Stratholme God

   Chapter 1177 Eat melon collectively

The    Warsong Clan's flag was hurled by Garrosh, flew ten meters away, and slammed into the floor of the chieftain's hall. The solid wood floor that ordinary soldiers couldn't split with a knife and axe was penetrated to a depth of half a meter.

  The verbal challenge, and the opportunity to be used as a hilarity, can be taken back. When a chief clan of a first-class clan throws the battle flag of his clan, everything becomes irreversible.

  Not everyone in the tribe is eligible to play the Holy Duel【Macgora】.

   First of all, you must fight heroically in your own clan and become a recognized warrior, and then you can pass N singles and become a recognized chief of the clan.

   Then you must make your own clan a first-line clan before you are eligible to challenge the throne of the Great Chief.

  When the battle flag is thrown, it means that the chief has overwhelmed all the glory of his own clan. Once the challenge fails, at least the chief will stay on his head for ten years.

  The moment Thrall saw the battle flag of the battle song, he knew that a duel was inevitable.

   Even more tragic is that, whether he or Garrosh wins, the Horde will lose.

  Look at those angry orc chieftains.

   How grateful they were when Thrall brought them out of Nagrand, doomed to doom.

   But the unsatisfactory life after emigration has wiped out their goodwill towards the Great Chief.

   These ignorant compatriots from the backward world cannot see the huge gap between the alliance and the tribe. They only saw that the retreat of the Great Chief made the tribe suffer a huge shame.

   A pair of eyes, bright and piercing, any look in a pair of eyes is full of anger and disdain.

   If this is the Thrall who has achieved great success and made great achievements in history, most likely he will choose to heal the pain of the earth, voluntarily resign as the warchief, and 'let the sage' go to Garrosh.

  Unfortunately, in front of the chiefs is an unfulfilled Thrall. As the only tribal leader who has studied in the human world (as a spy), Thrall has a clearer understanding of the alliance than all other chiefs.

   Honestly, the feeling of 'everyone is drunk and I wake up alone' is really uncomfortable.

   Watching Garrosh, a pure orc, with his fellow native beasts, once again embark on the old path of the first-generation warchief's black hands, this is completely unacceptable to Thrall.

  Saar turned the face of that socialist in the past, showing the same indignation, it was a face of resentment.

   "Garrosh, you idiot! You only saw me give in to the Alliance. You never thought that if you start a war at will, all the main cities of the Horde will be wiped out within a week."

Garrosh put his left hand on [Blood Roar], and his right hand slammed his exaggerated pectoralis major muscles loudly. The Orcs are braver! The Horde's weapons are sharper! A great Horde needs a truly brave Warchief. Not a coward who will only give in!"

   His speech was echoed by almost all orc chiefs.

   "Well said Garrosh!"

   "We don't want a cowardly warchief."

   "Defeat him, Garrosh, and lead us to true glory!"

   These orc chiefs, who have not been beaten by the Alliance, have round eyes, and their expressions are extremely fanatical.

"A coward? Even your father knows what [advance and retreat] is! It's a pity! Garrosh, you have inherited your father's bravery, but not his wisdom." Rush, spit with his passion.

"Shut up! You coward don't deserve to talk about my father!" Garrosh raised his right fist high: "Thrall! You're still a man! Just pick me up [Makgora]! I'll be in the duel arena Let you know what a real man is!"

   The words are not speculative, Thrall knows very well that most orcs are such wooden heads, and only absolute violence can make them sober!

   As he said, he stretched his hand back: "Give me the battle flag of our clan."

   His personal guard was stunned for a moment, but after all, he did not dare to stop him, and handed over the wolf-headed battle flag of the Frostwolf Clan with both hands.

  Thrall quite violently inserted the battle flag in front of the Warsong Battle Flag, and the two flags formed a large cross.

  Macgora - Established!

   For a time, the entire chiefs hall was noisy.

The two chiefs of the    tribe wanted to use [Makgola] to decide the ownership of the great chief, and they immediately grew wings and spread throughout the city in a few moments.

   It's better to hit the sun if you choose a day. They are both men, and no one leads a soldier or hurts.

  In less than half an hour, more than 100,000 tribal soldiers and civilians surrounded the large arena, which was formerly the Arena of Doom.

   A guy with a weak body doesn't even have the qualifications to enter.

  Only the guy with the biggest fist can occupy an audience seat in the arena.

  On the main stand, the chiefs sat halfway.

   In fact, only non-orc leaders will sit here, and the orc chiefs will all be surrounded by them. They want to witness this grand duel with their own eyes at the closest distance.

   Vol'jin sat upright in the seat that belonged to the trolls, although he noticed the coldness in the eyes of the other leaders, but Vol'jin's expression was blank.

   Compared with the trolls, the other four leaders are all enemies of the alliance and outcasts of the world.

   They didn't care who was the chief. Perhaps the only thing they care about is whether the tribe can give them what they want—new territory, new resources, and the like.

  Vol'jin ignores them, as long as the tribe is strong enough, these races will be willing to become the pendant of the tribe.

  Vol'jin was only thinking of Thrall's great power at this moment and continued to lead the Horde.

  …

   The lively orcs didn't know that New Orgrimmar was so lively at the moment, it was all broadcast live to the top of the Alliance.

   Except for Brother Niu, who is busy with migration operations, all the leaders of the alliance are eating melons online at the same time.

   "McDonald, when you discovered that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse had a Garrosh Hellscream, you deliberately didn't notify Thrall, did you just wait for today?" Tyrande asked McDonald.

MacDonald didn't have the air of an emperor at all, he grinned wickedly: "Yes, I guessed early on that this Garrosh is not the deity, but a Garrosh from another parallel plane and belongs to the Iron Horde. Now It seems that my conjecture was correct."

  【Iron Tribe】whatever, they have been crazy since the second Dark Portal war.

   Without the help of this mysterious alien tribe, Thrall's lineage alone would have been wiped out by the Alliance long ago.

   This unknown is also one of the reasons why the leaders of the alliance choose to exercise restraint.

  Old Wolf King Jean reminded: "What if this tribe becomes stronger after Garrosh of [Iron Horde] dominates?"

   McDonald's smile was even worse: "But, the Star Soul of Azeroth recognizes Thrall more!"

   Alliance leaders rejoiced.

   (end of this chapter)