Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 137:36. Gul’dan’s Amazing Wisdom. This is also recorded in the Gate of Wrath. [915]

(Additional update for brother “Huo Zheng Ting Hao” [9/15])
"Ah, you all saw it! The shameless blue-skinned saint intervened in the holy Mak'gora! Like I said, Diakum Zastins, this bastard who claims to be a believer of the Holy Light, is just a complete hypocrite!
He stole the Horde's glorious victory right from under our noses!"

Outside the town of Tuurem, which has been occupied by the Horde, in the camp of the Horde vanguard, the high-ranking warlords who used warlock spells to watch the diplomatic battle in Shattrath City were filled with indignation. What's worse is that there was Gul'dan fanning the flames.

The hooded Primordial Warlock shouted excitedly, as if he actually cared about the outcome of this duel.

He shouted incitement:

"You all saw it! The mighty Chieftain Grom was only one step away from slaying the Blueskins' Great Prophet! He had already brought death to the weak Velen, but the appearance of the Vigilante stole our victory!

You are all warriors!

You all know the situation clearly. I'm not making this up. That's the sacred Mak'Gora. How can outsiders interfere so casually? Isn't this just cheating?
Isn't this bullying the honest person?

How can you bear it?

Do not!
I, an old warlock loyal to Chieftain Blackhand, cannot tolerate this!"

He incited the other angry orcs in front of the maintained reflection spell:

"When Diak'um joined the battle with flames, this Mak'gora was already unfair. Although Grom Hellscream is extremely powerful, he just fought a fierce battle with the blue-skinned Prophet. How could he have the strength to deal with a ferocious Vigilante?
This is a conspiracy!

There is no doubt that this is a conspiracy of the blue-skinned people!

Otherwise, there's no reason why that saint could suddenly appear at such a critical moment. It must be the other side who cheated first! The blue-skinned people must have planned it all along, using this shameless round-the-clock battle to wear down our powerful war chief.

You just watch your own people being bullied without even saying a word?

And you cowards are expected to win victory and glory for the Horde and the orcs?"

"Shut the fuck up, Warlock!"

The High Warlord, distraught by Gul'dan's taunts, turned around and roared:
"We were just about to set off. We certainly won't allow the blueskins to humiliate our chief. You're right, Grom has already won! It was the shameless blueskins who were the first to lose their moral compass."

"Then let's go!"

Another Warsong Warlord slammed his fist on the table and shouted:

"They stole Grom's glory, so we'll kill all the weak blueskins!"

With someone taking the lead, the camp soon became lively.

But just as the warlords were about to set off, Gul'dan stopped them. The eyes of the ancestor warlock under his hood flashed with cunning and strangeness. He said:

"We are just a vanguard. It is impossible for us to break into the Blueskin City with such a small number of people. The main force of Chieftain Blackhand has not arrived yet. Originally, Hellscream's challenge today was just a tactical speculation.

So, if you want to achieve greater results, you have to come up with some ideas.

I have a solution, it depends on whether you dare to use it."

"Ok?"

The high-ranking warlords looked at each other, and finally their eyes fell on Gul'dan.

He chuckled, turned sideways, and pointed at the Shadow Council warlocks behind him who were busy moving some jars.

Those warlocks who were usually known for their arrogance were extremely cautious when moving the jars. Each of them had to tiptoe for fear that the thing would hit the ground and release something terrible.

They placed the mysterious cans under the two-headed dragon saddle of the Dragonmaw Sky Knight in the camp, and covered them with a net bag like a bag of bundled cluster bombs, but the fact that Gul'dan was so careful and so confident proved that the contents of these cans were definitely much more dangerous than bombs.

"what is that?"

A Warsong Warlord sensed something was wrong and asked suspiciously:
"Why didn't you take them out while Chief Grom was here?"

"This has just been shipped from Zangara! It's the 'secret weapon' that the Shadow Council has spent a lot of effort preparing for the conquest of Warchief Blackhand!"

Gul'dan sneered and said:
"We are all orcs. Our clans have those poor souls who were infected with the Red Scourge due to physical weakness. You have all seen with your own eyes how that terrible disease can destroy a warrior's body and mind. It is a plague that all clans fear!

But we drank the Blood Rage potion, and with our strong bodies, we no longer need to worry about being infected by the Red Scourge.

Not the Draenei!
We secretly conducted experiments on captives. In front of the red scourge that we had re-tempered, those blue-skinned people would become half-human, half-ghost in a very short time. This thing would also cut off their connection with the Holy Light.

Hehe, we can take that city with it, Warlords.

The Dragonmaw Clan's skyriders will drop these into Shattrath from high above, and you should take these cans and smash them out when you get close to the battlefield.

Do not worry.

We who drank the potion and became stronger will not be infected, I promise."

At this point, a sinister glint flashed in Gul'dan's eyes, and he said meaningfully:

"And warlords, haven't you noticed? The glorious Chief Grom used his bravery to win us a perfect opportunity for a surprise attack.

The important blue-skinned figures such as the Great Prophet Velen, the hateful Sentinel Diakum, General Jaid of the Krokuun Legion, Grand Archon Hatun, and the defense general of Shattrath City, Tirasaran, were all gathered near the gate of Shattrath City at this time.

They want to see our war leader get beheaded by their shitty saint.

They are gathered together.

They were defenseless, and all it took was a surprise attack, a few canisters exploding all over them.
Huhu, yes, anything can happen on a dangerous and chaotic battlefield.

We can't easily kill that bastard Diakum under the protection of the Holy Light, but we can start directly from the blue-skinned body and destroy their connection with the Holy Light from the root.

By then, the draenei will be leaderless, and we will march into that city amid their wailing and triumph!"

"Use plague? Are you fucking crazy, Gul'dan!"

An angry orc warlord cursed:
"You are such a rotten bastard! This is not in line with our honor at all. No! This is simply trampling on our honor! I won't do it! I believe Chief Grom wouldn't want to win in this way either.

We can easily defeat them head-on on the battlefield, so why do we have to resort to such disgusting and despicable means?
Is this an order from Chieftain Blackhand?
Gul'dan!
Tell me clearly, is this your idea or the order of the tribal chief!"

"Oh, is there a difference?"

Gul'dan spread his hands and said:

"The War Horde needs victory, and the Warchief craves victory. How many warriors will have to die before you can capture that city? Using my method, it will only take a few days. We can even take Shattrath before the Warchief's main force arrives.

There is an easier way, why do you have to waste more time?
Do you care more about your own glory than the tribe's victory?

I bother!

You hypocritical beasts who shout about glory, what's the difference between you and those weak blue-skinned people who talk about morality and justice? "

"We don't need it!"

The Warsong Warlord who had taken the lead drew his battle axe. He looked at the jars that Gul'dan and the warlocks were carrying with disgust and cursed:

"Take your disgusting things away from our camp! We are proud Warsong orcs. We have our own way of war, and we disdain to use such things to pursue victory. If Grom knew we used the plague, he would kill us with his own hands!

Damn it, his son almost died in the red disaster!

Warriors, don't listen to this bastard's instigation, follow me! Let's go help our chief and put an end to this fundamentally unfair Mak'Gora!
There is no honor in this round-robin battle!"

He roared, and immediately received a response from the wolf riders in the camp. They rode on their wolves, howling and turned into a black muddy torrent, rushing out of Tuurem's camp.

Behind them, Gul'dan stared coldly at these idiots whose heads were all muscle.

He really couldn't understand why these guys allowed themselves to drink the devil's blood but were so resistant to using the plague?
Is there any difference between these two?

A group of degenerates actually naively want to retain a little sense of morality?

But when Gul'dan saw the Warsong emblems on their bodies and the battle axes in their hands, the smart warlock understood that these demon-blooded orcs did not think that using plague weapons was "inhumane".

They just felt that it was not in line with their tradition, they just felt that it was very un-"warrior-like".

What they opposed was only the use of plague to poison the blue-skinned people, but they had no objection to the goal of "bloodbathing the blue-skinned people".

Haha, they keep shouting "glory", but their understanding of "glory" is so distorted. I was right just now, they are really a group of beasts shouting "glory"!

With such a tradition, even without the demon blood, even without himself, even without the Shadow Council, it is only a matter of time before the orcs are on the road to conquering the world and slaughtering the world.

Pooh!
You deserved to die at Diakum's hands.

"Don't try to reason with the Warsong orcs, Gul'dan. They have no more brains than the Blackrock orcs."

A low voice sounded beside Gul'dan. The First Warlock looked back and found that it was the Dragonmaw Chief Zuluhed striding towards him with a whip in his hand.

As a member of the Shadow Council, he had a good relationship with Gul'dan. Seeing the canisters of "spiked" red Scourge tied to the saddles of the two-headed dragons, and his Dragonmaw Sky Knights preparing to take off, he whispered:
"Are you sure this stuff will work?"

"Of course, I mixed it myself, adding some 'blessings' from the sea of stars."

Gul'dan laughed grimly, leaning on his bone staff, and said:

"Our master personally blessed these plague seeds, derived from the spore plague, to make the Red Scourge's outbreak time and health degradation more significant. It was very pleased with the 'gifts' we found and presented to it from Draenor, and declared that it would give these gifts to the enemies of its homeland to taste.

In short, these plagues, endowed with divine power by the Contaminated, will surely render the entire city of Shattrath defenseless within half a month. By then, Blackhand will have secured a glorious victory."

"But will Chieftain Blackhand truly accept such a victory?"

Zuluhed was a little worried.

He whispered:

"Blackhand is a traditional orc warrior, Gul'dan. Like Grom, he is aggressive but also values his own glory. If Grom cannot accept plague weapons, then Blackhand cannot do the same.

I'm just worried we'll get in trouble with Grom Hellscream later!
That arrogant fellow always thinks that relying on the power of the orcs is enough to massacre Draenor, and he believes in the Black Wolf God. From what I've observed, the Slayer seems to prefer pure warriors, and his wolves won't follow us through the plague-stricken city."

"If Grom wants to cause trouble for us, he has to survive first! I don't think Diakum will let him survive. As for the Slayer... Haha, it doesn't trust us and instead instigated Blackhand to appoint many wolf priests. No one knows what that elusive black wolf wants to do.

But since we are not of the same kind, let them cause trouble at the Temple of Karabor."

Gul'dan waved his hand nonchalantly and said:
"Black Hand wanted victory, and I gave him victory, so why is he still not satisfied?

He'll witness the Shadow Council conquer Talador, Frostfire Ridge, and Shadowmoon Valley for him without a single blow! After this plague, most of Draenor will be under the control of the Warchief. Faced with such glory, that conceited fellow will find reasons to convince himself to ignore our dishonorable tactics.

Go ahead, Zuluhed.

Use your dragon riders to drop the seeds of plague that destroy hope from the sky, bring despair to the blueskins in Shattrath City and elsewhere, and use this to say hello to the doomed Draenei clans on behalf of the Defiler.

With this thing, the war tribe will surely win every battle!

It's not even just used to deal with the Draenei. I really don't understand why Orgrim Doomhammer, who is known as the Blackrock Clan's most powerful general, has been in Frostfire Ridge for so long, but hasn't defeated a single Frostwolf Clan?
Hehe, if he needs help, then the Shadow Council is happy to help him win. After all, the red scourge is equally deadly to those brown orcs!"

"Well, Gul'dan, your insidiousness and viciousness always make me admire you."

Zulushid boasted:
"With this victory, no one in the Horde can stop the rise of the Shadow Council. Perhaps it won't be long before we can get rid of that puppet Blackhand and establish our own warlock dynasty.

But you seem to be leaving here, Gul'dan, where are you going? Are you not going to follow us as victors into the ruins of Shattrath?
Or..." Chief Dragonmaw blinked and whispered:
"Does being on the same land with Diakum Zastins make you uncomfortable?"

"Oh, would I be afraid of him?"

Gul'dan cursed stubbornly:
"When that pathetic blue-skinned saint is turned into a hunchbacked, mindless fool by the red scourge, I will use a chain to turn him into a dog crawling at my feet!
As for what I'm going to do?
Zulushid, don't ask questions that you shouldn't ask. You just need to know that I am serving the 'master'.

Don't worry, I established the Shadow Council, and I single-handedly passed on the wisdom of the warlocks to you and me. I will not enjoy the future glory alone. After the master gives the order, you will also follow me on that glorious journey.

The victory of the War Horde is already a foregone conclusion. All I have to do now is to lead them from one victory to another.

Go ahead.

Do your thing.

Remember, once Shattrath falls into chaos, do not hesitate to summon the demons of the Defiler into the city. They hope to get their spoils in Auchindoun, and we cannot let them down.

After saying that, Gul'dan, leaning on his bone staff, limped into a shadow door maintained by several warlocks. Zuluhed could vaguely see that the landing point on the opposite side seemed to be somewhere deep in the Tanaan Jungle.

But that was definitely not the location of Chieftain Blackhand's war fortress.

This Gul'dan.
It seems that he has become mysterious after offering the magic blood to the chief. Even the other high-level warlocks in the Shadow Council don't know what he is doing.

But what is certain is that Gul'dan seems to have shifted his focus away from helping Warchief Blackhand win.

So, what is he doing?
"Chief! The plague jars are ready. We will dispatch sixty two-headed dragons to drop at least two hundred plague jars on Shattrath City, enough to cover most of the city. I will personally lead another team of sky knights to the Temple of Karabor and drop the same deadly substance there.

The other dragon riders each have their own goals. Following Gul'dan's instructions, we will spread these plague spores to the entire world as quickly as possible, including those weak brown-skinned traitors who have defected to the blue-skinned ones!

This must have brought them despair.”

A sturdy Dragonmaw High Warlord came over and reported:

"Your vehicle is ready. Do you want to fly with us and bring despair to the blue-skinned people?"

"No, my boy Mor'ghor."

Zuluhed, holding the whip, smiled and looked back at the powerful and loyal orc commander behind him. He said:

"I will lead you to conquer the skies of Draenor. We, the Dragonmaw Clan, are born to rule the skies, but an old man like me should learn to leave the opportunity to make meritorious deeds to you, the more promising young people.

Go ahead, take off!

Nak'rosh goes to Shattrath, you go to Shadowmoon Valley, and the remaining warlords each take their men to other towns. Let the wings of our dragons cover the last hope of the draenei and avenge the poor and unfortunate Nekros. "

The cunning and shrewd Chief Dragonmaw did not intend to take the risk himself. As a warlock who valued his life, it was better for him to give the opportunity to show up to others.

I have to hide like Gul'dan, don't let the war burn me, and don't let the blood splash on my clothes.

But neither he nor Gul'dan noticed that on the wall near the camp, a nimble and majestic crow was standing there, gracefully combing its feathers and listening to their conversation clearly.

Well, Lord Ansu, the eyes and ears of the Draenor world, may the glory of the "Voyeur" be given to it.

------

"What a beast!"

Diakum leaned on the Ashbringer and glanced at the battle scars on his arm armor.

Even the celestial gold from Argus could not withstand the brute force and battle axe of the mad orc before him.

Although the Sentinels have always known that Orc warriors are quite "magical" beings, and their unique bloodline gives them almost endless combat power enhancement under the reinforcement of endless rage, but when they really face Grom Hellscream, the Sentinels can truly understand the surprise of the Dark Titan when he was chopped by a green bug in the official history.

Anger makes them change qualitatively!

It's like a catalyst thrown into the fuel, making the heat burst faster and more violent.

At the beginning of the battle, Diakum was able to suppress Grom head-on with the perfect power of his legendary rank, but it felt like there was a fiercely burning fire pot under his butt. It was only a matter of time before he would explode in the increasingly fierce resistance.

The Sentinel flexed his fingers to make the holy power burn even more fiercely. He knew that he could not let Grom's "Endless Rage" continue to increase.

Although it sounds a bit outrageous to use the burst of "Sanctified Seraph" to fight a legendary warrior, considering that the opponent is "Roaring Dad" who killed two demigods with an axe, the Sentinel's decision is full of necessary caution.

However, if the Sentinel was just surprised by the enemy's strength and decided to use his ultimate move, the mood of Grom Hellscream on the opposite side could be described as "shocked".

The legendary Draenei garrison commander in front of him, who was like a rock that could not be broken, smashed, chopped or knocked down, was definitely the most dangerous opponent he had ever encountered since he got Gorehowl.

He has used all the tricks he can.

With the fighting talent of the Hellscream family, he was confident that he could kill a Gronn with a single blow to the head when his rage reached this point, but even so, he failed to cause any real "damage" to Diakum.

Old Velen was a demigod, one full level ahead of Grom Hellscream in life rank, but he still believed that he had a great chance of winning, and he did use his own tactics to win himself a chance to behead Old Velen with a headshot.

This proves that Grom has a very accurate vision at the combat level.

The Diakum in front of him was a legendary warrior like him, but he had no way to deal with this guy!

Every attack of mine would be perfectly defended by him, and every kill of mine would be predicted in advance by him and defended with holy light. I cannot reveal even the slightest flaw in this head-on battle.

Grom's scorching warrior instincts told him that if he showed even a hint of weakness, Diakum would chop off his head.

He felt that he was not fighting a clumsy garrison officer. The person standing before him was clearly a swordsman who had honed his skills to perfection.

He leaned on Blood Howl, no longer caring about the carbonized wounds inflicted by the Ashbringer, nor the burns from the scorching sun of Diakum. The pain inflicted still gave him strength, and the war blessing from the wolf spirit allowed him to transform all the rage that exceeded his limits into destructive power.

It was like the last lock of rationality that restricted the warrior was opened, allowing him to discard all unnecessary emotions and bet everything on pure fighting.

He was panting.

His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the Draenei saint in front of him. When he saw the white holy flame on Diakum's body recede from his rolling and impacting posture and recycle into his body, he knew that this short but unforgettable battle, which even made him regain his doubts, was coming to an end.

Diakum is going to use his most powerful trick to get rid of himself!
This is exactly what I want!

"No wonder Gul'dan fears you so much. He should! That coward must have run away when he saw you coming back. How could the pathetic warlock dare to look directly into the flames that could incinerate the soul?
But I'm curious, why would your city open its shield when there are no external enemies?"

Grom reached out and grabbed his tattered chieftain's armor, tore it apart and threw it away, then raised his naked body and raised the blood roar that was buzzing and roaring.

He glanced at the city of Shattrath behind Diakum. After Velen returned to the city, the golden shield was activated, as if it was guarding against something.

The Sentinel took a look at the character card at this time and did not see the prompt "The moment of destiny has come", which made him relieved. His timely return avoided a tragedy shaped by fate in Shattrath City.

In response to Grom's question, Diakum said:

"You will see the answer with your own eyes. You will see how the so-called 'honor' you pursued even if you fell into the state of half-demon is wantonly trampled upon by your 'comrades'. Then you will know what a disgusting organization you have joined. You will see the cruel truth!

When you drank that cup of devil's blood, you had already lost anything that could be called 'glory'.

For a person like you who is as stubborn as a rock, you will never turn back unless you see the truth with your own eyes. As an apology for interrupting you and Mak'gora of Velen, I will let you see how the war tribe tramples on your honor.
I'll give you another pleasure!"

Grom obviously did not believe the Draenei saint's tricks in front of him. He regarded battle and victory as glory, and now he was trying his best to obtain them.

The black wolf tattoos on his arms were lit up by angry blood. After confirming that he could not defeat the Sentinel even if he tried his best under normal circumstances, Hellscream decided to "sacrifice" himself to the war.

That is the most glorious blessing bestowed upon the Demon-Blooded Orcs by the Slayer.

It does not provide any additional destructive power bonus, nor does it provide any improvement in powerful abilities. After obtaining this black wolf tattoo, the orcs can burn their own vitality, will and determination to the end in exchange for combat power that breaks through the limit in a short period of time.

Blackhand gave the tattoo a nice name, he called it "Death Wish".

Ha, only true warriors who love pure combat and enjoy combat dare to use such power. This is also the best gift that the Slayer has given to the orcs.

For a warrior like Grom, this was the only gift he was willing to accept from the Black Wolf. He disdained to ask for other blessings from the Wolf Priests who had recently been appointed by Chieftain Blackhand.

He already had the power, and what remained of what he wanted, he could take back with his own hands and his battle axe.

"Holy light!"

At Diakum's call, the beam wings ignited by the holy flames covered him with pure holy armor, turning him into a seraph of punishment. The moment he swung his hands and pulled out the flaming blade, Grom, who finally learned the truth, laughed heartily and without any hesitation, poured everything he had into the war that was heading towards death.

No wonder there has been no news from that coward Old Dal, and no wonder the Burning Blade Clan no longer participates in Blackhand's war of conquest.

The most powerful orc swordmaster ever born on the land of Draenor has died at the hands of this foreign war leader. Diak'um replaced Old Dale TripleBloodblade as the pinnacle of all warrior skills.

He has long proven the value of a vigilante.

How is it possible to defeat such a strong man without paying something?

A victory brilliant enough to engrave on the soul and shining enough to comfort death has never been so cheap!

"Come! Come!!! This is the battle I want! This is the glory I long for! Come! Send me to the other side, or fall before my eyes!"

Hellscream laughed wildly.

In the blazing explosion of the black wolf tattoo, his rage instantly burned to the point of breaking through the shackles.

When the rage of the red flames burned into a giant wolf's head and turned into the roar of a devil, he embraced death for victory, crushed the earth, and dragged his battle axe towards the Seraphim Diakum who was bringing a wave of sunlight in front of him.

Whether they were orcs or draenei, whether they were the god Ansu watching the battlefield from high in the sky, or the exotic ravens flying high above the clouds, everyone's attention was drawn to this head-on fight.

But they don’t see the results.

All that could be seen was the white light covering and impacting the earth in an explosive manner, as if a nuclear bomb of holy light had exploded at this moment. A ball of red flame was burning tenaciously in the stream of light, and only the collision and roar of weapons represented the absolutely deadly fight.

Just when everything was dead silent, the air knights of the Dragonmaw Clan appeared above the clouds.

Led by Warlord Nak'rosh, they were about to launch an "air plague tank" attack on Shattrath City, but as soon as the attack landed, the Warlord was dumbfounded. Why did the defensive barrier of Shattrath City suddenly rise?

It was clearly shown in the previous tactical tug-of-war that this thing can even block the Hellfire thrown by the Warlock. Will it really be useful to throw the Plague Jar down?

"Overseer! What do we do now? The blueskins have raised the city barrier!"

An air trooper stepped forward to ask, and Nak'rosh glared at him.

Are you fucking asking me?
How do I know what to do?
The chief has never told me what to do in this situation before. Do you think I can come up with a good solution?

But in this situation, there is no point in throwing the jar away.

The Overseer narrowed his eyes, then noticed the Mak'gora still going on outside the city. After some astonishing thinking with his muscles, he immediately came up with a plan and shouted to the others:
"Change the target. Leave one team behind to attack the hateful blue-skinned saint with plague jars! He's also a Draenei, so this plague will work on him too! Grom Hellscream won't be infected if he drinks blood.

Ha, I'll give him a glorious victory.

The rest of the people go to Auchindoun or other Draenei gathering areas to throw away the plague canisters! The blue skins have always been united, they will not abandon their own people.

Hey, I'm so smart.

I think I can become a warlock, and the chief and the great chief will surely reward us for it!"

(End of this chapter)