Azeroth’s Death Track

Jolin Deadeye, who was driving a frost saber towards the battlefield, suddenly felt his heart twitch.

It wasn't pain, but a kind of panic arose in the young orc's heart. As a gifted warlock, he knew very well that these signs often represented some bad things.

He looked towards the battlefield, and in the shining light, he seemed to see the vision of his father dying on the battlefield, which made the young man's breathing heavy.

Wake up, Jolin!

A deep voice sounded beside the young orc, making Yolin recover from the cold illusion. He raised his head and looked at the old orc who was riding a strange nightmare beast galloping beside him. The nightmare beast was like a black war horse. The same, but on the hooves of the horses, icy flames burned, leaving scorched hoofprints along the way.

But even more notable is the orc riding the Nightmare Beast... Orgrim Doomhammer.

A man who should have died.

The orc chieftain was wearing a set of black armor, shoulders decorated with dragon-headed shoulder armor, a ferocious black hammer on his back, and a nearly full-covered horned helmet on his head. The dark-style armor is not the traditional style of the orcs, but with Orgrim's broad and strong body, wearing this armor is even more domineering.

Great Chief, are you... are you really okay?

Jolin couldn't help asking, and Orgrim, who was driving the nightmare beast to the battlefield, let out a deep laugh:

No, Yorin, I have a problem, and it's a big problem... I surrendered to death, I accepted this cursed power, and stayed in the world of the living as a humble ghost, in order to preserve the last hope of the tribe ...a curse, the curse that hangs over the entire orc clan, will be lifted, tonight.

And at the moment Orgrim's voice fell, a dark green pillar of fire rose up on the battlefield in front of him. When he saw the pillar of fire, Orgrim's eyes under the helmet flashed a gleam of coldness. Stretched out his left hand and clasped it on Jolin's shoulder. The moment he touched it, the young orc felt an indescribable chill rushing into his body along his arm, making his little half of his body and his soul feel the piercing chill. cold.

boom

Jorin was thrown on the horse behind the nightmare beast's saddle, and Orgrim said in a deep voice:

Hurry up!

wow

The great chief grabbed the reins, and the nightmare beast, which had been silent all this time, raised its front hooves. Amidst the flashes of black fire, the entire armored black steed rushed into the sky at an extremely fast speed, as if stepping on the air, and it was extremely stable. , just like running on the invisible earth.

ah!

The sudden lift-off made the young orc let out an exclamation, and the chief who was driving the nightmare beast shook his head:

Where death goes, even the sky...is a battlefield for us to gallop...

Hold on, kids...I'm coming...

we are coming!

————————————————————————————————

Say it! Answer me!

The front hoof of the Destroyer Maronos stepped on Thrall's scorched body. It was like playing a clumsy game. With the force of the front hoof bit by bit, Thrall opened his mouth in pain, A mouthful of blood mixed with internal organ fragments spewed out.

Answer me! Are you going to kneel down? Or die!

Sal!

Garrosh, whose whole back was burned and bloody, grabbed Kilrogg's scorching hunting stick, roared, and staggered to rush to rescue his brother. Dranosh followed behind him, But before the two young orcs got close to the abyss lord, they were slapped and flew out by the roaring halberd.

Recognize your identities, rats!

Mannoroth scolded disdainfully:

It's not your turn yet...

Its eyes fell on the struggling Thrall again, its ugly inverted triangle head was full of mocking and terrifying smiles:

You're in pain, aren't you, orc? You don't want to kneel to me? It's okay...I'm a magnanimous man.

As he spoke, Mannoroth took a step back, holding his sharp double-ended war spear in its thick claws, aiming the sharp spear point at Thrall in front of him, and said softly:

Then go to hell, reptiles! You only deserve to be crushed to death by...

At the moment when the Destroyer's spear whizzed and fell, a black figure descended from the sky. Amidst the deep roar, Orgrim held the hammer in both hands, saving all his strength, and the icy power bestowed by death layer by layer Wrapped around the warhammer, it became extremely thick, and even brought up a trace of cold storm that penetrated into the bone marrow when it was swung.

Get your dirty hands... off!

boom

The dark warhammer slammed on the top of Mannoroth's head, death and evil energy collided, causing the destroyer to let out a strange scream, its head was smashed to the ground by the huge force, and its front hoof stomped The ground is bursting, it can be seen that the blow is full of brute force, and half of the destroyer's head is frozen, but the destroyer is not willing to just admit defeat, under the pressure of the huge force, it He frantically propped up his body with the spear so that he would not fall to the ground.

wow

The black figure disappeared in a flash, and when the destroyer raised his head again, a quarter of the hideous crown-like bony plate on its head had been smashed, and it looked rather embarrassed. While watching, Orgrim was putting Thrall in his arms on the ground behind him. This old orc in heavy armor stared at the destroyer in front of him. He said in a low voice:

After you conspired with Gul'dan to spread the curse of the blood on the souls of the orcs, I have been looking for you for a long time, demon... Today, I finally found you, and the only thing I regret is... I am afraid I can't do it with The identity of a pure orc kills you here...

it's a pity...

boom

The heavy halberd in the hands of the destroyer slammed on the ground fiercely. In the earthquake-like vibration, it took a step forward, and the burning fire of evil energy in its eyes burst like this:

Ah, finally here's someone who can fight? Do you know how bored I am tonight?

Come on! Fight...I don't know the so-called idiot!

Facing the violent invitation from the destroyer, Orgrim did not step forward immediately. On the contrary, he looked at the sky, as if waiting for something. He didn't even look at Mannoroth. He said softly:

Wait a minute, the fun of this battle of vengeance should not be exclusive to me, Maronus the Destroyer, tonight... many old friends will come to play with you...until you play Have fun until.

click

Under the dark night, the sky of Mount Hyjal was like glass shattered by some kind of force. At this moment, endless cracks appeared in the sky, reflecting the blue-purple light, like another world and this world. The channel is open normally.

crash

Carrying the Gorehowling battle ax entangled in black fire, Grom, wearing a set of clan-style black armor, took a step from the sky and fell into the battlefield below like a meteor. In the sound of the horn from nowhere, the chief Warsong who had accepted the power of death landed on the ground with both feet. Amid the vibration of the ground, he raised his head, and his black eyes stared at the destroyer like a fel volcano in front of him:

On the throne of Kil'jaeden, I was the first orc chieftain to drink the blood of a demon, but tonight, I am honored to personally solve the disaster I caused.

boom

Bloodhowl, the battle ax covered in black flames, was held by Grom in his hand, and he said in a deep voice:

It's time to settle the old score, Mannoroth, I, Grommash Hellscream, I am here on behalf of the countless souls of the Warsong clan that you destroyed!

Is it just the two of you?

From the blow just now, Mannoroth felt that the power of Orgrim, who was added to death, was not as strong as it, so even if the two guys are combined, it is not impossible to deal with it, but it may take a little effort... a little small price.

But how could the abyss lord, who is madly eager for destruction and battle, shrink back in front of the battle?

Its huge dragon-like body took a step forward, wrapped in blazing evil energy, and its deep voice sounded on the battlefield:

I clearly remember how you mice shared my blood in that sad little world... So, among so many mice back then, are you the only ones who dare to stand in front of me now? This is you Orc courage? Bah!

Sorry, I'm late...

The moment Maronos finished speaking, a hoarse voice sounded behind it. The destroyer turned around and saw Kargas Bladefist, who had been burnt just now, also climbed up from the ground. When he got up, a black flame covered his body quickly like a ignited flame, and burned out in the next moment. What remained in place turned into a man wearing black leather armor and a skull mask. Orcs who became fist blades burning with black fire.

Kargath's muffled voice came from under the skull mask:

I, Kargath Bladefist, I return from death on behalf of the Shattered Hand Clan, just for tonight's trial!

And me...ah, it hurts!

Chief Fenris of the Thunderlord Clan, who was burned alive to protect the three young men, stood up from the place of his death with his shoulders moving. Like Kargath, the black flame reshaped him in an extreme time. body, and gave him a new hideous image.

Like a death hunter, the chain armor decorated with skeletons, the black spider-like helmet, and the spear behind him, he moved his hands, and the sharp black metal claws pierced his fists. It can be seen that under the reflection of the black fire, Fenris' eyes reflected a deadly frost.

In my name, the Thunderlord clan will participate in tonight's trial...Mannoroth, the Destroyer...in the name of Draenor...

Sentence... to death!

Kilrogg Deadeye moved his neck and finished what Fenris hadn't said. Obviously, the old chieftain of the Blood Ring clan also accepted the gift of death just like his brother. , appearing more frivolous, but the decoration on the black armor showed Kilrogg's fanatical pursuit of death.

After completing the Dead Eye ritual, everyone in the Dead Eye family can see the phantom of death, which itself is an orc bloodline that pursues death, and now, he embraces death and draws new power from it.

Kilrogg stretched out his hand towards Garrosh, who was half kneeling on the ground, and the latter handed him the hunting stick that belonged to Kilrogg. The moment the hunting stick returned to its owner, black flames entwined On this hunting stick, let it become fiercer and more deadly.

The Blood Ring Clan...join this trial! We have waited, too long...

crash

A door filled with the power of death opened on the battlefield, with black cloth strips in his eyes, wearing a black robe, holding a skeleton hammer in one hand, and holding a pale soul lamp in the other, Drek'Thar the Death Sage came from Slowly walking out of the fog of death, this seriously injured shaman who was supposed to be waiting for death in the ruins of Azshara seemed to have signed a contract with a certain existence.

He looked at the comatose Thrall, and he let out a long sigh. This always wise shaman, this elder who single-handedly introduced Thrall into the way of shamanism, at this moment, used a desolate look like an autumn wind sweeping fallen leaves. the voice said:

The Frostwolf clan...here! The trial...continues!

Six death chiefs representing different clans surrounded Maronus the Destroyer, who no longer uttered wild words. The scorching temperature before this battlefield had become extremely cold due to the gathering of the power of death, and even the earth They all formed a layer of frost and snow, and just before the final battle started, a seemingly invisible cold wind blew across the battlefield. At the moment of the cold wind, everyone's ears appeared like shadows. same voice.

Shadowmoon Clan...Ner'zhul...Join the Judgment!

The moment this sound appeared, Tyrande, the high priest of the moon who had just seriously injured the demon assassin Akali, suddenly raised her head. She could feel that a terrifying spirit body appeared in the form of will incarnation. On this battlefield, even she felt trembling because of the pervasive death of that spirit body.

For other people on the battlefield, a layer of dark mist has completely enveloped this area, and no one can see what happened in the mist.

In the name of Draenor orc civilization...brothers, the curse of the blood will end tonight, and the orcs will be truly free...just tonight...

The root of all evil, the beginning of calamity, is here... come, brothers, for its past sins... tear it apart!

The moment the Destroyer Maronus started the last battle of his life, he raised his head as if feeling something. This ugly and ferocious demon had already sensed that it was doomed tonight, but what it couldn't figure out was... Who is in charge of all this?

And just when it looked up, it saw... all of this, the mastermind behind it.

The great lord Tyrion sat on the throne where the power of death gathered. On the night sky, he crossed his legs very relaxedly, leaned against the back of the throne, put his left hand on the armrest, tapped his fingers lightly, Terry Ang Bing's blue eyes looked at the destroyer below, and there was calmness and indifference in those eyes, as if looking down on a god in the world.

He casually threw the wine glass filled with fine wine in his right hand to the ground, as if saying goodbye to a corpse.

boom

The wine glass full of fine wine shattered at this moment, and the deep sound was like the last evening bell... ringing.

Mannoroth, Destroyer...

Good night...