Azeroth Shadow Trail

   Chapter 625 178. Your hand is very powerful

   Blackmoore and his elite guards were routed.

   This human general who joined the army from a young age, fought everywhere, and exchanged his own blood and the blood of his enemies for meritorious deeds, was left alone in less than five minutes after the battle.

   It is not because he is in a high position that he neglects to exercise, nor because he is frightened, nor because the guards around him are not elite enough.

   Just because the opponent is too strong.

   That unreasonably strong orc used an axe one by one, just like chopping down a tree. He charged forward and executed them with unreasonable executions. One by one, his own guards were severely injured.

  The armor made by the dwarves could not resist the power of the black iron battle axe. Every axe of his can resonate with anger, making the beheadings fierce and fierce.

  The end result of the soldiers using shields to block is that they are smashed together with their shields.

   When he set off the whirlwind, General Blackmore even felt like he was about to suffocate.

   He was completely unstoppable.

   could only watch the brave guards howl and fall to the ground under the ravages of the orcs, they used their bodies to buy themselves time to retreat.

   But before Blackmoore ran out of the blast tunnel, there was a gust of cold wind behind him.

The   excited general's scalp was numb, and he rolled out. With a bang, the wooden door at the end of the passage was shattered by the **** battle axe, and even the wall collapsed.

   The smoke and dust splashed around, completely blocking Blackmoore's path.

   The pale-faced general turned his head and saw that the last loyal guard was knocked unconscious by the brutal punch of the orc, and there was still a fist mark of a steel gauntlet on his helmet.

  The orc wearing the steel armor forged by the dark iron dwarves seemed very comfortable after a hearty battle. He reached out and took off his full-covered horn helmet, revealing a pair of slightly scarlet eyes.

   took off the gauntlet chopped by the battle axe and threw it aside.

   He moved his arms and walked towards General Blackmoore, each step heavy and with a rush of warrior anger.

The general took a deep breath. He also knew that he had no way to escape, so he slammed his breastplate and let out a cry. He leaned on the heavy sword and stood up, holding the sword in both hands, and aimed the sword at the beast in front of him. .

   He worked hard to arouse his anger, and turned the loss of his foundation, the pain in his heart and the bleak future, as well as the anger that he had gained after being ruthlessly trampled on tonight, into his own fighting power.

   A mass of flame-like anger entwined around him, adding a touch of tragic and solemnity to General Blackmoore.

   He also knew exactly why the orc in front of him was so angry.

   He hated himself for using his people as a carrier of ambition, hating himself for taking advantage of an orc child, and he could even feel the disdain in the eyes of Varok Saurfang.

   This made General Blackmoore feel offended.

   he shouted:

   "What? Now you act like a hero who protects children? When you slaughtered the old and weak women and children in Storm City, why didn't you stand up for them?

   Just because I took advantage of your children, I became an unpardonable sinner in your eyes?

  Bah!

   disgusting greenskin!

   What right do you have to despise me? "

   "I have no right to despise anyone, you are right, generals of mankind, in your world, in your land, we have no glory at all."

   Varok Saurfang walked forward, clenching his fists, and said:

   "But I just want to teach you a lesson, my purpose is very simple."

   "Then come!"

   Blackmore laughed and said:

"Kill his 'father' in front of the child I raised! Just as you did to our children before, come on, Orc, break my neck, it should be easy for you .

   How many orcs have you killed? "

   "I never count those."

  Saurfang seemed irritated by Blackmoore's words.

   He stopped at his feet, and then launched a charge. In a swift collision, the human general roared and swung his heavy sword to slash at Varok who could not dodge and smash his shoulder armor.

   was only close to slicing into his body.

   But he never got that chance again.

  At the same time as the shoulder armor shattered, Varok's heavy fist slammed into Blackmore's chin, knocking him off the ground, and in another hug, the general smashed to the ground.

   The sword in Blackmore's hand swirled and flew out, and he felt that all the bones in his body were about to be shattered by this blow, and his jaw must have been shattered.

   "I really deserve to die for my sins."

  Saurfang pressed the human general who was struggling in front of his eyes and bleeding from his nostrils and ears. He whispered:

"You too!"

   "No! Stop!"

   At the moment when Varok seemed to strangle Blackmoore, behind him, at the other end of the passage, the young orc in tattered clothes who was brought out of the dungeon by Brox suddenly shouted:

   "Overseer, stop! If we want to stop hatred, let's stop creating disputes! Killing him will make your situation worse.

   also affects the Frostwolf clan in the Alterac Mountains. "

"you?"

  Walok turned his head, he looked at the young orc with blue eyes behind him, he said:

   "You should say 'us'! Go'el!"

   "His name is Thrall, stupid."

   Blackmoore spat at the orc in front of him.

  Because his jaw was broken, it made him extremely painful every time he opened his mouth. He said vaguely:

   "That's the name that fits his identity, that's the name he grew up with, he doesn't want me to die, do you see the look in his eyes?

   He knew I made him.

   He doesn't trust you, he trusts me more.

  Hehehe, first Black Shaw, then two powerful Overseers, and a **** 'Great Chief', Thrall's identity is really not simple.

   I knew from the day I picked him up that he was destined to be the king of orcs! He is the king of orcs created by me, and it was you who killed his parents.

  You are his enemies, and I am his adoptive father!

   You can never change that! "

   "We don't need to change his past, we just focus on his future."

  Valok lowered his head in disappointment, and clasped Blackmoore's wrist. The general's hand bones were forcibly broken by the Overseer as the anger gathered from his fingers.

   He looked into Blackmoore's wide eyes and said:

   "I won't take your life either. Keeping promises is a virtue we orcs have just picked up. Your fate will be judged by your 'friend'.

   He is a human, so he should be kind to you. "

   The pained general will also be scolded.

   But Saurfang punched him in the neck, his eyes rolled and he fainted.

   Ten minutes later, Chief Reid directed his "orthodox tribe" to board the dragon of the Dragonmaw clan again, and in the night before dawn, he flew out of the hills quickly.

  A large number of bags are tied behind each seat dragon, which are full of treasures and supplies, which are the remuneration and "rent" promised to the Dragonmaw clan.

   Those **** charge extremely high prices because of their "unique" business.

   However, because of the fact that the Red Chieftain made a lot of money this trip, he would not deduct these things.

   "Kagas never responded, and his elite Broken Hands fled into Silverpine Forest. I saw Grom take his men to the Alterac Mountains before.

   The two of them made up their minds not to return to Draenor. "

   Behind the dragons, Varok wiped his battle axe and said to his brother:

   "Thrall was willing to follow us back to Blackrock Mountain, but he demanded that we have to release Blackmoore. The child was 'poisoned', and the vicious words Blackmoore said before he was knocked out seem to have come true."

   Having said that, Varok glanced back.

The young Thrall was sitting curiously on the dragon's spine, listening to the old Ner'zhul telling stories of the past in the Draenor world, the old shaman who was always exhausted and like a walking dead, The meeting seems to have regained its vitality strangely.

   He was holding up his hemp-like hand, drawing Thrall the shape of the continent of Draenor on a piece of cloth. Thrall listened with great interest, and occasionally asked a few questions.

   This scene fell in Varok's eyes, which reassured the Overseer a little. He turned his head and whispered to the silent Brocks:

   "But I always feel that there is a human soul hidden under the child's appearance similar to ours"

   "Wouldn't that be better?"

  Brocks is not worried about this problem, he frowned, trying to put together the blade of his broken legendary battle axe, and said to his worried brother:

   "That means Gu'el will have the bravery of orcs and the cunning of humans, he will be a fusion of the advantages of the two races, and will be able to lead our tribe better in the future.

   And now, instead of worrying about Gu’el’s problems, you might as well worry about his people.

When   Lothar's life and death are unknown, the human army will soon enter Alterac, Drek'Thar and his clan must evacuate immediately, and we must arrange for a trusted person to pick them up. "

"I go!"

   Varok moved his shoulders and threw a piece of jerky into his mouth. He said:

"During the war, I spent time in the Hinterlands, and followed Orgrim Warchief through the mountains of Alterac, and I am very familiar with them. If the pirate can bring them ships as agreed, then I will Safe to bring them to the shores of the Hinterlands."

   "Well, yes."

  Brocks nodded, he thought about it, and then said:

   "But don't hurry, we have to meet that pirate again. We became a 'thug' for him once, and we can be regarded as saving his clan and civilization, and he still owes us something.

   Go and rest, Warlock.

   Don't think about it, we'll teach Goel well. "

   sent his younger brother to rest, Brox continued to sit cross-legged behind the large dragon, he was still frowning and piecing together the fragments of the battle axe in front of him.

   But after a few seconds, Blocks looked left and right, and quietly raised his left hand.

  In his palm, there was a strange rune, and the shape of the rune was very similar to the war rune that Lothar had wrapped around Dalaran before.

   The old orc didn't know when he had this thing in his hand, but he was sure that it was only after he cut an axe of Deathwing.

   This seems to mean that he was noticed by some supreme being.

Do not.

   That is not accurate.

   The orcs who should be represented by him were noticed by the war **** sitting high above the clouds.

   This is a power that can be responded to, but Brox can't decide whether to respond to it or not. After all, the orcs have had enough of the terrible trouble caused by responding to the power casually.

  The death of a world is enough for them to learn to be cautious.

—

  While Dunhold Castle was attacked, Silverpine Forest, near Dalaran Pit.

   This is the landscape shaped after the runaway magic that was supposed to destroy the entire northern continental shelf was transferred to the ground and detonated, and the cities on it have shattered into slag.

The    is so evenly shattered that it is difficult for those little wizards who escaped the catastrophe to stand on the edge of the pit and want to pick up something as a souvenir.

   All the items in the whole city are "evenly" piled up at the bottom of the big pit, mixed with the broken earth. It is foreseeable that it will be a long and difficult process to collect usable things from those residues.

   Fortunately, the "spaces" extended by magic in each mage tower are still there, like invisible lost treasures. As long as the mage can find a way to open them, they will not lose everything.

   But if the memory is not good, then there is no way. After the main body of the mage tower collapses, the magic space attached to the main body will gradually dissipate due to the loss of magic power supply.

   If they can't be reopened before they die out, everything that lives and dies inside will be lost in the void. Maybe it will suddenly reappear in some parts of the material world after a few years or a decade.

   But most of the time, if it’s gone, it’s gone, and you can only consider yourself unlucky.

  The mysterious "Postmaster" is said to be able to retrieve those things, but even among the mages in Dalaran, few know the spell to summon the Postmaster's servants.

   But the mages in Dalaran haven't had time to pay attention to this yet. The high-level mages headed by the Council of Six have received reports from some cavalrymen that there are a large number of orcs in the forest.

   So they set off with rage, to spread the city's destruction on these damned orcs.

  Kagas Blade Fist didn't know which link went wrong. In short, after he took a short rest, he and his Broken Hand elites were surrounded by a group of berserk mages.

The number of    is so different that he must not fight and must retreat, but the problem is that Kargath is not a veteran of the Orc War, he is very unfamiliar with this land.

   After walking around with the clan for more than ten minutes, not only did he not run out, but he was trapped in a newly formed valley by the narrowed encircling net of the mages.

   "Poison!"

  Kagas looked around, this beautiful orc man with flowing long hair grinned and revealed a hideous smile, he said:

   "Stop running! Fight them to the death here, kill a few more mages, and kill a hundred more! Bring endless pain to them!"

"Roar!"

   This crazy proposal was immediately cheered by all the broken-hand lunatics, and they started to poison their ferocious fists and weapons without fear.

  Kagas himself planned to do the same, but when he took out the poison sac, a voice suddenly sounded from a tree not far away.

   "Hey, do you orcs have such a sense of ritual even in courting death?"

"Um?"

   Chief Broken Hand raised his head and saw an old man standing on a branch wearing a noble hunting suit. The latter was playing with a broken demon claw and said to him condescendingly:

   "I know there is a way to get you all out, but I need you to grant me a request.

   I used to have a big power, but now it's destroyed, as you can see, I'm just a middle-aged man, but I don't want to just admit defeat

  I formally invite you to join Ravenholdt, Kargath Bladefist, who has just been reborn. I feel like my organization should be more 'inclusive' after this failure.

what is your opinion? Blade Fist Master. "

   (end of this chapter)