barking for your master! Don't you even have the ability to fight on your own?"

"Hahaha"

This brilliant taunt caused the surrounding chiefs and warlords to burst into laughter, and even made Blackhand's mouth curl up slightly. He suddenly found that Grom's straightforward and annoying style was quite useful at certain times.

Look at how he mocked Gul'dan, and that guy didn't even dare to retort.

"Yes, I failed, but that doesn't mean I'm weak. Just like you claim to be strong, you also need to face the Sentinel head-on and win."

Gul'dan didn't care.

You're all warlocks now, right?

The face and other things have long been used as spell materials.

He pushed the magic blood in his hand towards Grom Hellscream, and a strange smile appeared on his hideous and dark face. He said in a long voice:

"Drink, drink, Grom, this is your fate, this is the fate of the orcs.

Drink this water of power, then touch the shadow flame to receive the wolf spirit's blessing of wrath. Only then will you be able to withstand the burning of the holy fire and win a chance to kill the blue-skinned saint."

Under the gaze of the other chiefs and warlords, Grom roughly snatched the "Blood Rage Potion".

The pungent smell made the chief grit his teeth. He looked at the green liquid in his hand, and the anger of the warrior seemed to be activated at this moment, which made him realize that Gul'dan had not deceived him.

This thing can indeed give him the blessing of strength.

But before drinking it, Grom glanced at Gul'dan. This tough and powerful orc asked inexplicably:
"But Gul'dan. What is the price?"

"The price? The price is war, the price is death, the price is destruction!"

Gul'dan responded with such passion that his voice broke:

"The price is our war against the blueskins, the price is the tragic death of our enemies under your battle axe, the price is our bloodbath in Draenor, using the destruction of other races to forge a path of bones for the rise of the orcs!

Yes!

It is a road of glory, a road that leads to a supreme future.

Only those who make contributions are worthy of recognition, you and us.

The great chief gave you the honor of drinking blood, Grom, because you are the most powerful among us! Do not live up to this honor, do not live up to the expectations of the tribe, ah, the pioneer of the war that brings death, embarking on the road of destruction is your destined fate.

Drink it!

Embrace it.”

"Drink it, Grom Hellscream of the Warsong clan."

Chieftain Blackhand howled, fully displaying the power blessed by the black wolf spirit. Amid the roar of the Slayer, one black ghost wolf after another rushed out from the shadows behind the chieftain. He loudly declared:
"The war has begun! From this moment on, Draenor is destined to belong to the orcs, and the glory will eventually belong to us! For blood! For glory! For victory! For the Horde!!!"

"For the tribe!"

Amid the roars of the furious orcs, Grom drank the blood in the cup in big gulps, then raised the cup high and smashed it down with anger and the blessing of the wolf spirit. The sound of the glass breaking and the roaring sounded like the beating of a war drum.

Under the satisfied gaze of the great chief, one chief after another stepped forward to drink the blood, making the sky noisy tonight.

In an unnoticed corner, on a branch at the edge of the mountain, a black raven was gracefully combing its feathers with its beak. Apart from the shy moon in the sky, it might be the only witness of this fall.

The raven's eyes, bright as violet gemstones, watched the "cult scene"-like blood-drinking ceremony below, and witnessed the orcs cheering for the surge in power. Three parts of sarcasm, three parts of curiosity, three parts of regret and one part of sneer appeared in its eyes, but the remaining ninety points were all anticipation!
The raven was so happy.

On the first night of his wandering in this strange world, fate presented him with such a wonderful drama.

Well, these orcs drank the devil's blood so happily, not even caring about the terrible sequelae it would bring to them individually and as a group. It seems that their brains are not very good, but they are surprisingly full of martial virtues.
In that case, perhaps I can use them to accomplish something even greater.

Just consider it as waste utilization.

Yes!

When the first orc drank the devil's blood, this world destined to be ravaged by demons was already beyond salvation.

But one's hometown will "benefit" from this.

Before the real threat arrives, perhaps I should arrange a small "doomsday warning" for my family back home.

If the divided kings and lords can't even deal with these guys, then there is no need to waste time in my long-decayed hometown. If the weak forest cannot withstand natural disasters, then I will burn it down and rebuild my once glorious power in the warm ashes.

Having foreseen the danger, perhaps it is time to seek another path guided by foresight and wisdom.

However, your little world of Draenor has both the Life Force and the Light Force. The elemental ways are flourishing, and now even demons are trying to get involved.

At the moment the raven spread its wings and took off in the frightened night, it thought to itself:
This shallow pond with many turtles is quite lively.
Well, this really makes me, the "Star Mage" who came from afar, happy!

(End of this chapter)