After Senjin finished telling his dream, everyone quickly started talking in low voices.
Senjin's face was expressionless, like a statue, quietly waiting for everyone to express their opinions.
In such a strict occasion, there is a certain order of speech, and not everyone is qualified to speak first.
Everyone's eyes were focused on the high priest, who was the priest of Fithra, the Lord of Tides. He held a high position in the Darkspear tribe, second only to Chief Sen'jin.
Because he represents the will of the Tide Lord, he should take the lead in expressing his opinions, and then everyone will agree.
The strange thing is that the old priest just frowned and seemed to have difficulty making up his mind.
Just when everyone looked at the old priest in confusion, a young troll stepped forward. It was Senjin's favorite legitimate son, Xiao Ming, known as King Ming. This was a delicate young man with sharp fangs and a voice.
Loud and powerful:
"Dear father, can you listen to me?"
Senjin immediately turned around, showed a friendly and satisfied smile, nodded and said: "My son, don't be restrained, come forward quickly, my father would like to hear your opinion."
That is, Sen Jin's favorite legitimate son has such qualifications.
King Ming bowed deeply, took a few steps forward, and said politely:
"Thank you for your father's grace. According to the child, this is an oracle passed down by the supreme Lady Darkspear. It is intended to warn us to be careful of humans and fishmen. They are plotting secretly to destroy our Darkspear tribe. Only with the green
The only hope for the Darkspear tribe is for the skinned orcs to unite."
Chief Senjin's dream was not difficult to interpret at all, it was easy to understand. Many people present had the same idea, nodding their heads and praising King Ming in a low voice for his extraordinary intelligence.
Only the old priest said nothing and seemed to have a worried look on his face.
After hearing this, Senjin straightened his collar and walked towards his son step by step.
King Ming looked at his father, feeling proud and waiting for his father's praise.
Suddenly, Senjin's face became ferocious and terrifying, as if he was possessed by a demon. Two murderous glares shot out from his eyes, scaring King Ming to the point where he knelt on the ground and his body couldn't stop shaking.
Senjin was never a benevolent chief. For example, his legitimate sons were not only four, but at most twelve, and King Ming was not the first legitimate son to be favored.
"Why, why is it you? Are you so eager to inherit my position as chief?"
Senjin asked fiercely, wanting to pierce Aiko's chest with his fangs.
King Ming was so frightened that he didn't understand what he had said wrong, but he kept begging for his life.
Senjin waved his hand and said loudly: "We, the Darkspear Trolls, can gain a foothold in Azeroth by relying on the harmony of the people, the dedication of the soldiers, and the unity of the various families, rather than bowing to foreign races.
.Even a mere orc dares to challenge me, the Darkspear Troll, and I, Senjin, hereby swear that I will personally take off Thrall’s head.”
I don't understand, it's so strange.
Most of the people present were suspicious, and they couldn't understand why Senjin would make such a decision.
Only the old priest on the side nodded secretly, his face relaxed.
"Here comes someone."
Following Chief Senjin's order, a dozen strong trolls carried a large cauldron filled with hot oil. Senjin glared at his beloved son and loudly ordered: "Throw this traitor to the cauldron."
Boil it inside, and make a broth out of his flesh and blood, and distribute it to everyone present.”
Ignoring King Ming's cry for mercy, the guards grabbed his limbs and threw them into the hot cauldron.
Senjin's face was very terrifying, and his murderous eyes swept over everyone present.
"Anyone who suggests cooperating with the orcs will suffer the same fate as King Ming. I hope you will take care of yourself."
The great chief had already made a decision. Many trolls present were confused and could only praise loudly but did not dare to express any opinions.
Varimathras, who was hidden in the crowd, closed his eyes, his heart feeling cold. Unexpectedly, Archimonde's hope was also in vain.
This Senjin was so ruthless. He sacrificed his favorite legitimate son and successfully blocked the orcs from the door.
Even if Thrall wanted to secretly collude with the nobles of the Darkspear trolls, these trolls who fear Sen'jin would probably not dare to agree.
Varimathras carefully looked at the remaining three legitimate sons and seven powerful illegitimate sons. They were all frightened by Sen'jin. Is it possible to trick these frightened trolls into seeking the position of chief?
It's possible.
Did it just fail?
Varimathras knew very well that the Darkspear trolls were allied with the murlocs, and with the human fleet of Kul Tiras providing assistance, the orcs were no match at all.
What should we do? The person behind the scenes is so powerful, he has figured it all out.
Varimathras didn't even know who his opponent was, so he failed humiliatingly. At this moment, Dalaran's fleet was about to be built, and the orcs were already preparing to go to sea. He didn't have much time.
There was no point in staying in the troll palace. Varimathras could only leave secretly, but not the Darkspear trolls. He wanted to seduce the murlocs or the humans of Kul Tiras.
Varimathras secretly killed a murloc, tried to follow suit, took his identity, and blended into the murlocs.
He suddenly realized that he did not understand the language of the fishmen at all. The fishmen were a strange race. Their language was composed of a few simple syllables, but it was all-encompassing and seemed to be able to express anything.
In the end, Varimathras could only cook the fishmen into delicious grilled fish fillets, and then wander aimlessly in the Echo Islands, hoping to find opportunities and relying on slim luck.
Robbie's ship is floating on the sea, still some distance from the island where Wojin is exiled.
"Wait for me here." Robbie ordered and jumped into the sea alone.
Use arcane magic to construct an oval-shaped bubble, and push it with the power of holy light, as fast as a barracuda.
I have to admit that in the 10,000-year era of Queen Azshara, the magic of the upper elves was so rich that it could be applied to all situations encountered in life.
Robbie used magic to hide himself and sneaked close to the island.
On the beach on the island, young Woking was lying on a big stone.
Although there was not a single figure around him, he knew that some incredible existence was always staring at him.
From the time he was born, this mysterious being who claimed to be a god had been by his side.
"Who is my father?"
Wo'jin asked again. He had asked this question countless times since he was a child.
"Your father is a noble of the Zandalar Empire." A cunning voice sounded in Vol'jin's ears:
"He is an amazing troll and a hero. He was entrusted by his tribe, and with the determination to die, he entered the Valley of Thorns to prevent the resurrection of a terrible evil god. Before leaving, he entrusted you to me."
Vol'jin smiled and shook his head, complaining: "Forget it, you told me last time that my father entered Pandaria and resurrected an old friend of the Zandalari trolls from ancient times."
"Really? Did I say that?" the voice asked strangely.
"Just a few days ago, you told me personally that my father was captured by the evil high elves and cut off an arm before escaping with his life. Do you like making up stories so much?" Vol'jin asked dissatisfied.
"My dear Vol'jin, it makes no difference. It's all deceiving you anyway."
"So you admit that you lied to me?" Vol'jin asked in a victorious tone.
"Of course, and I will never lie to you again. Your opportunity has come, Woking." (To be continued)