Looking back, many people who should have died in battle were unknowingly saved by Duque.
Without Duque, Turalyon would have counterattacked Draenor after the second Dark Portal and disappeared with the big explosion. Nine out of ten, he was dead.
If Kaliya was not hidden, then Kaliya, who had completely lost hope in life, would have chosen to live in seclusion after the fall of Rotterdam. The scattered people of Rotterdam would have fought for themselves and composed a sad and touching death war song:
The crazy Scarlet Crusade would have been born.
Saidan Dathrohan's body would have been taken by the Dreadlord and harmed everywhere.
Abbendis would have died tragically in Hearth Valley.
Alexandros Mograine would have been even more tragic. He would have been killed by his own son, Reynold. Bewitched by the Dreadlord who pretended to be Saidan Dathrohan, Reynold deceived his father and let Old Mograine fall into the trap of the Scourge Army. Reynold picked up the [Ashbringer] and killed his biological father.
Although Old Mograine was responsible for Reynold's downfall, patricide had always been one of the deepest sorrows since ancient times.
There was also Queen Sylvie. At this point in history, she was already a Banshee of Death. She was bound by Arthas like a dog. Instead of having bright skin and a hearty and proud expression, she could still be alive and kicking by his side.
Thinking that this might be the end of the world, Duque let out a long sigh and secretly swore in his heart. Damn it, Archimonde, you must die!
Duke's inadvertent expression of great pressure was seen by the two Queens at the same time.
Jaina's eyes turned. Just as she was thinking of something, she caught a glimpse of the fireworks pinned to her chest armor.
Yes! It was a small white fireworks used for funerals.
She deliberately pinned it there to remind her of the vengeance of her father and brother.
Jaina pursed her lips. When Sylvanas caught up with Duque, Jaina was still half a step too slow.
But …
She did not regret it.
At this moment, Mount Hyjal had become a huge pre-war construction site.
At the foot of the mountain, the elves who were watching felt their hearts aching as they watched the crude Orc laborers chopping down the hundred-year-old trees with great effort. They used the thick trunks of the trees as the pillars of the huge blockhouses, and sharpened the smaller branches and inserted them into the ground, facing the foot of the mountain, to serve as antlers.
One after another, archer towers in the style of orcs rose from the ground. Tall and slender trolls nimbly climbed up the towers. They took a large piece of metal from the goblins and stuffed it outside the arrow tower to act as a shield for themselves. Then, they arranged the javelins provided by the humans in a position that was convenient for them to reach. The spearhead, which was made of fine steel, shone brightly in the dusk.
At the mountain pass, the wide ground on both sides was surrounded by wooden stakes and thick ropes. There were signs in all kinds of languages stuck on them, and there were even pictures of goblins scribbled on them.
Holding his beloved axe, Bloodhowl, Grom muttered, "Thrall, I don't trust those dwarves at all. Although their skin is also green, look, since noon, those idiots have already blown up more than a dozen of their own people. "
Thrall patted the shoulder of this senior who had narrowly escaped death. "Grom. First, it wasn't the Orcs, trolls, or taurens who died. Second, they aren't even afraid of death, so why should we worry for them … "
Before Sal could finish speaking, there was a loud "Boom!" sound.
At least half a dozen goblins were blown into the sky and then disintegrated into green and red parts, scattering evenly on the ground within a radius of a hundred meters.
Then, the nearby goblins all gaped as they watched their companions succeed in courting death as if they were watching fireworks. Some even whistled.
There was no need for the Orcs to criticize them. A goblin sitting on a thick metal robot that was as tall as three people picked up the metal loudspeaker and cursed. His sharp and unpleasant voice could be heard within a radius of hundreds of meters.
"Frank! I told you! Don't let those idiots go to where we buried the mines! And — I repeat, don't eat a cigar when burying the mines!! "
The goblins below looked at their boss with puzzled and amused expressions.
The goblin flipped out. "Bastard! Who dares to not listen to me? Half of your wages will be deducted! "
This time, the goblins below all seemed to have been ruthlessly whipped. They all obeyed as if they were facing a great enemy.
On the other side, Grom slapped his forehead. His expression was clearly telling Thrall — Look!
Thrall couldn't help but bare his teeth. But then he changed the topic. "But … if this world has a future, I will consider recruiting goblins into the tribe."
"Ah?!" Even someone as bold as Grom couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice.
Thrall took out two axes from the box beside him.
One was an incomparably crude stone axe made from sharp stones and thick branches.
The other was a steel axe that emitted a cold light. It was obvious that it was a killing weapon.
"One is what we can make now, and the other is what the humans just gave us. You know what I'm trying to say. "
Grom was silent.
He was most aware of the backwardness of the Orcs in the field of forging and metallurgy. In the ten years of living in the Forest of Tirisfal, an axe forged by the Dark Iron Dwarves, even if it had been chipped countless times, was still a treasure in the eyes of the Orc soldiers.
The most exaggerated thing was that this axe had changed owners for a total of fifteen times, and it had never been eliminated.
Why?
Compared to the stone axes and hammers that were easily broken by humans, the sturdy dwarven products were, of course, more trustworthy.
In the end, wasn't this the backwardness of technology? The backwardness of civilization?
Backwardness meant being beaten. This was inevitable!
Wo Jin came up and dispelled Grom's last hope with one sentence. "The Trolls have spent eight thousand years to prove that using flesh and blood to fight against a higher civilization would lead to a tragic end. The Lordaeron continent that you ravaged fourteen years ago, the capitals of the human kingdoms that you destroyed, were all once the territory of the Amani Troll Empire. "
Grom no longer raised any objections.
Thrall set the tone for this matter. "We'll talk about those things later. Right now, the Burning Legion is our real enemy. We are not fighting for the Alliance at this moment, but for the survival of the tribe. Since Duke Marcus has treated us with sincerity, we must return the favor of a warrior. "
"Understood!" Several tribal leaders answered in unison.
However, looking at the noisy goblins, Thrall was thoughtful.
Late at night, the tribes at the foot of the mountain and the Alliance on the mountainside were still preparing for war all night under the lights.
Duque suddenly received an urgent call from Sylvanas.
"Second Sister is in a hurry! Come quickly! "Lilas nervously informed Duque.
Who knew, as soon as he entered Queen Sylvia's tent, Duque's knee was hit by an arrow.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
