Life with cheats was so empty, lonely, and cold.
Of course!
Duque was speechless as he looked at the guy in front of him who was wearing a big brown cloak. His name was Mysterious Prophet X, which was also known as Medivh.
Damn it!
He was so used to being a charlatan that he almost forgot that there was an Azeroth charlatan, Medivh, here.
Duque was also speechless about Medivh.
Before the third battle of the Dark Portal, Medivh was a scam. Not only did he open the Dark Portal after being possessed, he even left a huge mess for the entire alliance to deal with.
However, before the third battle began, Medivh had predicted, or perhaps seen, the arrival of the Calamity Army. Regardless of whether he saw the incurable disease of the Rotterdam Kingdom or something else, he had informed several important people that the Rotterdam Kingdom was hopeless, and that they should escape if they didn't want to be on the sinking ship.
In the Eastern Kingdom, he had at least perfectly convinced Thrall, who wanted to strategically evacuate from the Rotterdam Kingdom, and Jaina, who had nowhere to go.
In this life, he had at least made the Iron Furnace Castle and Stormwind City more actively prepare for war. If they didn't prepare for war in advance, how could Stormwind City send troops to the South Sea City-State within a week?
Don't even think about it!
Even though Duque had promoted the development of a lot of advanced technology, such as railway transportation, it would take at least two weeks to gather the food needed for the army.
However, since Medivh was such a charlatan, why didn't he think of a way to hide a few Paladins in the Rotterdam Kingdom when the fool returned to the Rotterdam Kingdom?
At that time, Second Fool had not completely fallen. With his half-baked Death Knight skills, if Uther, Mograine, Saidan, and the other macho men were all there, it would be a group of Holy Knights surrounding Arthas and using Holy Light 'small hammers' to hammer his chest.
Even if the fool had F-cup chest muscles, he would still be hammered to an A-.
On the other hand, Duque was convinced by Medivh's ability to persuade the Night Elves, Orcs, and humans to join forces.
The appearance of the Medivh stunned the people of the tribe. Then Sal took the lead. They all punched their chests and bowed. "Greetings, Prophet!"
Duque was speechless at the formality of their etiquette.
It was understandable. To the tribe, Medivh was definitely a great benefactor. Without Medivh's reminder, the Horde might not have risen up so quickly. If it was too late, the Horde would have been devoured by the Calamity Army, or they would have been used as cannon fodder by the Alliance. The Orc Slave Legion would have been forced to fight against the sea of zombies.
How could it compare to jumping out of the Alliance's traditional sphere of influence and opening a new city in a new continent?
If the tribe was given a few more years to stabilize themselves, they would be able to compete with the Alliance.
Duque was very unhappy about this.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do. Medivh had such a heavy taste. Oh, it was universal love! He actually got together with the female Orc, Garona, and even gave birth to a mixed-blood Titan, Orc, and human, Medivh.
Duque was already giving him face by not calling Medivh a traitor.
Alright, whether or not a traitor was a traitor would be up to the later generations of historians to judge. Duque couldn't care less. He couldn't split the Burning Legion when they were facing a great enemy.
Seeing Medivh, Duque also bowed.
"Ah! Duque! Seeing you again, I'm sure both of us have complicated feelings. " Medivh sighed. Once upon a time, Duque was just a small magic apprentice. He had outstanding talent, but was very far from the Breaking Dawn level.
Duque was so close to becoming Medivh's disciple. Although he didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse.
The last time they met, he was already on the verge of death. Apart from some important instructions, he didn't say anything else. Who knew that after 15 years, the brat from back then would become the pillar of the Alliance today.
Medivh walked over and sighed again. "Duque, you did well. I'm very pleased. If the Alliance didn't have you, the situation would be a hundred times worse. But I think that since you sent an emissary to warn the Night Elves, you should agree with my plan to unite the Night Elves, the Alliance, and the Horde to deal with the most powerful and terrifying enemy — the Archerons! "
Duque shrugged. "With you there, I feel that sending Rhonin was unnecessary."
Medivh shook his head. "No, with the Alliance's emissary as proof, as well as the magic fragments you sent Rhonin. I managed to convince Tyrande three days faster than I expected. With the Burning Legion able to reach Kalimdor at any time, even an hour is precious, let alone a day. "
"But even if the Night Elves don't pursue the matter of Grom killing Cenarius, the Horde won't abandon our compatriots!" Saar's words were immediately echoed by the other Beastmen.
"Yes! We Beastmen won't abandon any of our compatriots! "Leksa raised his axe.
"We won't sit by and watch as the Warsong Tribe is destroyed," Varrock replied.
"Is there no way to save Grom?" Brock and the other Beastmen shouted.
Medivh frowned. "I can teach you a magic formation that can purify the demon blood in the Warsong Beastmen. But I've already lost most of my magic, so … "
Duque took the initiative. "I'll set up the magic formation. Then what?"
Medivh looked at Saar, Duque, and the others. "We have to make sure that Grom isn't injured as much as possible, and it's best if he's conscious when he enters the magic formation. The more heavily injured he is, or if he's unconscious, the weaker his willpower will be. The more corrosive the demon blood will be to his soul and body. After all, this isn't the first time he's drunk demon blood. If it gets worse this time, he'll never be able to get rid of the demon blood addiction. "
Saar and the others were suffering.
Even though Grom Hellscream was a little old now, he was still the undisputed number one warrior of the entire tribe. This wasn't a title he'd given himself; it was a battle record he'd earned.
Along the way, Leksa, Varrock, Brock, and the others who didn't use pets were no match for Grom!
As a hero of the older generation, Grom knew very well that a wise leader was needed to lead the tribe in times of crisis. Thus, he was like a door god, blocking all the Beastmen's path of challenging Saar with Makgora.
He was so strong that Saar had originally prepared for a group of strong Beastmen to knock Grom out with hammers and drag him back. Even so, there was only a fifty percent chance of success. No one knew how ferocious Grom would be after drinking the devil's blood again.
Now he was saying that they couldn't knock him out or seriously injure him. What could they do?
The Beastmen were all dumbfounded.
"Let me go," Duque suddenly said.
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