It was useless.
The Orcs who had never seen the terrifying technology and war machines of the Alliance would never know how terrifying it would be when the Alliance became the enemy of the tribe.
"So what if I have changed? I only know that I have lost the Devil's Blood. I am just a laborer who can be abandoned by the tribe at any time. But with it, I am a strong person who will be afraid of anyone who sees me! Hahahaha! "
Gurtug Splithammer was a laborer of the Blood Furnace. His father had been a famous centurion in the tribe. Back then, Gurtug, who was still very young, worshipped his father. He had dreamed more than once that he was like his father, leading his compatriots across the Dark Portal, and following the great chief Blackhand to conquer the World of Azeroth on the other side of the portal.
Sal suddenly felt his heart palpitate, but his sense of responsibility as a great chief still drove him to carry this uneasiness and discomfort and continue to lead the tribe forward.
He longed for power, not as a chief who could be abandoned at any time, but as the power of a warrior. The power that his parents could not give him, and only the blood of the Devil could give him.
"Evil Orc! You need to clear your head! " Kane charged forward, and the totem pole that was as thick as the beam of a house was smashed towards Gurtug's head.
Unfortunately, Gurtug's dream was shattered.
This was originally a great opportunity to kill Old Cow, but Gurtug disdained it.
Old Cow sank into eight seconds of thinking about life.
Sal's face was as black as ink.
It was not just one or two people. To a large extent, all the Orcs received from Draenor were like this.
"Bang —" Two extremely fast shadows converged at one point on the steps. Two tall and burly bodies collided, completing a confrontation of pure strength and anger.
What am I going to do?
Gurtug, on the other hand, resisted the dizziness by relying on the strong physique that he had obtained from the Devil's Blood.
Gurtug laughed, and his laughter was full of desolation. "My father responded to the great chief's call and died in the World of Azeroth. I don't mind this. At least when my father died, he was a true warrior. I just want to ask, as a great chief of a tribe that even relies on the Alliance for food, what right do you have to ask me to surrender? "
Every time he awoke from the echoes of his midnight dreams, the harsh reality still reminded him that he was just a laborer doing manual labor.
"You …" Orgrim wanted to cut someone up.
Orgrim was a Forgotten One.
Kane was not immune to the [Confusion] status that followed.
"I am Saar, the son of the former chief of the Frostwolf Tribe, Durotan. I am the current chief of the tribe and the leader of all orcs! Now, in the name of the Great Chieftain, I order you to surrender immediately. All the evil deeds you have participated in will no longer be pursued. Moreover, after purifying the demonic blood in your body, you will be given a corresponding position according to your strength. "
This powerful attack was forcefully withstood by Kane's Mount Hyjal grade plate armor.
If it was an ordinary person, perhaps they would have been shaken senseless by this collision.
Gurtug's body, which had been greatly strengthened by his dark powers, only needed to raise his left arm, which was covered in spikes, to block Kane's probing attack.
Orgrim hurriedly shouted: "Great Chief, there's no need to explain to this madman. If I want to explain, I'll do it after I beat this guy up and feed him holy water. "
Saar sighed. "The world has changed."
Saar was an amiable leader. He could reconcile the relationship between the various races. However, his human-like side made him lack dominance. In the eyes of many traditional orcs, he was weak and easy to bully.
Who am I?
His father, the Blackhand Chief, and millions of strong orc warriors were buried on the other side of the door.
However, a lowly laborer like him might never become a candidate for the Fel Orcs.
Where am I?
It was this extremely low success rate that drove more orcs to willingly become Fel Orcs, willing to become the Burning Legion's minions.
Admittedly, the general policy he set for the tribe was correct. However, this policy was destined to not be understood by the traditional orcs.
A true warrior of the tribe would not stoop so low as to ambush a defenseless enemy.
The Tauren Chief Kane raised his neck high. He used his thick voice to let out a battle roar. The shocking sound echoed in the dark palace.
He felt like he was about to explode. Saliva dripped from his mouth and dripped onto the ground. He shook his head and felt his consciousness gradually blurring. He looked up and found his father standing in front of him. A human officer had raised a sword and cut his father in half. Gurtug made a muffled sound in his throat and pounced on the human officer. Blood flowed from his eyes and dyed his vision red.
Without giving Kane any time to react, he raised his axe high and used [Chaos Strike], hitting Kane's body like lightning.
He abandoned the old bull and charged at Saar.
From that day onwards, Gurtug began to enjoy the glory of power. His former compatriots feared him, the orcs who had become Fel Orcs bowed to him, and even the self-proclaimed noble demons showed fear in front of him.
At the same time, Orgrim also used [Charge] on him.
So one night, he snuck into the laboratory where the Fel Orcs were made and drank all the drinkable liquid in every bottle. He didn't know what was going to happen. He only felt that every inch of his skin was burning. Energy was surging in his body, but he couldn't vent it.
Gurtug was very happy, even though he knew that he was Illidan's test subject and lackey.
Three days later, Gurtug was sent to Illidan's Black Temple as the "most successful Fel Orc sample". He was covered in thick armor. The nameplate on the armor was engraved with a few twisted Eredar words – Gurtug Bloodboil!
Saar was silent for a full three seconds before he said loudly, "Take care of him!"
Until this day, when Saar stood in front of him.
"Haha! If you don't have food, go steal it! If you don't have territory, go steal it! If you can't steal it, go die! This is the tribe! This is the orc! To become a human's dog for a mouthful of food! Bah! This is not the tribe I know! "
His [Crescent Slash] drew a bloody red arc in the air and collided with Orgrim's weapon.
Not everyone would fall into tragedy because of the forbidden power. There would always be people who benefited.
However, that was just his imagination. He pounced on nothing and hit his head on the wall, fainting.
His physique and height were weaker than that of an official warrior. It was destined that he would never be able to officially become an Orc warrior in this life.
What was worse was that their poor wisdom and knowledge, coupled with their deep-rooted mindset, made them refuse to recognize the reality of the situation.
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