Something seems off.
Robbie couldn't pinpoint the source of his feelings; it was like a natural inference.
Memories flashed before my eyes.
Thrall tore pieces of the Elf ranger's flesh, blood dripping from his lips and teeth.
"Thrall wanted to skin Saurfang the Great alive and shouted that he would turn his skull into a chamber pot."
Medivh his dissatisfaction with Thrall and reprimanded him sternly.
All of this seemed to be telling Robbie that what happened today was probably unexpected.
Thrall strode forward, staring at Grom Hellscream:
"Old Orcs, your era has passed. You have grown old and senile, intoxicated by Demon Blood. Relinquish your power. Only under Thrall leadership, Thrall, can the Orcs achieve glory, conquer all of Azeroth, and devour all the flesh and blood in the world. Submit to me, you despicable and insignificant Grommash Hellscream."
"Hehe!"
Grommash Hellscream laughed Evil, his twisted Demon Blood causing his soul to begin to warp as well.
"After you've torn Azeroth apart, where will you go, Thrall?"
"To open the next Dark Portal and enter another world, we Orcs must relentlessly kill, relentlessly destroy, annihilate everything, devour everything, and expand like locusts. I have seen the truth: the universe is full of life, most of whom are harmless and docile lambs. Let us Orcs bring them pain and destruction. The universe belongs only to us Orcs."
"Well said. Your ideals are very gratifying; this is exactly what we Orcs should be doing. But you've forgotten one thing: your power comes from the Burning Legion, and you are acting in accordance with the Burning Legion's will."
Grom Hellscream's eyes flashed with a blinding red light, like those of Evil Orc Warlocks. He seemed to have bypassed Thrall and seen the Dreadlord standing behind Thrall.
"Destruction and slaughter are our Orcs instincts. We revel in the withering of life, we are intoxicated by the destruction of life, and we are obsessed with their agonizing screams and pleas for mercy. Civilization after civilization will perish before us Orcs, their flesh and blood becoming our sustenance. However, while we can utilize the power of the Burning Legion, we will never submit to them. The biggest difference between you and me is that the Warsong Clan will not become the Burning Legion's pawns. Orcs will never be slaves."
"Old Orcs, you're too old-fashioned."
Thrall shouted mockingly:
"Has the Demon Blood scrambled your brain? You have no idea what kind of power the Burning Legion wields. What we see is merely the tip of the iceberg. Why not submit to them for now? They might just take your place in the future."
Thrall made no attempt to hide his wolfish ambitions; such is the nature of Orcs. The Burning Legion leaders, who exploited the Orcs, valued precisely Orcs untamed nature.
"Ignorant descendants, the submission of one person brings only power and glory, but the submission of an entire Clans will lead us to utter ruin and make it impossible for us to extricate ourselves. Do not forget Gul'dan's lesson; we must abide by the ancient traditions of the Orcs."
"Grommash Hellscream, you who follow tradition are not suited to live in this chaotic world. Your shallow vision and foolish mind are unworthy of leading the Orcs race. You will lead your entire people into the Abyss of despair."
"Very good, very good."
Grom Hellscream brandished his Battle Axe:
"Let us prove with our strength whose choice is correct, and who is the qualified Orcs leader."
The duel between the two officially began.
Throughout the Clans history of the Orcs, the struggle for power has always been bloody and brutal.
Thrall's domineering aura caused Orgrimmar and Grommash Hellscream to prostrate themselves in worship—this only happens in the false history recorded by the Guardians.
A junior who wants to replace a senior has only two options: kill the senior or completely destroy their will.
Thrall gripped the Doomhammer tightly with both hands, staring intently at the old Orcs before him.
Grommash Hellscream, on the other hand, acted casually. He picked up a cup of Demon Blood bubbling with green bubbles and swallowed it in one gulp. Grommash Hellscream's eyes became even more terrifying. He danced on the Battlefield, waving his now more powerful arms, violently shaking his body, a look of ecstasy on his cruel face.
Thrall was unsure whether he should seize this opportunity to deal with an old Orcs in a Bloodlust state. Thrall felt a sense of unease. Just as Thrall hesitated, Grommash Hellscream calmed down.
"The battle has begun," Grommash Hellscream grinned maliciously.
Suddenly, a terrifying roar tore through the air, nearly rupturing Thrall's eardrums and almost stopping his heart.
It was Grom Grommash Hellscream's Hellroar. Among the Orcs, nothing could sway a person's will as powerfully as Grommash Hellscream's battle cry. Many Orcs in Thrall's army were knocked unconscious and collapsed to the ground.
Just as Thrall's mind wavered, Grommash Hellscream raised his head and chest, opened his blood-red maw, his jet-black jaws seemingly about to fall off, and bit down on Thrall's shoulder.
Grommash Hellscream's first strike didn't use the Battle Axe's Gorehowl; instead, he used his sharp teeth.
"What?"
Thrall was horrified. The sharp pain in his shoulder jolted him awake. Even more terrifying was that his arm had become limp and powerless, and he could barely hold the Doomhammer.
While tearing flesh apart, Grommash Hellscream also drained Thrall's strength. By replenishing himself with Demon Blood over a long period, Grommash Hellscream evolved an Evil ability to siphon life from his enemies.
"Your power is far too insignificant, Thrall."
Grommash Hellscream tore off a large chunk of Thrall's flesh and swallowed it forcefully, his bloodshot eyes filled with mockery.
"I never rely too much on my own strength. My mentor Drek'Thar once told me, 'Skills are not meant to be used.' Today, I'll show you the power hidden around you."
His stamina was dwindling, but thankfully his Elemental Power remained intact, and Thrall remembered that he was a Shaman.
A sudden Gale blew up Grommash Hellscream, and his massive body spun rapidly through the air.
A giant hand made of Lava reached out from the ground and firmly grasped Grommash Hellscream's strong body, while bolts of Lightning fell from the sky, mercilessly striking the old Orcs.
"Is this all the power you rely on? Young Thrall, you seem unremarkable," Grommash Hellscream mocked.
Grommash Hellscream's powerful body was emitting black smoke from many places, but these injuries would not make him give in.
"You have no idea how valuable this power is."
Seeing victory within his grasp, Thrall was overjoyed and felt it necessary to express his feelings to the dying man. He whispered in Grommash Hellscream's ear:
"Do you know why I'm called the Savior? I'm not saving Azeroth, but our Orcs homeland, Draenor, which is in a state of near destruction. I wield the power of earth, fire, water, and wind. I've devised a grand plan: I will gather a group of the Destroyers, deceive some ignorant fools, and establish a vast Shaman organization. I will channel the Elemental Power of Azeroth towards Draenor, after which Azeroth will become a forbidden zone for life, and our world will be reborn."
"A very good scheme. Now it's mine. And I must tell you, the battle has only just begun."
Grommash Hellscream a deep breath, then violently shook his powerful arms, breaking free from the shackles of the Lava Hand.
"I'm going to use Gorehowl, Thrall."
Grommash Hellscream's expression turned serious as he raised his Battle Axe to meet the stunned Thrall.