The Pit Lord Mannoroth was preoccupied with worries.
Why bother with all this trouble to reach Azeroth thirty-five years in the future?
Mannoroth had reservations about the Dark Portal under construction.
As the commander of the Burning Legion's Vanguard Legion, Mannoroth was a man of great knowledge and experience, and he knew all too well that disrupting spacetime was a major taboo in the universe.
Archimonde said this gave them a reason to destroy Azeroth.
Garrosh, who did not belong to this era, stood out in Mannoroth's eyes, Mannoroth had tested him more than once.
Through Garrosh, Mannoroth learned about the history of the Orcs in Parallel Timeline, and the tragic end of their leader, Archimonde.
Upon hearing this news, Archimonde fell into a rare silence, and finally asked a question.
Who saved Garrosh during the Battle of Battle of Orgrimmar?
Upon learning that it was the Prophet Velen, Archimonde's face darkened, and he warned Mannoroth to find a way to extricate himself immediately and avoid being implicated.
Seeing the Orcs chieftains in disarray from afar, Mannoroth, lost in thought, ignored them and remained silent, gesturing with his eyes for Gul'dan to take the lead in the meeting.
Gul'dan directed the Warlocks to bring over a large barrel filled with the Blood of Mannoroth. When the lid was opened, a foul stench filled the air, and a dense aura of Fel energy permeated the air.
Just one breath was enough to make the chiefs feel refreshed and full of energy, each one eager to try it out, like cats that had smelled fish.
Gul'dan scooped a cup of Blood of Mannoroth into a wooden goblet, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the chieftains:
Who is willing to be the first to accept this great honor?
Several chieftains stepped forward at the same time, but were pushed aside by the stronger Grom Hellscream, who then carried Gorehowl towards Gul'dan.
Grom took the cup, feeling the rich Fel energy within it. His Gronn Heart pounded violently in his chest, yearning for this powerful force.
I really want to drink it all in one gulp!
Grom resisted the temptation, pretending to turn his face away and deliberately making a disgusted expression.
Gul'dan found it strange and whispered a word of advice:
"Drink, Grommash Hellscream! This is the Destiny of the Orcs; you will all be kings."
Grom glanced furtively at Garrosh, whose face was covered, not far away, then leaned closer to Gul'dan and asked:
"But, Gul'dan, what will be the price?"
Gul'dan was very puzzled, because among the many chieftains of the Orcs, Grom clearly desired the Blood of Mannoroth the most.
Asking a question you already know the answer to.
Gul'dan was furious. In front of all the chieftains, he pulled back his cloak, revealing a ferocious face:
"All of this."
According to the Orcs' aesthetic standards, the more ferocious the face, the more handsome it is.
Having already drunk the Blood of Mannoroth, Gul'dan's face was contorted, his eyes were red, and he looked like Demons. He was one of the few handsome men among the Orcs.
Having witnessed Gul'dan's true form, the surrounding chieftains gasped in amazement, wishing they could immediately drink the Blood of Mannoroth.
Grom's gaze tightened slightly, showing strong resistance, and he was about to say something.
A powerful Fel energy gathered around him; Gul'dan unleashed terrifying Fel, Grom's body stiffened, unable to move.
Gul'dan shouted loudly in front of everyone:
"Look, Grom Hellscream, you've successfully transplanted a Gronn's heart, one of the most powerful Warriors among the Orcs, but before the great Fel, you are nothing."
Gul'dan snatched Grom's cup, released the Magic Binding, and Grom knelt weakly on the ground, breathing heavily.
"Grom Hellscream, I ask you one more time, are you willing to accept this great honor?"
Grom turned his head slightly and glanced at Garrosh again.
Garrosh nodded.
Grom took the wooden cup, stared into Gul'dan's eyes, then turned the cup around and poured Blood of Mannoroth onto the ground.
The Orcs chieftains cried out in alarm almost simultaneously.
Gul'dan was only slightly taken aback, a slight smile playing on his lips, his claw-like hands moving as he prepared a powerful spell.
He wanted to punish Grom with the harshest punishment, to make him regret ever being born.
Gul'dan then noticed that his Fel energy was being Pain Suppression, so he quickly looked up while cautiously backing away.
The Pit Lord Mannoroth appeared behind Grom, letting out a mocking laugh:
"You dare refuse this favor?"
Grom gripped Gorehowl tightly, turned sharply, and confronted Mannoroth's towering figure.
Mannoroth paced back and forth a few steps, hesitating whether he should take the opportunity to escape and abandon this body, but before that, he had to kill this despicable Orcs.
Mannoroth brandished his War Glaive, pointed at the Orcs chieftains around him, and roared:
"Did you bring these scum here to your funeral?"
"It's none of our business!"
The chieftains, their faces contorted with anger, glared at Grom. With a great battle looming, they scattered and fled.
Mannoroth exerted a powerful pressure on Grom, causing his legs to go weak and making it almost impossible for him to stand. Instinctively, he threw away Gorehowl and turned to run without looking back.
"Coward!"
Just as Mannoroth was about to give chase, a thunderous roar of cannons erupted in the distance, and countless sparks flew towards them.
Garrosh waved his torch, positioning the Artillery Corps.
Many shells hit their targets, and deafening explosions rang out. As the smoke cleared, Mannoroth was unharmed and sneered:
"Is this all you're relying on? With this piece of junk? You pathetic Orcs, you probably don't know the power of Star Destroyer. Just one shell is enough to turn the entire Tanaan Jungle into a sea of fire, with Lava flowing everywhere, while I can move freely through the Lava and Flames unscathed."
Suddenly, a feeling of unease welled up inside me.
Mannoroth looked up abruptly, but the vast night and the pitch-black sky offered no respite.
But the Abyss Demons's innate senses told him that a mysterious Starship had already locked onto him.
"Who is it?" Mannoroth asked.
No matter how many times Demons Abyss, its soul can be reborn in the Void; it only needs to reshape its physical body.
However, there are several methods that can directly kill their souls.
Taking a deep breath, Mannoroth knew it was too late to kill the fleeing Orcs, so he quickly removed his magical defenses and prepared to self-destruct.
Whoosh!
Dozens of crossbow bolts with chains flew at once, and several of them hit their target, piercing Mannoroth's wings.
A large horde of Orcs Death Squad appeared, pushing carts laden with bombs, charging recklessly toward Mannoroth.
Mannoroth was already planning to withdraw and didn't care about any of this.
Rumble.
A huge mushroom cloud rose into the sky, and a large crater was blasted where Mannoroth was standing.
Once the dust had settled, Garrosh cautiously stepped forward and picked up Gorehowl from the dust.
"Next!"
Grom, trembling, hid behind a large rock. Only after Mannoroth self-destructed did he dare to step out and catch Gorehowl.
History will remember you, Grom Hellscream, for you killed Mannoroth with your own hands.
Garrosh comforted the ashen-faced Grom Grommash Hellscream.
Gul'dan, leaning on his staff, arrived at the spot where Mannoroth had self-destructed, and muttered to himself in confusion:
"This shouldn't be the Destiny of Orcs."
Garrosh removed the cloth covering his face and sneered, "Times have changed, Gul'dan."
Gul'dan frowned. "It's you. We've met before."
The Shadow Council Warlocks surrounded the place. Gul'dan sized up Garrosh and grinned maliciously:
I haven't forgotten, you are my food.