Make Azeroth breathtaking

"In that war ten thousand years ago, Broxigar demonstrated an astonishing familiarity with demons, a familiarity forged through countless battles—our nemesis is returning, Tyrande."

—————————————————Ratchet Island——————————————————————

"So that's why, even though there are many forests next to the Barrens, we still have to import timber from the Eastern Kingdoms! Although the Night Elves also need timber, they deeply resent other races cutting down trees in their territory. Money and negotiations can't solve the problem! They simply won't allow other races to cut down trees in those forests!"

Tanis rubbed her forehead, looking at Sal helplessly.

"Will Brox be in danger?"

"If he doesn't recklessly start a war with the night elves, no, the night elves aren't particularly bloodthirsty; they usually just expel them from the country. But if they start a war... Warchief Thrall, most of the men Broxigar brought might die. In the forest, the night elves' fighting power far exceeds what ordinary people imagine."

"Excuse me, I'll be there for a moment."

Having learned of this important information, Thrall dared not delay. He immediately went to the side and used shamanic magic to contact the shaman accompanying Brox's army. A few seconds later, his expression turned strange.

"Great Chieftain, should I lead the Warsong Clan to that forest and rescue Broxigar?"

Upon learning that Brox might be in danger, Grom was half worried and half eager to fight—he hadn't fought a worthy opponent in a long time and felt incredibly empty inside.

"No, Grom, Broxie has completed his mission perfectly and is returning to Durotar with enough timber."

"This doesn't make sense! Why would the night elves just watch your people cut down trees? Your tribe needs a huge amount of timber, and you have high requirements for the quality of the wood itself. No matter how you look at it, the night elves should be stopping you."

Tennyson's eyes turned into two question marks.

"According to the shaman accompanying the army, the timber suddenly grew near the camp and then fell down to become the building materials we needed."

After saying this, Sal spread his hands.

"In short, he didn't know what happened either."

44. Ominous Clouds

Durotar.

Within the outline drawn by wooden stakes, stones, and other objects, strong male orcs, their faces beaming, carried various supplies back and forth, or used simple tools to further process basic materials such as wood and stone. The weaker female orcs were busy processing the hunters' prey, skinning them, and then cutting the edible meat into pieces and throwing them into a pot to stew with wild vegetables and fruits. Children ran and laughed around the camp, occasionally forced to help with serious faces at their parents' scolding.

When Broxigar and his troops appeared on the horizon, leading a long, seemingly endless caravan of timber, the entire tribe erupted in thunderous cheers. Some orc men who weren't doing their work put down their loads and went to meet the caravan.

"This is my tribe, Princess Proudmoore. What do you think?"

On a nearby hill, Thrall looked toward Jaina, who had come to visit his new home at his invitation, with the Tinkers of Ratchet as her bodyguards.

“You...and your tribe are very different from the orcs I’ve seen before. They only know how to kill and destroy.”

Jaina was silent for a few seconds before answering.

"That is a curse, a curse that binds us orcs. We came to this land to kill the demon who infused this curse into our orc bloodline and to rediscover the true faith that belongs to us orcs."

"The demons unleashed the Scourge, destroying Lordaeron and flattening Dalaran. We have a common enemy, Warchief Thrall."

“I believe this is why the prophet led you and me to this land, Princess Proudmore.”

Thrall smiled and patted his hand. He could tell that Jaina was willing to coexist peacefully with the Horde, at least until the demonic legions were destroyed—the Horde desperately needed time to recover.

"Warchief Thrall, just call me Jaina."

—————————————Barracks——————————————————————

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!!!"

The howl of Bloodhowl echoed in the air as Grom Hellscream furiously brandished his weapon, imagining countless enemies before him, and himself fighting a bloody battle!

As the chieftain of the Warsong Clan, Grom Hellscream was among the most warlike of the orcs even before he drank the demon blood. Therefore, although he knew that Thrall's decisions to sign peace agreements with humans as much as possible and to temporarily refrain from logging were beneficial to the Horde, the emptiness burning deep within him made him want to lead the Warsong Clan out of the camp and kill all the humans who had not yet settled down after learning that a large number of humans had landed on this land.

However, Grom knew very well that this burning void was no good. It was the curse he left on the orcs after leading the drinking of the demon blood. It was the evil root that turned them from a noble race into bloodthirsty beasts. The most important reason why Thrall kept him by his side to serve as his bodyguard for the time being was that both Thrall and he knew that they were on the verge of losing control!

"what!!!!!!!!"

A Blood Howl cleaved a log in two, and Grom let out a battle cry like a wounded beast—he craved battle, blood, and slaughter, but the Horde wouldn't give him that opportunity anytime soon!

Just as Grom felt the emptiness deep inside him dissipate a little and was about to go out to see if there was anything he needed to do, an orc messenger walked in from outside the training ground and knelt down in front of him.

"Chief Grom, High Chieftain Thrall requests that you lead an elite force to investigate a mountain range where our enemies are said to roam."

This order made Grom frown slightly. Thrall had actually entrusted him with a mission alone? This was illogical, and he also knew very well that if the orcs and humans had signed a temporary peace treaty, aside from the harpies or centaurs who weren't even considered normal races, he really didn't know what other enemies the Horde could have.

Just as Grom was about to ask again, a strange feeling enveloped his soul, and the rage deep within him suddenly took over, suppressing all his questions.

'Ha! I'll solve this beautifully.'

Grom slung Gorehowl on his back and strode out of the training ground to assemble his troops. In less than half an hour, he led a wolf rider force away from the still-under-construction orc city amidst billowing dust.

When Thrall discovered Grom was missing, three hours had already passed.

"What's going on? Why did Grom leave with a unit of wolf riders? I didn't issue any orders at all!"

Thrall was furious when he learned of Grom's actions from an orc officer in charge of military deployment.

"No, Chieftain, Chieftain Hellscream brought the warrant; it's your handwriting."

The officer, who belonged to the Warsong Clan, walked to the table, took out a note, and Thrall took the note and glanced at it, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The messy handwriting on the note was exactly the same as his usual handwriting style! Moreover, even the way he used words was exactly the same!

"I am certain that I did not write this note, and this note has a feeling that makes me very uncomfortable."

Sal spoke in a low voice.

"May I see this note, Warchief Thrall?"

Jaina, who was accompanying Thrall on the tour, suddenly spoke up.

"can."

Thrall handed the note to Jaina, who carefully examined it for a while before whispering an incantation. As the arcane light spread, tiny green lights illuminated the paper.

"This is?"

"This is fel energy, the power that demons love to use. Clearly, your people have been lured away by demons through trickery."

"A demon is lurking in my tribe? Jaina, do you have a way to find it?"

“It’s difficult. Although I’ve learned some divination spells, I’m not proficient in this kind of thing. However, Thrall, in my opinion, your most urgent task right now is not to go to great lengths to find a demon that is extremely difficult to find and who may still be hiding in your tribe, but to stop Grom from coming back! The demon must have a huge conspiracy to take Grom out of here in such a big way.”

“You’re right, Jaina.”

Thrall slung the Doomhammer over his shoulder.

“We must set off immediately and stop Grom.”

45. Manolos's Ambition

Meanwhile, in Ratchet, in Tannis's laboratory.

"Like this...like this...maybe it should be like this?"

Tanis bit her pen, frowning as she pondered the restoration of a detail of the G0 Warlord. She had already completed about 80% of the restoration, but the last 20% was extremely difficult.

Suddenly, the sound of birds flapping their wings reached her ears. Tanis turned around and found that a crow had flown into her laboratory at some point and was staring at her in a very human-like manner.

"who are you?"

Using her engineering glasses, Tennys quickly realized that the crow wasn't a real crow, and that the crow's form had already begun to change the moment Tennys spoke.

"Ugh..."

As the raven gradually transformed into human form, fragments of memory in Tannis's mind began to stir again—extremely so. Some images were violently released and merged into her mind, some blurry, some clear.

"King Menethil ignored your warnings and thus his kingdom was destroyed; Dalaran ignored your warnings and its city was almost reduced to ruins; Thrall heeded your warnings and set foot on this continent; and Jaina heeded your warnings and led the human forces to strive to save Azeroth... So, what warning do you have for me, Blood Prophet—or should I call you by another name, the Last Guardian, the Redeemer, Medivh?"

"It seems that in some ways you are the true prophet... Miss Tanis..."

Having his identity exposed, Medivh leaned on the Guardian's Staff and spoke calmly.

"No, no, no, I can't be a prophet! Much of what I know is from the past. If I could perfectly know the future, I would have made a fortune using it long ago!"

"The task of a prophet is not merely to predict the future, Miss Tanis. Moreover, the future is never static; a single word, an event, or a single person can lead it into the unknown."

"So, what you told Thrall and Jaina in such a mystical way wasn't a prophecy, but something that was definitely going to happen, and you did it so they could prepare for it, right?"

"That's right, the return of the Burning Legion is a foregone conclusion, and if they win, the entire world will be reduced to nothing."

"If war breaks out in Kalimdor, then Ratchet will inevitably be drawn into the conflict, no matter what. So, Guardian, what brings you here to see me?"

"Thrall and Jaina are working together to hunt down Grom Hellscream, the chieftain of the Warsong Clan. He has been lured into a trap by a demon, and Thrall and Jaina are unaware of just how formidable their adversary is."

"You want me to participate in this interception?"

Tennys frowned slightly.

nod.

"I will go, but regarding the compensation..."

As she said this, Tannis approached Medivh with a sly smile, clearly intending to use Medivh's equipment as a deposit.

"I have no money, and the equipment I'm wearing is beyond your means."

Medivh's response silenced Tannis's words, and he transformed back into a raven and flew out the skylight, leaving Tannis alone, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth.

"McDivine, you actually made me work for free? Fine, I'll remember you..."

After venting her frustrations for a while, Tanis turned around and began preparing her weapons and equipment. Although she was unhappy about being forced to work for free, she knew very well that someone like Medivh never spoke without reason. If she didn't go, who knew what the final outcome would be?

——————————————Barren Land——————————————————————

"Grom and the others have headed west, Great Chieftain. They passed through here about four hours ago—if we don't speed up our march, we'll fall further and further behind, Great Chieftain."

An orc skilled in tracking traces carefully observed the marks on the ground and came to a conclusion.

"How long can our supplies last if we march at full speed?"

"If nothing unexpected happens, eating only dry rations can last for a week at most, while at a normal marching speed, it can last for more than ten days."

"Assuming we want to catch up with Grom's forces, how fast would we need to go?"

"We must maintain a rapid march in order to have any chance of catching up."

After carefully calculating in his mind, the orc told Thrall and Jaina his conclusion.