Chapter eight hundred and twentieth: warriors of the tribe one
In Brackenwall Village, King Mogmulok fell into thinking. Although the ogres were impulsive, they were still quite resourceful and could be said to be very cunning.
To be able to achieve the position of king, it is not enough to be physically strong, you must also have wisdom that is comparable to strength.
King Mogmulok thought for a long time and whispered a few words in the priest's ear.
After hearing this, the priest's eyebrows lit up, he praised the king for his wisdom, and went down to prepare.
King Mogmulok came to the prison where the prisoners were held, grabbed Thrall's neck, like a cat under his arm, and deliberately poked Thrall's broken bone with his finger, causing Thrall to grin and moan in pain.
"Hahaha, is this a savior? If Saurfang knew your miserable state, how happy he would be." King Mogmulok was overjoyed: "Kill you, and Saurfang promises to give the northern castle to you.
I will also reward ten beautiful orcs."
King Mogmulok showed a squinting expression: "I don't care about the northern castle, but there are ten beautiful orcs, hehe."
After deliberately glancing at the half-breed brother, King Mogmulok said mysteriously in Thrall's ear: "We ogres all dream of marrying an orc beauty. That thin waist, slender figure, and sharp fangs are all...
Attracting us, of course, there are also some idiots who like gnolls."
Thrall was so frightened that he hurriedly begged: "Your Majesty, if you are willing to let me go back, I am willing to give you a hundred orc beauties, oh, no, a thousand."
King Mogmulok smiled and shook his head: "One thousand is too many. We have a small population in Bracken Wall Village, so only five hundred orc beauties are enough."
Sal was a little surprised. He didn't expect that the other party would reduce the ransom. He immediately nodded and said: "No problem."
Just listen to King Mogmulok continue: "We in Brackenwall Village are short of meat. I heard that the tauren taste quite good. If Orgrimmar provides us with a thousand tauren every year, I do not recommend becoming friends with the orcs.
"
"A thousand tauren, right? I promise you." With his life in the opponent's hands, Thrall agreed without thinking.
"I heard that a strong tauren and a fat pandaren, cooked together in a pot, are the best delicacies in Azeroth." King Mogmulok patted Thrall on the shoulder: "Since
We are already friends, so you shouldn't be so stingy."
Thrall secretly thought in his heart that as long as he satisfied the greedy ogres, he would be free, return to Orgrimmar, and immediately destroy Brackenwall Village, so he said:
"Okay, one thousand pandaren every year, plus five hundred Zandalari trolls, and five hundred Kul Tirans. As long as I can return to Offagri safely, I will send someone to deliver them immediately."
King Mogmulok nodded: "You are worthy of being a great savior. I feel your generosity. Haha, our ogre family has no intention of fighting for Azeroth, but we just want to live a comfortable life. From now on, Fern
The Wall Village and Orgrimmar are one family."
An ogre doctor came forward to help Thrall apply medicine and bandage his wound. King Mogmulok smiled and said: "For the sake of the friendship between ogres and orcs, you only need a simple ritual and you will be safe. Savior Sal
you."
I saw the ogre priest walking over carrying a large basin. The basin was filled with dark liquid, and countless tiny red nematodes could be seen floating and floating, giving off an ominous dark atmosphere.
The two brothers Rexxar and Renekton were familiar with the black magic of the ogres. They felt the dark atmosphere in it and trembled with fear. The ogres are a cruel race. There are many black magic that makes people unable to survive or die.
magic.
"Your Majesty, everything is ready. All that's left is the last medicine."
King Mogmulok nodded: "Very good, so that the ogres can live in peace with the orcs, let's get started."
The ogre priest spoke plausibly: "The last medicine, the blood of hybrids, is used to communicate the blood of ogres and orcs."
After cutting Renekton's arm, a stream of blood spurted out. The ogre priest carefully collected the blood and poured it into the black liquid in the basin.
The black liquid boiled, and countless insects were twisting and turning, looking very penetrating. The ogre priest smiled sinisterly: "Rexar, Renekton, you have secretly learned a lot of our black magic.
Do you recognize this magic?"
Rexxar frowned. Renekton saw something and said in surprise: "Is this the legendary..."
The ogre priest chuckled and said: "Yes, you guessed it right, this is the black magic of the royal family of the Golia Empire, and its name is damage transfer."
"Damage transfer?" Renekton had never heard of this name. He thought it was another black magic.
King Mogmulok scrounged around in the basin and caught a worm as thick as a finger. Among the worms in the basin that were as thin as a string, this red worm stood out.
The red bug struggled in the palm of his hand. Mogmulok threw it into his mouth and swallowed it without hesitation, then looked at Thrall with a smile:
"Dear savior Thrall, choose a worm to eat, and you will be free. From now on, Brackenwall Village and Orgrimmar will be one family."
Renekton said hurriedly: "Lord Savior, this is insidious black magic. Don't eat it."
Looking at the crooked blood-colored nematodes in the basin, Thrall felt nauseated, and the talk of black magic made him tremble. King Mogmulok said fiercely: "Why, Lord Savior, do you want to refuse the stone hammer cannibalism?"
Demonic friendship?"
Several ogres rushed over, firmly controlled Thrall, and forced open his mouth. King Mogmulok randomly grabbed a handful of blood-colored worms, threw them into Thrall's mouth, and then forced him to swallow them.
Sal only felt violent tumbling in his stomach, which was itchy and painful. He retched several times, but nothing could be vomited out.
King Mogmulok nodded to the ogre priest: "Let's begin."
The priest took out a needle and pierced it deeply into the king's chest.
King Mogmulok remained calm, but Thrall jumped up in pain and hurriedly covered his chest with a look of surprise on his face.
"Trying." King Mogmulok ordered.
This time, the priest took out a sharp dagger and cut off a piece of meat from the king's leg. The king was still smiling, and Sal grinned in pain. What was even more strange was that Sal found that his leg was bloody and bloody.
, blood flowed out violently.
On the contrary, the wound on King Mogmulok's leg completely disappeared. The ogre priest nodded with satisfaction and said: "The magic of the royal family of the Goria Empire is indeed superb."
King Mogmulok smiled slightly: "When the Goria Empire was at its most powerful, it raised 3.5 million orcs. The emperor established a damage transfer with 100,000 orc slaves, and all the damage received was transferred to the slaves.
One can kill the great King of Goria."
Sal was shocked when he heard this. He knew what this meant.
King Mogmulok stared at Thrall's frightened eyes and said with a smile: "Orcs never pay attention to credibility. If I put you back in Orgrimmar, you will immediately lead troops to massacre Brackenwall Village. Fortunately, now we
We are together, and if something happens to me, you will never survive."
Sal quickly showed a flattering smile:
"Your Majesty, don't worry. As long as I, Thrall, remain the orc chief, Brackenwall Village will always be a friend of the orcs, and I will promise you nothing less."