In the shining morning light of Mount Hyjal, there was deathly silence on the tragic battlefield. The demons who lost their leader were finally completely repelled by the night elves who paid a heavy price. What greeted them was the coalition forces of Felwood and Hyjal.
The angry elves of the mountain joined forces to strangle him.
But on this golden battlefield, the young people of the tribe felt lost.
In this dawn, their fathers left with the glory of atonement, and the arms that had been shielding them from the wind and rain disappeared. Next, it was up to these young people who still seemed very immature to welcome the storm from the world.
Are they really ready?
No one knows...
Thrall stood with difficulty in the dawn light. He closed his eyes and breathed in the air full of gunpowder smoke. In front of him, Garrosh and Dranosh were supporting each other, and Vol'jin was leaning on the war blade.
, and the gloomy-looking Yolin, these young people came to him silently.
No one spoke...no one wanted to speak at this time.
A few minutes later, Thrall opened his eyes. He looked down at the Doomhammer lying on the stone behind him. The warm sunlight reflected a beautiful halo on the surface of the black warhammer, and the large hammer next to it reflected a beautiful halo.
On the ground, a set of simple black plate armor full of battle scars was stacked there. It was the armor of Warchief Orgrim, which he had personally crafted in the world of Draenor.
Like the Doomhammer, this black plate armor is also his symbol.
"They asked me to take over the position of warchief..."
Sal said to the friends in front of him:
"But I don't know...should I take it."
Garrosh, who was carrying the Gorehowl battle ax, glanced at Thrall. He stepped forward, held the black plate armor on the ground in his hands, then walked up to Thrall and handed the plate armor to him.
"Put it on, Sal!"
Garrosh stared at the orc in front of him, who was smaller than himself, and said in a deep voice:
"The elves will not just give up... Their demigod is dead, and their archdruid is missing. Although it has nothing to do with us, they will not let go so easily. The tribe needs a voice!"
Dranosh and Yolin also stepped forward. Vol'jin hesitated for a moment and then took a step forward. The three young men looked at Thrall, and Yolin was the first to lean towards Thrall slightly.
"My wise brother, if you lead, I will obey..."
Thrall looked at Dranosh again. The silent orc smashed his fist on his chest. This action represented everything. Vol'jin, the young troll who represented the Darkspear clan, looked at
Thrall, after staring for more than ten seconds, Wo'jin lowered his head slightly and said in ancient troll language:
"Death...has chosen you, Warchief."
"Fur..."
Thrall took a deep breath, opened his arms, and allowed several young men to put the heavy armor on him. In the shining light of dawn, Thrall, wearing black plate armor, stretched out his right hand and put the heavy armor on him.
He held the hammer of destruction in his hand. At this moment, the power of the elements flashed on his body. A blue lightning danced on the hammer, and then changed into red flames, faint blue water, and earthy yellow.
of land.
Thrall moved his wrist and looked at the night elves who were beginning to gather in the distance. He turned back to the brothers behind him and said:
"Then carry our spoils and carry our glory!"
"Let's go meet them!"
"In the name of...the tribe!"
On the other side, the night elves' legions were already exhausted after a night of hard fighting. The elf soldiers who retreated from the battlefield supported each other and returned to the camp. They looked around and saw that many of their compatriots who had fought against the demons together had not returned.
, and on the branches of the World Tree in the distance, the frequency of the elf flashing was several times thicker than before.
It represents that the souls of the warriors who died in battle have returned to the World Tree. During the cycle of life and death presided over by the World Tree, these souls of those who died in battle will return to the night elves' civilization in another form.
Surrounded by the priests of the Moon Temple, the tired High Priestess of the Moon, Ms. Tyrande, rode on her Frostsaber. She led an army towards the battlefield. Beside her, Sandy
General Si Yuyue frowned and said to his mother:
"Mother, the half-death of the orcs and the demigods and the disappearance of my father have nothing to do with each other... I have told you many times, and I can prove their innocence."
"I know, Shandris."
Tyrande glanced at her haggard daughter, and she sighed:
"My poor child, you don't understand this. The orcs may be innocent, but to our kind, the truth doesn't mean everything... We need to start solving the problems between the orcs and the Kaldorei, not just
Because of Cenarius or Malfurion, and your problem, Shandris."
"I believe that you privately contacted the Human Empire and the Orc tribe to rescue Mount Hyjal out of loyalty, but many high-ranking priests in the Temple of the Moon don't think so... My daughter, you are a little too much in this matter.
That’s reckless.”
"Then let them come!"
A trace of determination and haze flashed across Shandis's face:
"I have already guessed the ugly faces of those people, and I have already made preparations... If it weren't for you, mother, I should have killed them all..."
"That's enough! Shandris!"
Tyrande's expression changed drastically, and she scolded:
"The sharp blade in your hand is used to protect the people, not to provoke conflicts! It seems that I have let you go too much. Forget that terrible idea and never remember it again! The Sentinel Corps cannot participate in the ideological disputes at the top.
This will directly cause division among the people!"
"Trust is not everything! Mother!"
General Shandis did not obey his mother this time. She retorted:
"You cannot govern a country with faith. Open your eyes and see, mother, the world is in the midst of great changes. Every civilization is adapting to the changes of the times. Only we...only we are still blinded by faith.
, Faith unites our people, but it also makes them lazy and degenerate. We also need to accept new thinking, mother... We have to catch up, otherwise we will be eliminated by this era! We will be punished by this change!"
"You have too much contact with the outside world, Shandris!"
The adopted daughter's retort made Ms. Tyrande, who was already in a bad mood, furious. She looked at her daughter and said in a deep voice:
"You need to stay in Mount Hyjal for a while until you are inspired by the Moon God to return..."
"The Moon God no longer responds to our prayers! Mother, how long will you continue to deceive yourself!"
Tyrande's attitude made General Shandris, who was already in a bad state of mind, completely explode. She grabbed her mother's wrist and shouted loudly:
"Hasn't this war made you sober up? The Moon God has been extremely disappointed with the Kaldorei's complacency. Look at our soldiers, look at our people, mother! The Moon God has turned his gaze away from us.
It’s open!”
"Shut up!"
"Pa"
A loud slap hit Shandis on the face, causing General Yuyue's rebuttal to be suddenly interrupted at this moment. Shandis looked at her mother blankly, and Tyrande's chest was rising and falling, and she was also a little agitated.
She looked at her waving hand blankly, she shouldn't have done this.
She has never done this...
If the High Priest of the Moon was only heartbroken because of his daughter's rebuttal before, then he was completely angry at this moment. Regarding the fact that the Moon God Elune no longer responded to the elves' prayers, this was the top secret in the Moon Temple. Now it has been
Shandris shouted it out in public, which was like detonating a bomb directly on the battlefield.
Several Luna Priests quickly stepped forward and escorted the lost Shandris Yuyue away. Ms. Tyrande looked at her daughter's lonely back, and her heart tightened at this moment.
But as the religious leader's will quickly returned, the high priest quickly adjusted her emotions. She said to the nervous priests next to her:
"Sealing this news... we cannot allow the people to hear any more bad news at this moment."
Several high-ranking priests took the order to leave, while the high priest continued to lead the army towards the battlefield, but when they reached the edge of the battlefield, screams of surprise kept ringing in the elves' ranks, Tyrande
When he raised his head, he saw two young orcs walking out of the battlefield carrying a huge head. That ferocious head was the head of Maronos, the destroyer who commanded the demons.
These orcs actually did it... They killed a big demon with their mortal bodies... It's unimaginable.
Garrosh and Dranosh were carrying the head of Malonos. Although they were seriously injured, at this moment, the young people raised their chests. Wherever the demon's head touched, the night elves rushed
Looking at them with astonishment and respect, fearing the strong and fearing the glory, these are the common emotions of all civilized races.
Before the meaning of the demon's head, High Priest Tyrande also hesitated. She stretched out her hand and signaled the army to stop where they were. Under the protection of several guards, the High Priest pulled the reins and let the Frost Saber carry her.
Stepping forward, she looked at Thrall, Jolin, and Vol'jin who were walking in front of the head. The religious leader of the night elves said in a calm voice:
"Orcs, where is your great chief? I have something to ask him."
Yolin and Vol'jin looked at the powerful night elf lady in front of them. They looked at each other and then moved a step to both sides. Thrall, who was wearing black plate armor and holding the Hammer of Destruction, took a step forward.
Blue eyes looked at the night elf high priest in front of him, and he said softly:
"Ms. Tyrande..."
"Tribe, listen to your voice..."
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Three days later, Orgrimmar City's Wisdom Valley, which is the highest mountain in the city, can overlook the entire Orgrimmar, as well as the red land of Durotar, and the sea in the distance.
Varian Wrynn, dressed in casual clothes and with his wife, was standing in front of a circle of stone monuments at the end of the Valley of Wisdom. This time, the king of the Stormwind Kingdom came in a private capacity to mourn the tribal chiefs who died in the war.
Although privately speaking, the deep hatred between Varian and the orcs is difficult to eliminate. His father died at the hands of the orc assassins, and his country was also invaded by the orcs, but that was the blood debt of the old tribe, and now
, those enemies are already lying in the graves in front of him.
As a warrior, he could not deny the glorious death of the old chiefs of the tribe. The honor of being a warrior made him come here to pay his respects to these heroes. Of course, this was just a matter of time.
One of the purposes of Ryan's trip is that the war between Ashenvale and Felwood has entered its final strangulation period. The scattered demons are not a threat at all, but considering the considerable number of demons, this war is far from the final stage.
The end is still a long way off.
Varian came to Orgrimmar for another reason: to promote the alliance agreement signed between the orcs and humans, especially after the orcs had a new warchief and a new ruling system, they wanted to continue this agreement.
It became urgent to wait.
The cemetery in front of Varian has a strong orcish style. There are only a few simple stone tablets, which are engraved with the lives of the heroes lying here. In front of the stone tablet, there is a ferocious skull, which is the horse's skull.
The bones of Ronos are placed here as a memorial to the glory of the heroes.
Varian stared at the stone tablet in front of him. He seemed to see the scene when these orcs were fighting the terrifying Abyss Lord. He saw their blood-soaked will but unwillingness to give up. This made him couldn't help but reach out his hand.
, holding his wife’s finger, he whispered to Valeela standing beside him:
"Lying here are real heroes. Hatred cannot erase this. Their fight is what I long for, and the glory they have won for themselves also makes me feel envious."
"Our ancestors won our freedom with their blood and sacrifice... They are called heroes, which is a veritable praise. Compared with them, the courage we have is simply not worth mentioning."
A deep voice sounded behind Varian. The king turned around and saw Thrall coming alone. This young orc was wearing black plate armor. The ferocious scars on the armor made him look more like a
A warrior, not a shaman.
The moment he saw Thrall, a smile flashed in Varian's eyes. He pointed at the skull in front of him and said to Thrall:
"I also have this thing. Although it's not as big as yours, it's still a good collection. I was still thinking about what to do with it before, but now it seems that maybe I can make the devil's head into a sculpture or a throne.
, it should be a good choice.”
Thrall blinked and shrugged:
"About the bet between you and Kane, I heard that Kane lost in the end... He was very unconvinced. The old cow has been very irritable these days. He has been emphasizing the reason why he lost to you.
, it’s because you have the advantage of weapons, he said it’s impossible to win with force!”
"But he still lost..."
Varian smiled:
"So, when is he going to come to New Stormwind City to sign the agreement? I can't wait."
"That's the problem between you and Kane. The tauren are allies of the orcs, but we don't interfere in the choice of our companions... Speaking of which, this shouldn't be the only reason you came here this time, right?"
Thrall looked at Varian and said:
"Is there something important?"
Varian nodded, and he wiped his wife's slender waist. The latter nodded, turned around and stepped into the shadows, leaving the space for conversation between his husband and the orc warchief, when there were only two of them.
, the human king lowered his voice and said to Thrall: