In the war conference room of Storm Barrier, facing the sand table of Draenor world, the atmosphere became subtle.
Ner'zhul's matter has not been resolved yet. No one is Ner'zhul's opponent, not even Medivh. If they fight the Iron Horde, everyone will die.
But this is no reason to refuse.
Varian looked pale, Khadgar was thoughtful, and Maraad continued to talk.
"The next thing I want to talk about is the chief of the Bloodring Clan, Kilrogg Deadeye. As we all know, Prophet Velen is good at prophecies, and economic management has never played any role. Compared with Kilrogg Deadeye's prophecy
In terms of ability, Prophet Velen is a waste, and the prophecies of the Holy Light are nothing in front of the orcs."
Maraad's tone was dull and depressing, with unending fear:
"The Bloodring Clan has an ancient mysterious tradition. They can predict their own death by sacrificing their left eye. Except for the destined death, they are invincible and immortal. Even Sargeras cannot kill them. Kilro
Ge can also predict the future, and they know how to defeat the enemy correctly and achieve final victory. In front of Kilrogg, our plan is meaningless and can be easily seen through, and what awaits us must be a trap."
Khadgar frowned secretly and asked suspiciously:
"The prophecy ability is extremely mysterious. I once took a peek, but unfortunately I couldn't see anything. Can orcs understand prophecy? What evidence do you have?"
"My evidence is very sufficient. It was a tragedy that I personally experienced."
Maraad almost shouted, then sighed:
"I participated in the battle to defend Shattrath City. The orcs were coming fiercely, and Prophet Velen resisted passively. We all knew that Shattrath City was destined to fall. Before the orcs encircled me, I arranged seven escape routes for refugees, all of which were extremely secretive ways.
, it’s impossible for the orcs to know everything, so in order to keep it secret, I didn’t tell anyone except the prophet Velen.”
Maraad lowered his head in pain: "But I failed. All the refugees were killed by the ambushing orcs of the Bloodring Clan. They knew everything. Apart from the prophecy, I couldn't find any reason."
Listening to Maraad recount the tragedies of the past, Khadgar took a breath:
"Now I understand a little bit why the Draenei were almost annihilated by the orcs. Such a terrible enemy, if Garrosh's arms are added, who can defeat them."
Varian rejoiced: "This is a wrong war. As long as we refuse to open the Dark Portal, they will not be able to get through."
Kadegao suppressed his inner uneasiness and said in a suppressed voice: "No, we must open the door of darkness and face the Iron Tribe."
Varian looked at Khadgar in confusion: "Are you crazy? We will all die."
"Humans will die." Khadgar's attitude was extremely resolute: "We must face death and let the Kingdom of Stormwind finally bloom with glory. The torch of human civilization will be extinguished in your hands."
Varian clenched his fists tightly: "I don't understand the meaning of such a sacrifice."
Khadgar said fiercely: "Your Majesty the King, you don't have to think of your own, you just need to remember that this is what Medivh meant."
Varian smiled bitterly and said: "Because of Medivh, we all have to die."
Khadgar nodded:
"Yes, Medivh's will is higher than everything else, higher than the safety of the Kingdom of Stormwind, higher than the continuation of human civilization, higher than the entire Azeroth. Compared with the great Medivh, human beings are nothing. The only one that humankind has ever continued to this day.
The purpose is for the great Medivh."
Varian's chest was extremely depressed, as if a mountain was pressing down on him. His breathing became increasingly difficult and he was unable to make a sound.
Khadgar said coldly: "Varian, you are not the only choice. There are countless people who are willing to replace you and lead mankind to death. If you do a good job, maybe Medivh can help you survive."
Only then did Varian realize the mistake he had made. His insistence on going his own way forced him to accept Medivh's coercion.
"For Medivh, I am willing to lead the Kingdom of Stormwind to fight the final battle, like a moth flying to a flame." Varian finally surrendered.
"Every orc must fight for the safety of the race until death."
Kilrogg, who was extremely thin, covered the wound in his abdomen and remained firm on this idea.
A piece of bone was still placed in front of Kilrogg. The remaining strands of meat were full of temptation. Kilrogg rushed forward like a wild dog and just grabbed the meat bone. Unexpectedly, a foot happened to step on the back of his hand, with a sharp tip.
The spiked soles of the boots were grinding hard.
Kilrogg cried in pain, but he couldn't let go. Without this piece of flesh and bone, he would starve to death.
Just above Kilrogg's head, a long greasy wooden table was filled with large pieces of sizzling and greasy barbecue, and wooden cups were filled with amber-colored wine. A dozen strong orcs gorged on the meat.
, drinking heavily, everyone’s face was shiny.
The orc who stepped on Kilrogg was very young, with a cunning look on his immature face. In terms of seniority, he was his nephew, Feltis Deadeye.
"I really want to step on something." Feltis winked deliberately.
Sitting on the main seat in the center is a muscular orc, the current chief of the Bloodring Clan and Kilrogg's cousin Nantrog. Deadeye.
Nantrog said solemnly: "Feltis, you must know etiquette."
Feltis blushed and lowered his head to admit his mistake.
"If you step on garbage, your feet will be dirty." Nantrog laughed happily, and everyone laughed wildly along with him.
Kilrogg finally got the meat bones, chewed them up and swallowed them.
After picking up some fallen food remnants, Kilrogg's hunger subsided slightly, and his wounds no longer hurt so much. He leaned on the leg of the wooden table and lost himself in thought with worry.
Tanaan Jungle, the dense jungle is home to a large number of wood spirits, violent primitive thorn beasts, ogres and vicious arakkoa, which threaten the Bleeding Ring Clan at all times. The Bleeding Ring Clan is just caught in the middle.
Survive in the world and face the crisis of genocide at any time. As a member of the Blood Ring Clan, you must fight for the clan.
Kilrogg's face was full of bitterness, worried about the future of the clan.
According to the ancient inheritance of the Blood Circle Clan, as long as you sacrifice your left eye and perform the corresponding rituals, you can gain the ability to predict.
At that time, the strongest orc in the Deadeye family was Kilrogg's father, and he was originally the perfect choice for the chief.
Someone had to stand up for the Bleeding Circle clan. Kilrogg's father gave his left eye and successfully predicted his own death.
After losing an eye, his strength inevitably declined, and Nantrog's father took the opportunity to replace him.
As a result, Kilrogg and his son became lowly slaves, making a living by picking up food scraps under the dining table.
Kilrogg's father predicted death, but did not predict his own tragic situation.
Despite this, Kilrogg still cared about the safety of his people and never wavered.
The banquet ended quickly. Nantrog grabbed Kilrogg's arm, dragged him out from under the dining table, put a dagger into his hand, and mocked wantonly:
"Dirty garbage, your father is dying. Fulfill his prophecy and it's up to you to end his life."
Kilrogg's hand holding the dagger trembled slightly, struggling internally.
Nantrog sneered:
"Your father's life is nothing to cherish, but the ancient inheritance of the Blood Ring Clan is even more important."