Even when facing Kazak and the other demon leaders on Mount Hyjal, Brock had never retreated.
He was undoubtedly a hero. When facing Kazak and the twin demon lords, he had been ordered to stop the demon commandos who were trying to help their leaders.
At that time, he had wielded his warhammer and fought bravely. When his last comrade was split in half by a gargoyle before reinforcements could arrive, he had avenged his comrade by smashing the gargoyle with his hammer.
Then, there was only silence all around.
When Sal arrived with his army, Brock's figure, covered in scars and standing alone in a pool of blood, had left a deep impression on Sal.
In Sal's opinion, Brock's name should be almost as respectable as his own.
His early exit from the battle against the Archerons had ruined what should have been a perfect honor.
However, Sal had chosen him not only because of his strength and experience. More importantly, Sal knew Brock's loyalty.
Sal couldn't send an army for this kind of mission that involved traveling through time and space. He needed a confidant who was strong enough to complete this mission for him.
That should have been the case, but a fellow who gave Sal a headache appeared.
A burly and ferocious figure rushed into Sal's tent and picked up Nozdormu's dragon scale without a word. Then, he passed the test in just ten seconds.
Sal's mouth was full of bitterness. "For the sake of my ancestors, don't make things difficult for me … Grom Hellscream!"
Lord Howl panted heavily. He didn't look at Sal, but instead looked at the elf-looking Krasus. "I heard that Duque will go too."
When Krasus said the word "yes!", Sal's head hurt.
"Then I'll go too!" Lord Howl was resolute and unquestionable.
"The tribe needs you more," Sal tried to explain.
"What do you need me to do? Kill those demons who are running around like frightened rabbits? Or kill Arthas for the humans' revenge? I heard that the Alliance cut Arthas in half at the waist last time. "Grom's voice grew louder.
"Grom, don't forget that you're the chief of the Warsong clan."
Grom slapped his chest with a loud "Bam!"
"I am first and foremost a warrior, and I am an old warrior. I've lived longer than my father and my grandfather combined. In the tribe, a guy of my age would have died many times already. Do you want me to watch Duque go on a dangerous mission, and then accidentally die in the mission? Do you want me to go see the ancestors with regret that I owe Duque my life? I don't want to die owing a human a favor! Even if he is a hero worthy of respect! "
Grom's words made so much sense that Sal was speechless.
From Draenor to Azeroth, because of the war and the harsh environment, the infant mortality rate had always been high. Although there were no official statistics, it was an indisputable fact that the average age of Beastmen rarely exceeded 30 years old.
Most of the Orcs who had lived for a long time were Shamans who did not need to go to the battlefield.
Whether it was Brock or Grom, they were like living fossils who had experienced the Draenei War, the first and second Battle of the Dark Portal, the Dalajan War against the Scourge, and the Battle of Mount Hyjal. It was a miracle!
Even the strongest warrior of the tribe, Grom Hellscream, was no longer young. He was 50 years old this year.
50 years old! This was an extremely ridiculous age for an Orc warrior.
Sal sighed.
"Sal! Don't try to persuade me! If my son is still alive, he'll be in his twenties. Other than Duque's kindness, I have no regrets in this life! "
At this moment, Brock took a step forward. Sal noticed that Brock's fists were clenched even tighter.
Brock's blazing eyes told Sal that since he had passed this test, he was willing to fight until his death.
Sal might not know that Brock was still suffering from a deep sense of guilt. This guilt had almost swallowed his soul.
His comrades were all dead, and only Brock was left. He did not understand. At the same time, he felt very guilty. Why did he not die bravely with his comrades? To him, living was a kind of regret, even a kind of failure. Since then, he had been waiting for a chance to atone for his sins. To atone for his sins, even to die.
Now, fate had finally given him this chance.
How could he give up such a chance just because Grom's status was higher?!
The two Orc heroes did not give an inch. This made it very difficult for Sal because Krasus had specified that only one person was needed.
Suddenly, Nozdormu's voice came from the piece of scale.
"Then send one more Orc."
"Ugh! Nozdorm … Your Majesty?! "Sal was shocked.
"It's okay. With my strength, it's not a big problem to send one more person back. At most, I'll torment Duque. Hehe! Who asked him to give me so much trouble … "
At the same time, back in front of the old Karazhan site on the Upwind Trail, Duque sneezed loudly.
"Ha Ju-"
"Did you catch a cold?" The two queens turned around at the same time and looked at Duque strangely.
"No, I seem to feel a wave of malice from a certain dragon. Please don't mind it. "
It was desolate. After the explosion of Karazhan 15 years ago, this place had become a barren scorched land. After the second battle at the Dark Portal, Duque had been busy opening up various black technology talents and had no time to care about the natural environment here.
Now that he had made contact with the Night Elves, Duque wondered if he could kidnap a Druid or trick Alexstrasza into helping him after Karazhan returned and turn this place into green mountains and clear waters.
After all, if Karazhan became his lair again, the surroundings would be too ugly. At least the three Windrunner sisters would not like to come here.
At this time, it seemed that the Orcs had reached an agreement.
Suddenly, a large piece of scorched land in front of Duque began to change color. In the blink of an eye, it turned into yellow quicksand. After a gust of wind blew the sand, a very small sand dragon appeared.
It was a small-sized Nozdorm.
"Give me the spatial coordinates." A telepathic thought went straight into Duque's mind, and Duque gave it without hesitation.
Then, a desert storm appeared out of nowhere and covered half of the valley.
Even Queen Scheer, who did not know magic, felt that the space was shaking violently. It was as if a small hole had opened in the tightly sealed sky. In the sandstorm, as the sand blew, a clearer silhouette appeared. The huge tower, the covered bridge, the spire …
That's right!
It was Karazhan!
When the huge mage tower returned to its original color in the vision of Duque and the others, the tall iron gate of the main gate was suddenly pulled shut, and a silver-haired figure shot out like an arrow.
The next moment, Duque was hugged by a slim female figure!
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.
