What attacked Blount was a three-edged sword with sharp serrations at the front, which was usually hidden in Drek'Thar's crutch.
Blunt was able to dodge and even knock Drek'Thar away as soon as he drew his sword.
But it was his most beloved master who attacked him unexpectedly. Blount did not dodge and let the sword pierce his heart.
"Master, I owe you everything I owe you," Blount said tremblingly.
Drek'Thar laughed and stirred hard. Blunt's heart broke and he died.
"What's going on?"
Velen and Anachronos were stunned at the same time in mid-air.
The powerful and arrogant "Drek'Thar" was unexpectedly attacked and killed by a masked old orc.
Drek'Thar had no time to retract his three-edged sword, and before anyone else could react, he rushed straight towards the nearby river, jumped into the water and disappeared.
After Blunt died, Sal and Red were free, and they carefully came to the body.
Thrall turned Blount's face and looked at it carefully for a while: "Yes, he is that old fool Drek'Thar."
Even until his death, Blount did not forget his master's instructions and maintained Drek'Thar's appearance.
Anachronos let out a sigh of relief: "Although Drek'Thar in this parallel world is terrifyingly strong, fortunately, we were lucky enough to complete the mission."
Reid said with some fear: "Drektar is so strong at this time, if he teaches Blackmoore, the consequences will be disastrous."
Viren smiled and said: "Fortunately, we have blocked Blackmoore's growth, and his path to leadership has been cut off."
Anaclos said seriously: "Don't take it lightly, Blackmoore must be completely killed."
"What should we do next?" Viren made a gesture of wiping his neck: "Why don't you let me sneak into Blackmoore's house, kill his whole family, and pretend to commit suicide? Haha, I have done this kind of thing a lot, every year
We're going to kill hundreds of draenei for fun."
Anaclos snorted coldly: "Are you the opponent of the woodcutter?"
When he thought of the mysterious woodcutter, Viren was speechless and his face turned pale.
Seeing that the other three could not make up their minds, Anaclos said loudly:
"There is no need for us to take action against Blackmoore. We will rush to Lordaeron immediately."
"You mean, King Terenas?" Velen understood.
Red clapped his hands and praised: "While Blackmore is still young, he encourages King Terenas to kill him. What a great plan."
Anaclos looked at the Frostwolf clan on both sides of the river and said fiercely:
"Our identities must be kept secret, and everyone who sees our faces will die."
The settlement of the Frostwolf clan turned into a sea of fire. After the four people left, Robbie and Kel'Thuzad stepped out of the shadows.
Blunt's body had been burned to coke. Kel'Thuzad shook his head and said regretfully:
"If we hadn't given Drek'Thar the wrong prophecy, he wouldn't have died."
Robbie touched his chin and said: "This Blount is a rare genius, but he is cowardly in nature and cannot be put to great use."
Kel'Thuzad said without hesitation: "Undead magic can change his character and even turn him into someone else. This is not difficult."
Robbie suddenly understood something: "We guided Drek'Thar to Blackmore's territory, but I always feel uneasy. Blunt can be used as a backup."
Kel'Thuzad said happily: "Okay, I will perform spiritualism on him right now."
As the saying goes, simplicity leads to greatness.
Kel'Thuzad's spiritualism was very simple, drawing a circle on the ground.
Under the influence of the wonderful rule field, the souls of the Frostwolf clan who had just been killed gathered into the circle.
Blount was among them, and Kel'Thuzad extracted all the resentment from the soul and concentrated it on Blount's soul.
An orc soul full of resentment was born,
Durnholde Asylum has changed its leader. After some personnel changes, life has returned to the same routine.
Blackmore has just harvested a fine horse and named it Blanche.
On a whim, Blackmore mounted Blanche and galloped around the territory with a few of his cronies.
When we came to the river, there was a rustling sound in the grass.
With a sharp look, Blackmoore, with his many years of combat experience, immediately judged that it was an orc.
It is not surprising that there are stray orcs in the Hillsbrad Foothills, perhaps they are those who escaped from the shelter, or there are also deserters from the past.
Blackmore made a gesture.
Several soldiers split up to outflank the enemy, while Blackmoore and Tamis attacked from the front.
Carefully parting the grass, a dirty old orc appeared in sight.
Drek'Thar was tired and hungry at the moment. He used elemental magic to successfully escape from the bottom of the water. His skin was cut numerous times by the gravel at the bottom of the river.
After finally climbing ashore, Drek'Thar fainted from exhaustion. When he woke up, his wound had turned black and suppurated, and he had a high fever.
"Save me!" Drek'Thar made a weak voice.
"You're a useless old orc, I'll give you a good time."
Blackmoore kills decisively and has no mercy towards the orcs, so he will use his sword to kill.
"I am the shaman of the Frostwolf clan. I can teach you shaman magic." Drek'Thar said hurriedly.
"Shaman?" Blackmore looked at the wounds all over his body: "But you can't even heal your own wounds."
Drek'Thar said feebly: "My village was attacked. I finally broke out and my mana was exhausted. Please save me. I can do whatever I want."
Blackmore laughed:
"Okay, then I'll give you a chance to see if your life is tough enough."
Blackmoore took out a rope, tied Drek'Thar's legs, and tied the other end of the rope to the saddle.
Blanche dragged Drek'Thar all the way and ran wildly with all four hooves raised.
Drek'Thar kept wailing and screaming, his wounds burst, and he soon became a bloody man. When he returned to Blackmoore's manor, he was unconscious with only a few intact skins on his body.
Tamis checked Drek'Thar's injuries and said in surprise: "He's still alive."
"Orcs don't die that easily." Blackmoore settled Blanche down, admiring his results.
Tamis asked strangely: "He is a shaman. If you just kill him, that's all. If you really want to use him for your own use, why treat him like this?"
Blackmore smiled mysteriously:
"We need to adopt different methods to treat different people. Some people need to be lured with benefits, and some people need to be heart-to-heart and become confidants. For orcs, we must torture them severely and make them completely afraid, so as to gain their loyalty."
Tamis nodded thoughtfully: "Lord, you are right, but all orcs are not the same."
Blackmore said coldly:
"I have observed his wounds, and they were not caused by fighting with the enemy. As a shaman who is respected by the tribe, he has the responsibility to protect the tribe, but he runs away alone regardless of the safety of the tribe. This kind of person must be treated cruelly.
Throw him into the stable and, by the way, put a magic-forbidden collar on him."
Tamis was surprised. Although Blackmoore was brave in battle, his intelligence was only average.
When did you become so smart?
"Lord, there seems to be something different about you."
"Really?" Blackmore scratched his head and said, "I also feel that many things that I couldn't figure out before can be figured out at once."