Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 120:19. A Cold Night in Frostfire Ridge: Someone Must Prepare for the Worst Outcome
The warring tribes finally took action.

Although it seemed from Diakum's perspective that a lot had happened since the initial covenant of the Alliance of K'ure was signed, in reality, only less than ten days had passed since then.

From Chieftain Blackhand summoning the chiefs to drink the blood of demons, to the war tribe's army beginning to encircle the city of Shattrath from both sides, the speed of the advance fully demonstrated the orcs' terrible advantage in aggressive warfare.

Although wolf riders are a special type of soldier for them, this does not mean that only wolf riders have wolf companions. With the marching speed of the wolves domesticated by the orcs, if these guys are allowed to seize the initiative, I am afraid that there will no longer be any safe areas in the entire Talador area.

However, Diakum is not particularly worried about the safety of Shattrath City and the Talador region.

For the past two hundred years, Father Hatton's policies have basically been based on protecting the safety of his people. That tough-minded Krokuun has almost turned the Talador region into an impenetrable steel defense circle.

The only thing to worry about is the orcs seizing the Pilgrim's Way or sending a detachment towards Shadowmoon Valley by sea.

Once the Pilgrim's Way was captured, the Temple of Karabor would immediately become an isolated enclave in Shadowmoon Valley. Although Diakom had previously thwarted Gul'dan's ambitions there, he was unable to isolate Tanaan Jungle and Shadowmoon Valley from each other across the sea by himself, so the defensive pressure faced by the Draenei was quite great.

However, in addition to facing the demon-blooded orcs' attack on Shattrath City, Diak'um and Ner'zhul were both worried about the situation in Frostfire Ridge.

It is also one of the war centers on the continent of Draenor.

Especially after the Frostwolf Clan joined the Alliance of K'ure, resisted the conscription of Warchief Blackhand, and would never participate in the bloody massacre of the warring tribes, and would never allow its members to drink the blood of demons, the Frostwolf Clan became a thorn in the eyes of the Warchief.

Whether it is out of the Great Chief's maintenance of his own authority or from a practical strategic consideration, the Frostwolf Clan must be dealt with as soon as possible.

With the elite warriors of the White Claw clan already recruited and taken away by Overlord Eitrigg, and most of the White Claw clan's territory already swallowed up by the Thunderlord clan, Fenris Wolfbring, the eldest son of Mother Gaiaan, the eldest brother of Durotan, and the chieftain of the Thunderlord clan, is determined to take this opportunity to seize his incompetent brother's clan, truly unify Frostfire Ridge, and make the Thunderlord clan a large clan that can rival Blackrock and Warsong.

Fenris's fierce wolf riders now guard the Thunder Pass, the only strategic and dangerous route in and out of Frostfire Ridge.

He and the Chieftain's Guard, led by Orgrim Doomhammer, Blackhand's most trusted warchief, have actually trapped the Frostwolf Clan in Frostfire Ridge. Even though the Frostwolves are one of the largest clans in the orc civilization, the situation they are facing now is much more dangerous than that of Shattrath City.

The Draenei at least have two real strong cities as bulwarks, but the Frostwolf Clan has nothing.

The orcs' civilization has not yet developed to the point where they can build a fortress on the permafrost of Frostfire Ridge, so the Frostwolf Clan has almost no defenses except for the terrain advantage!
Faced with the relentless advance of the Great Chief's army, Frostwolf Chieftain Durotan decisively chose to retreat. He concentrated his clan's warriors in the Frostwolf Clan's traditional territory and abandoned the outer territories. He also moved the elderly, the weak, women and children to Wor'gol Fortress.

That place is located in the southwest of Frostfire Ridge, which has an extremely high altitude, and is currently safe.

The greatest luck for the Frostwolf Clan right now is that, whether the Thunderlord Clan and Orgrim Doomhammer are willing or not, if they want to further attack the Frostwolf Clan, they must first cross the huge fortress group of the Bladespire Ogres.

It was once the largest border city in the Gorian Empire and the largest stone fortress in the Frostfire Ridge region.

The savage and powerful ogre warlords don't care what you, Chieftain Blackhand, want to do. They will not take the initiative to make way for the Demonblood Tribe and let this group of strange green-skinned orcs exterminate the brown-skinned orcs of the Frostwolves. It's not that they have a good relationship with the brown-skinned orcs, but it's simply that the violent green-skinned orcs don't intend to pay the "toll". Oh, they are planning to perform a show of getting something for nothing for the ogre uncles in Dota Fortress, right?
Haha, if I don’t let you experience the ogre ancestors’ art of cooking “people” today, I will write the name of our Dota Fortress upside down!

But the good news is that the tribal warriors who drank the devil's blood are now in a very irritable state. If they can't find the enemy, they will even fight among themselves. Therefore, it is a good idea for the ogres to block their way.

Orgrim Doomhammer let his demonblood warriors attack the ogres in Frostfire Ridge everywhere, and they achieved great success within a few days.

The terrifying fighting power of the Demonblood Orcs forced the Bloodmaul Ogres in the northern part of Frostfire Ridge and the Bladespire Ogres who dominated the central area to even join hands to fight against the threat of the Horde. For Chieftain Durotan, who used to regard ogres as bandit threats, this wave is truly a classic example of "bandits die for the country, and the invaders defend the country."

But the fact is, the ogres are unlikely to stop the army of Orgrim Doomhammer.

Once Fenris Wolfbrother, who is currently devouring the White Claw clan's territory, frees up his hands and sends his ferocious and brutal Demon Blood Wolf Cavalry into the battlefield, it is estimated that the ogre barbarians in the entire Blade Tower Fortress will be driven into autism.

These ogres have been in decline ever since their wizard leader was strangled to death in the Battle of Blood River. Over the years, not to mention a second wizard leader, they have split into warlords one after another. With such a scattered state, it is difficult for them to support a full-scale war against the orcs.

Therefore, for Durotan, the most important things at the moment are two:
First, the Frostwolf clan and the White Claw clan warriors who were unwilling to join the war clan must be encouraged to the point where they could fight a decisive battle before the ogres were defeated.

Second, he must take a risk!

He had to find a way to meet with his "sworn brother" Orgrim Doomhammer and find out what he thought before the Thunderlord Clan raised their butcher knife against the Frostwolf Clan.

This was obviously very risky. Although Durotan was very confident in the friendship they had formed since childhood, Drek'Thar, the legendary shaman of the Frostwolf Clan, firmly disagreed with the chieftain taking the risk. Unfortunately, the "blind prophet" could not persuade Durotan.

Especially since Lady Draka, the "backbone" of the Frostwolf Clan, the beloved companion of the Chieftain, and the legendary heroine, is not currently in Frostfire Ridge.

Well, it's not a good thing to have a wife who is too outstanding and too strong. Although Durotan has always had a peaceful home, there are always rumors outside that Durotan is a ridiculous henpecked orc chief.

"You don't have to take this risk with me, you old fogey!"

On a snowy night in Frostfire Ridge that could freeze an ogre to death, the Frostwolf Chieftain, riding a snow-colored wolf and wearing a clan helmet made of white wolf skin, trudged through the snow while complaining to the old shaman who was following him:

"You're not in good health and you're blind. Be careful not to slip and I'll have to rescue you."

"I'm not feeling well because of your stubbornness. As for my eyes, don't worry about them!"

The orc prophet riding a brown-black wolf said in a cold tone:

"After that foolish old man Ner'zhul and the Draenei saints risked their lives to save the elements, the shamans in my clan and I have regained the blessing of the elements. In this cold night, every wisp of wind is my eyes."

This legendary shaman has black cloth covering his eyes, indicating that he is a disabled orc.

It is said that he and Gul'dan are both orcs born with disabilities, and their starting points in life are equally miserable, but Drek'Thar's advantage lies in that his "reincarnation skills" are obviously much better than those of the unlearned Gul'dan.

He is a Frostwolf orc, and the Frostwolf clan has lived in the bitter cold of Frostfire Ridge for a long time, making them the most united and humane clan among the orcs.

Gul'dan was driven out of the clan and left to fend for himself because he was born lame, but Drek'Thar was not left to freeze to death in the snowy night. Instead, he was carefully trained and accepted as a disciple by the clan's legendary shaman, Mother Kashur.

His affinity with the elements is quite terrifying. Seniors like Ner'zhul have publicly praised Drek'Thar's talent and his respect and love for the elements on many occasions.

Ner'zhul always believed that after his death, Drek'Thar would most likely succeed him as the spiritual leader of the orc shamans.

In fact, this "prophecy" is not wrong.

In the official history of the Dark Portal, when that bastard Gul'dan "killed" the elementals of Draenor with the curse code, the orcs' shamanic heritage was completely cut off, and the elder Drek'Thar became one of the few stubborn people who still adhered to the elemental tradition. It was he who personally brought out Thrall, a powerful disciple who could represent the shaman career path, more than ten years later, and thus brought the ancient shamanic heritage back to the new tribe.

No matter how you evaluate it, Drek'Thar, like Ner'zhul, is a legendary shaman who occupies an important part of the history of the orcs.

His experience is the opposite of Gul'dan's. He has been working for the interests of the orc community all his life, but it should be emphasized that this legendary shaman is not a "pacifist" in the conventional sense.

The Frostwolf Clan led by him has been the overlord of the northern kingdoms of the Eastern Kingdoms for a long time. The fact that he has been able to live under the nose of Lordaeron, the most powerful human kingdom, for nearly twenty years has proved that this legendary shaman is a person who can definitely be ruthless at critical moments.

"Tell me, Drek'Thar, can my Draka convince Mok'Nathal's band of solitary hunters to join the Alliance of K'ure?"

Durotan soon arrived at the meeting place he had agreed to meet with his sworn brother. Beside a barren hill near the coast, surrounded by his own wargs, the Frostwolf Chieftain looked at the cold moonlight above his head and asked:
"And Chief Zagrel, after he came back from Nagrand this time, I felt like he had aged dozens of years in an instant."

"Zagrel's clan is gone, and his spirit is gone."

Faced with this question, the blind but thoughtful legendary shaman sighed and said:
"He was rescued and brought back to the mortal world by a Draenei saint, but only anger remained to support him. The White Claw Clan had effectively perished, and even if the warriors who followed him survived, they would not be able to reclaim the land from the Thunderlord Clan. Their only fate was to merge into the Frostwolf Clan.

I spoke with Chief Zagrel, and he had absolutely no intention of rebuilding his clan.

Maybe I've let it go.

His only thought now is revenge on Gul'dan and the Shadow Council. He will not allow the war tribe to drag more young people into destruction after devouring his clan.

So, your first question is answered, Durotan.

If only Lady Draka went to Gorgrond to persuade the hunters of the Mok'Nathal clan, the outcome would be fifty-fifty. But now with Chief Zagrel as a lobbyist, as long as the old hunter Leolox still has an ounce of shame, he will bring his entire clan to join our camp to repay the favor of the Battle of the Blood River.

There are no weaklings among the Mok'Nathal orcs!
They are few in number, but each one is a natural-born warrior, hunter, and assassin. Such an elite division, if used well, can definitely become the ultimate weapon in any war."

"But that's what worries me! What we can see, can't Blackhand and Gul'dan see?"

Durotan sighed and said:

"I fear that Draka and Zagrel are too late. I fear that just as the Overseers of Eitrigg seized the opportunity to devour the White Claws, Blackhand has sent others to recruit the Mok'Nathal.

They are too lonely.

If they are forced into a corner and can hardly find any reinforcements, in the most extreme case, I am worried that Leolox, with his strong character, may choose to fight to the death."

"Don't worry about it."

Drek'Thar shook his head and said:

"Given the terrifying perception of Mok'Natha's hunters, if Black Hand dares to mobilize a large army to encircle them, the wolf riders will be torn to pieces by the beasts tamed by those hunters before they even get close to Mok'Natha's hunting grounds. You've seen Leorox's son, right?"

"Rexxar?"

Durotan nodded and said:

"Indeed, I've seen that child. Ah, when he was ten years old, he could fight an ice porcupine with his bare hands. If my Gu'er can be half as healthy as that child in the future, I will thank the blessing of the spirits of my ancestors.

It is said that the child was born with a wild heart?"

"Well, Chief Kilrogg once commented on it himself. He said that if Rexxar had been born into the Bleeding Hollow clan, he would have abdicated the throne the moment the child passed his coming-of-age ceremony."

Drek'Thar smiled and said:
"You know how arrogant and conceited Kilrogg is. The fact that he could say such things shows how powerful Rexxar Remar's talent is. But someone from your G'uel has also arrived!

three people!
All carrying weapons!

Damn!

I think it's Orgrim with two assassins coming! Prepare for battle!

Drek'Thar drew two cold steel axes from his waist. Without him calling for it, the power of frost wrapped around the weapons. The two wolves also made a pounce posture, but Durotan had the demeanor of a general.

He stretched out his hand to suppress the shaman and whispered:

"Put down your weapons! I trust my sworn brother, and I believe in Orgrim's promise."

"Your trust in him may get you killed in these dangerous times!"

Drek'Thar sighed helplessly.

Durotan is truly good in every way, except for his tendency to be fussy at crucial moments. Wouldn't it be great if you could just take this opportunity to bury the enemy's chief commander right here in the wilderness? Wouldn't that mean the Battle of Frostfire Ridge could be won without a fight?

What?
You said you can't defeat Orgrim?

Isn’t I here?
What are you afraid of!

After the return of elemental power, as a legendary shaman, wouldn’t it be a piece of cake for me to crush a legendary warrior to death?
Of course, Shaman was just complaining.

He knew that Durotan was a man of integrity, and if the more decisive Draka had come tonight, perhaps this would have been accomplished.

"Look! He just brought two kids over."

Durotan took the initiative to walk up the hill and soon saw Orgrim Doomhammer riding a black war wolf, and two orcs, a man and a woman, riding wargs following behind him.

The Frostwolf Chieftain waved to his brother, who also waved in greeting in the snowy night. When they got closer, the two brown-skinned orcs, as tall as bears, came forward, hugged each other, and patted each other's shoulders in greeting.

Durotan spent most of his time in Frostfire Ridge, while Orgrim was the high-ranking warlord of the Blackrock clan in Gorgrond. After growing up, the two had fewer opportunities to meet than they had imagined, but the friendship they forged in their youth remained as unbreakable as before.

Even though the two were currently in a war of opposites, they never considered each other as enemies personally.

"Who are these two?"

Durotan looked curiously at the two orc warriors following behind Orgrim. He saw their very young faces. The female orc was older but not yet an adult, about the same age as Durotan's eldest daughter, and the male orc was just a half-grown child.

But they weren't timid. Judging from their demeanor, they had definitely experienced real combat and were already qualified warriors. "These are the families of two good friends of mine in the clan."

Orgrim whispered:
"They have decided to follow Chieftain Blackhand to participate in the war, determined to win glory for the clan, but now the chieftain has asked all members of the Blackrock clan, regardless of gender, to drink the bloodrage potion.
Alas, who am I kidding?

That's the devil's blood!

My spies witnessed the warlocks under Gul'dan making a deal with the demons, but there is nothing we can do. Things have come to this point, and even if we break this window paper, we cannot change the decision of the chief.

But the children are innocent.

My friends found a way to send their children to Frostfire Ridge. They also knew that it was not a good thing. They trusted me, but I have the 'supervisor' of the Blackhand Chieftain with me, so I can only ask you, my brother.

Keep Sora and Dranosh with you, and send them to Mother Gaiaan when the time is right."

"Ah."

Durotan nodded, patted the shoulders of the two worried and confused children, and asked them to go to Drek'Thar to warm themselves by the campfire first.

After the children left, Durotan's expression grew serious. He said:

"I won't waste my time testing you, brother. I've already written all the truth down in the animal skin scroll. Why are you still here?"

"I did not drink the demon blood, Durotan. I followed your advice."

Orgrim pulled back his sleeves. After seeing his brown skin, Durotan nodded but said worriedly:
"This is only temporary. My partner told me that she learned a lot about demon blood from the Draenei saint who was as bright as the sun and as wise as the stars. She said that the contamination of fel energy is contagious.

Even if you don't drink the devil's blood, if you stay with those devil-blood warriors for a long time, your skin will turn green and your mind will become cruel and ruthless.

If you don't want to participate in the war, come back with me tonight."

"No!"

Orgrim touched the Blackstone emblem on his breastplate and sighed.

"The chief has done me a favor, I cannot betray him!"

"So you plan to slaughter my people on the battlefield? Or even kill me?"

Durotan said irritably:
"Gratitude is gratitude, loyalty is loyalty! You can't bet your life on something like this. You've never been one for blind loyalty, so why are you so stubborn this time?"

"Because only in that position can I protect more people, Durotan, calm down. Not everyone in the Blackrock Clan craves war!"

Orgrim said in a deep voice:
"Do you know why you still have a chance to retreat your people? Eitrigg has already annexed the warriors of the White Claw Clan. If he had wanted to, the surprise attack on the Frostwolf Clan would have begun more than half a month ago!

You know how difficult that guy is to command a war, and you also know how amazing Eitrigg's grasp of the battle situation is.

He expressed his sincerity in this way and asked me to form an alliance with him to jointly protect the orcs of the Blackrock Clan.

You have a duty to your clan, and I have a duty to mine!

There's no need to discuss this further. As for the war you're worried about, it won't break out! At least not in Frostfire Ridge in the next few days!"

"Ok?"

Durotan looked at his sworn brother in surprise. Orgrim did not hide his strategy. He said:

"The Warchief has begun his war against Shattrath City, and he needs warriors to buy time for his army's advance into Tanaan Jungle. I can bring him enough soldiers.

I have ordered my troops to advance towards the Bloodmaul Ogre Fortress in the north of Frostfire Ridge. I intend to capture those ogres as reinforcements for the war clan. Don't worry, I know the Warchief. His desire for victory will make me ignore my "little mistake" in the Frostwolf War. If the Draenei can be tougher, then my "slave hunting" work in Frostfire Ridge will be more important.

You only need to deal with Fenris Wolfbring's wolf riders. Your eldest brother is eager to annex the Frostwolf Clan. He is very satisfied with my proposal and will soon take over the attack on you.

But I guess your 'reinforcements' are arriving soon."

"Where will we get reinforcements?"

Durotan snorted and said:
"The only passage into Frostfire Ridge, Thunder Pass, is still in Fenris's hands. He has blocked it, making it impossible for other clans to rescue us."

"Are you stupid?"

Orgrim pointed to the sea beyond the ice cliff and said:

"This place is across the sea from the Nagrand Steppes, and the orcs don't have ships big enough to travel here, but the Highmaul of the Gorian Empire has ogre warships like this.

I just received news that the Twilight Hammer Clan's attack on Highmaul has failed, and Gul'dan's student, the dark ogre wizard Cho'gall, has died at the hands of the Draenei saint Diachem.

It is said that the wizard leader Mar'gok has joined their Alliance of K'ure. If I were Diak'um, I would immediately send ogres to Frostfire Ridge to rescue you.

This would also allow the Goria Empire to enter the Blade Tower Fortress and incorporate the ogre army there.

While I can't say for sure when those ogres will come, or even if they will come, remember!
Durotan, this is your only chance to save your people!"

The High Commander narrowed his eyes and said to his good brother in the cold night:
"You must seize every opportunity to reach an agreement with that greedy wizard leader. The ogres will belong to them, but Blade Tower Fortress will belong to you!

As long as the Frostwolf Clan enters the sturdy fortress left by the Ogre Empire, the wolf cavalry of the Thundergod Clan will be unable to do anything to you. Over the past so many years, the ogres have relied on that huge fortress to withstand the siege of the three clans.

It's a safe haven there, and it's enough for you to hold out until this war is completely over.

After the war, the Frostwolf Clan will be able to use the Stronghold to launch a counterattack against the Thunder King Clan and gradually take back your territory!
At that time, do not hesitate, and you must attack Grom'gar, the fortress of the Thunderlord Clan, in one go, so that the Frostwolf Clan can completely unify Frostfire Ridge and become the greatest support of the orcs after the war.

Only if you are strong enough, and only if your words carry enough weight in the Alliance of K'ure, can you protect the orcs from being slaughtered by the Draenei and Gorian ogres in the name of reckoning after their defeat.

In my estimation, even if Gul'dan brought the demon blood, this war would not be as long as you think.

If the Horde's offensive against Shattrath City is hindered, and if the Alliance of K'ure gains the advantage and attacks Tanaan Jungle, Gul'dan's shabby plan will completely fail.

By then, Warchief Blackhand will have cooled down from his frenzy of conquest, and that will be the best time for Eitrigg and I to offer our advice.

The chief's mind is now full of "the advantage is mine"!
All his sanity has been muddled by Gul'dan's flattering words, and now he must obey him."

Durotan remained silent for a long time after hearing this. After more than ten seconds, he reached out and punched Orgrim's black plate armor. He smiled and said:
"You've arranged almost everything! I think you're the most suitable person to be the Warchief of the Horde compared to Blackhand. You'd definitely do a thousand times better than him. If you lead the Horde, my brothers, the Frostwolf Clan will obey!"

"Don't be too happy yet, Durotan. You'd better take some time to meet the 'Vigilant' in person on my behalf."

Orgrim Doomhammer sighed and said:
"Even though I've never met him, from the information I've gathered so far, he's definitely the most dangerous opponent you can imagine. It was because of his activeness that the Draenei quickly transitioned from a state of bewilderment to a state of war in just over a month!
There is no doubt that although that guy is not the Grand Archon of the Draenei, his reputation in the Draenei army is no less than that of the two leaders.

You must test him. What worries me most now is that the sentinel is a "strike at the end of his tether" iron-blooded general.

Once he decides that all green orcs must be destroyed"

"How many people have drunk blood now?"

Durotan's expression changed, and he asked:

"I've been trapped in Frostfire Ridge and unable to communicate with the outside world. Tell me, Orgrim, how many of our people have become demonic descendants?"

"Blackrock, Warsong, Shattered Hand, Dragonmaw, Burning Blade, Laughing Skull. Almost every great clan you can imagine is drinking demon blood."

Orgrim said in a heavy tone:

"Even if we only count the elite warriors, the number of demon-blooded orcs has already exceeded 200,000! There are still a large number of warriors drinking that disgusting stuff every day. I have no way to stop those chiefs who have gone mad for various reasons from feeding demon blood to civilians.

What I fear most is that this thing will spread among all of our people like a poison, and by then, most of the orcs will become demons who must be exterminated.

It is the warrior's choice to drink the devil's blood and die on the battlefield!

But the orcs were forced to drink the devil's blood.
They are innocent too!

Do you know why I must ensure your Frostwolves gain a voice in the Alliance of K'ure as soon as possible? Durotan. When all is lost, you and your Frostwolves will become the last refuges of those innocents forced to drink blood.

My brother, I place upon you a terrible duty."

"What if Blackhand, even after his defeat, refuses to listen to you and Eitrigg's advice?"

Drek'Thar, who had been keeping the campfire nearby and remained silent but had been listening, spoke up:

"What if he launches a suicidal attack even though he knows he'll fail, dragging all the orcs to their deaths? You and I both know Blackhand will make that choice! The Blackrock Clan is a brutal clan, and you have a tradition of cold-bloodedness.

What's more, a guy like Grom Hellscream, who was born for battle, would not willingly accept failure.

Reasonable people like you and Eitrigg will only be drawn into that vortex, from which you will never escape."

"He won't!"

Orgrim said coldly, but Drek'Thar pressed the issue:

"Why do you guarantee that?"

"because."

The High Warlord of the Blackrock Clan touched the handle of the warhammer behind him. He sighed and said lightly:

"I won't allow him to make such a despicable choice!"

Several orcs were stunned.

The two young men were shaking with fear. The older female warrior, Sora, hugged her cousin Dranosh. She looked at the warlord Orgrim Doomhammer in horror, who had made some kind of decision.

The other party noticed the child's fear, gave her a gentle smile, and then turned over and rode on his black war wolf.

In the snowy night, he turned to Durotan and said:
"I leave everything to you, my brother, if we never meet again"

Durotan understood his brother's determination. He pounded his chest with his fist and said loudly:

"May you die a worthy death, my brother."

"The spirits of the ancestors will protect you, brave warrior."

Drek'Thar also gave his blessing. They watched Orgrim disappear alone in the cold night of Frostfire Ridge, as if it was a farewell without saying goodbye.

"Let's go. Don't let the children get cold. They are from Gorgrond and are not used to the bitter cold of Frostfire Ridge."

Durotan wiped his eyes, turned around and tried to smile at the two children. He took off his animal skin cloak and put it on them, and asked softly:
"Who is your father? A warrior whom Orgrim considers a friend must be no ordinary man."

"us."

The two young orcs looked at each other, and the female orc carrying the battle axe said in a hoarse voice:
"Our last name is 'Saurfang'. Our father and uncle say they fight for us, but we only want to curse this war that turns people into monsters. We may not yet understand what 'glory' is, but my brother and I are skeptical.
Is it really possible to gain honor by drinking that disgusting stuff?"

Ps:

Thanks to my brother "SpongeBob in the Deep Sea" for the reward. I currently owe 135+5 chapters, so I won't say anything more. I will work hard to save up the manuscripts, so please stay tuned every month.

(End of this chapter)