Although the opponent was wearing strange full-body armor, his body shape could still be recognized. Orgrim jumped up from the ground, picked up the hammer on the side and started to hit the person.
But this human being was obviously stronger and faster than Lothar, whom he had fought before. He just stretched out his hand and pinched his shoulder, and Orgrim lost all his strength and fell limply aside.
Drek'Thar wanted to cast a spell, but the human who was by the door just now appeared behind him like a ghost, covered his mouth with his hand, and put a dagger on the wrinkled neck.
"Don't move. I'm here to negotiate terms with you, but if you don't know how to praise me, I can also exterminate your race."
"Come on! Do it! lok'tar ogar!" Half of Orgrim's body was numb, struggling and squirming on the ground, shouting loudly.
However, human beings let out chirping laughter, this kind of laughter, like that of demons.
"Haha, Orgrim, you are so brave and resourceful." The human took out a roll of strange stuff from somewhere, tore out a piece of cloth, and put it on the prophet's mouth: "You are shouting like this now because you hope
The subordinates or frost wolves outside heard the news and came to rescue them, but you don’t think I didn’t expect this, right?”
"What did you do to them?!"
The chief's eyes were red, and spittle spurted out from his big mouth, which looked like a spray humidifier when illuminated by the bonfire.
"There are more than 500 people, plus more than 400 wolves. I ask them all to sleep for a while. There is no danger to their lives." The human clapped his hands and sat next to the fire, picking up the sticks to stir up the firewood: "But what if
If you don’t plan to listen to me, the result will be uncertain.”
The two orcs who had lost their fighting ability looked at each other. The shaman whose mouth was sealed with tape could not speak and just kept shaking his head.
Orgrim was silent, thinking. After a few seconds, he spoke with difficulty:
"Who are you exactly? Why do you speak our language?"
"Don't you remember me? Chief Orgrim, think about who defeated Medivh possessed by Sargeras in front of the Dark Portal fifteen years ago? And who let you go?" Su Ming
He removed his visor and revealed his face.
The orcs were stunned, and they did remember this powerful human being. Although Medivh was in a very wrong state at the time, the power of this human being was still vivid in his mind.
"It's you." The chief no longer had any intention of getting the hammer. He just leaned against the tent wall in a daze: "You haven't aged at all, and you are even stronger."
"Things like age are meaningless to me." Su Ming took out a bottle of wine from his pocket and threw it to him across the fire: "I went to Draenor not long ago to bring Nezul
Al and his younger brothers were all killed, as well as Archimonde of the Burning Legion. I came here today to ask you if you are willing to return to your homeland? By the way, the Draenei have also left.
They are willing to return all the land to you, but in the future, you need to return the bones of the Draenei ancestors in the Auchenai Cemetery."
"What? Really?"
Orgrim's face showed complex expressions, including surprise, joy, and disbelief.
"No one really thinks that the Burning Legion is invincible, right? No?" Deathstroke smiled, took out a bottle of wine, opened it, suddenly tore off the tape on the Prophet's mouth, and gave the bottle to him: "Anyway, I just
Ask once, are you willing to go back?"
The orc's Adam's apple slid up and down, and there was silence for a while before anyone spoke.
"What conditions do you have?" Drek'Thar's beard was torn off near his mouth, but the tears in his eyes were probably not painful, but excited.
But he still retains his sanity and shamanic wisdom.
Su Ming raised three fingers, waved them in the firelight, and took a sip of wine: "Three conditions: no more invasion of Azeroth. In the future, we can only conduct commercial trade with Wilson Enterprises, and let Varok Saurfang
Become a warchief."
Although some people are confused about where the humans know the news about their deputy, this condition is not too harsh. After all, the tribe has been defeated and it is impossible not to pay a price.
"I agree! But there are more of our compatriots imprisoned in the asylum. I have to take them home. The demon's blood no longer affects us as time goes by. They can be saved."
Orgrim approached the fire and imitated the death knell and unscrewed the wine bottle, his eyes filled with light.
"No problem, but they have killed many people. You need to come up with something to buy their lives and compensate the families of the deceased." Deathstroke also agreed and took out a piece of paper with a price list written in the orc language.
: "My Wilson Enterprise will act as a secret middleman to buy back your people from the Kingdom of Lordaeron. Gold, animal skins, timber, and ores can all be traded."
With that said, he handed the quotation to the prophet next to him and asked him to read the contents.
Why pay for the lives of the families of the war victims? It's just a pretense for doing business. Su Mingcai didn't bother to keep statistics on whose family died. These materials would still fall into his own hands, and he would take back 40K Earth for infrastructure construction or further processing and then trade.
So the quotation is almost the same across the board.
An orc child needs to exchange for five pieces of fur that can cover his body size; an orc woman needs to exchange for a piece of fine gold or black iron or real iron ore of a similar size to herself; an orc warrior needs to exchange his own weight of krypton.
gold in exchange.
Of course, if you don't have any ore, you can exchange it for something else. Anyway, there will be dedicated personnel to handle it.
This offer is neither expensive nor cheap. After the orcs return to Draenor, they have plenty of resources.
As long as the uncorrupted Mag'har orcs continue to work together, they should be able to exchange all the captives in a few years.
The prophet passed the paper with trembling hands and turned it over to look at it. There was nothing deceptive on it. This transaction was very fair. At least it was a good deal for warriors. Didn't it just require stones?
He nodded to the chief and handed over the piece of paper, indicating that he thought he could agree to it.
Orgrim only took a cursory glance and nodded with a smile. He did not expect that there were such fair and powerful people among humans. His impression of Deathstroke greatly improved.
To be precise, I was overjoyed when I learned that I could get Draenor back, let alone defeat the Burning Legion.
Naturally, the Legion has not been wiped out, so if the orcs want to live in the future, they may have to rely on the Wilson Enterprise that Deathstroke mentioned.
But the other party only requires trade, and unlike the Burning Legion, which requires souls, this is of course no problem.
If there is any sacrifice, it is that Orgrim needs to give up his position as warchief, but Saurfang is also a member of the Blackstone clan, and he is also his favorite deputy. This is equal to the left hand over the right hand, and even counts
There are no stringent conditions.
"Thank you, human warrior, your heart is full of honor and mercy. On behalf of the tribe, I agree to your terms."
The orc chief stretched out his big hand and lowered his head sincerely.
Su Ming stretched out his hand and held the opponent's elbow, feeling that the big hand had done the same thing. This was the contract between the orcs. A warrior would never regret what he said.
"Okay, I can advance some money to help you replace Thrall's 'Second Generation Chiefs'. My fleet is already on standby in the orbit of Azeroth. They will send you back to Draenor, but if you break the contract
, believe me, if I am angry, I will be much more terrifying than Sargeras..."