Hurried footsteps came from outside the door.
"It's not safe for you to leave an Orcs in your house." The speaker was a man with a strong voice.
"Listen, Drak, Orcs are kind and benevolent. If you knew Orcs as well as I do, you wouldn't think that way," Taretha retorted.
Lieutenant Drak, one of Blackmoore's Adjutants and one of Taretha's suitors, was usually gentle and refined, but now he was as frantic as a raging lion.
"Don't listen to the Peace Dove's propaganda; you don't understand Orcs at all. Hopefully, it's not too late." Drak drew his longsword, ready for action.
Taretha's face flushed red, and she angrily pushed open the door. "I really don't understand why you hate Orcs so much. I love Orcs more than anything! Good heavens, this is..."
On the bed, blood gushed from Falarin's neck as he cried helplessly, while Aiguleiya was tearing at his flesh.
"Orcs, prepare to die!" Lieutenant Drak, his eyes bloodshot, raised his sword and slashed at Aiguleiya.
Falarin is not dead yet; if he is taken to the Priest for treatment in time, he might still be saved.
Unexpectedly, Taretha turned around and stood in front of the sword.
"If you want to kill him, you'll have to step over my dead body." Taretha spread her arms, facing the sharp sword.
In the cramped cabin, Lieutenant Drak couldn't get around Taretha and shouted anxiously, "Get out of the way! He's eating your brother, your own brother!"
"I know," Taretha said, biting her lip. "Ever since joining the Peace Dove, I've sworn to Consecration everything for the Orcs, including my own family. To be eaten by Orcs is an honor."
"Are you crazy? What are you thinking?" Drak angrily brandished his sword, but he couldn't bring himself to strike the woman he loved.
Terrified, Aiguleiya quickly bit off Falarin's neck and jumped out of the window to escape.
"Orcs, you will pay the price." Seeing that Falarin was already lifeless, Drak drew his sword and was about to give chase.
Unexpectedly, Taretha hugged him tightly from behind, shouting, "I can't let you hurt the Orcs! No! They are the Saviors of Azeroth! You have no right to!"
"You crazy woman!" Drak struggled to break free from Taretha, but Aiguleiya was nowhere to be found.
Drak chased after the Orcs, so he returned. "Wake up, Taretha, your brother has been eaten by that Orcs."
Taretha smoothed her messy hair. "Falarin is a good boy; he'll definitely be happy to be Orcs food."
Drak sighed helplessly, "Your brain must be fried, poor Falarin."
Aiguleiya had been running all day, and he hadn't forgotten where the Orgrimmar group had gone, so he ran in the opposite direction from them, which was the northwest.
As night fell, Aiguleiya was exhausted. Not far away, a campfire burned, marking a small campsite.
They appeared to be a group of adventurers, including Orcs, short Goblins, burly Dwarves, and so on.
The aroma of bread wafted from the fire, Aiguleiya hesitated whether to approach, but the Dwarf warmly invited him in.
"Hey, homeless person, come this way."
Aiguleiya struggled internally for a moment, the pain Orgrim had inflicted on him still vivid in his mind.
But hunger eventually overcame everything, and they cautiously approached.
The Dwarf took a piece of toast from the fire, broke off a slice, and handed it to Aiguleiya.
Only after seeing the Dwarf eat the remaining half did Aiguleiya dare to put it in his mouth.
"We are merchants," said the Goblin in the group. "We trade with the Warsong Clan of Grom Hellscream."
One of the Orcs said, "Grommash Hellscream is a generous Warchief who traded precious herbs for our food."
Aiguleiya listened attentively to their conversation, which was filled with praise for Grommash Hellscream.
"Have you heard of Orgrim Doomhammer?" Aiguleiya asked tentatively.
The Dwarf scoffed and replied, "A notorious traitor among the Orcs, a vicious and treacherous fellow. No Orcs likes him."
The Goblin shrieked, "Orgrim! Good heavens, how dare you mention him! My companion tried to sell him his goods, and he ate him alive!"
Aiguleiya breathed a sigh of relief. These people's fair evaluation of Orgrim Doomhammer proved that Grom Hellscream's reputation was indeed genuine.
"Actually, I've come to seek refuge with Grom Hellscream. Could you please introduce me?" Aiguleiya asked, already realizing that it would be difficult for a lone Orcs to survive in the wild.
An Orcs shouted, "Hey, stranger, Grommash Hellscream only trusts the Warsong Clan. Getting him to take you in won't be easy."
"Unless you're famous," the Goblin added. "Like that Arena champion from Durnholde, what's his name again?"
"Aiguleiya!" the Dwarf said. "I've heard he's even taller than Ogre, and can kill Mammoth with one punch."
Aiguleiya smiled but remained silent.
The Goblin said politely, "If you want to try your luck at Grommash Hellscream's, we can help you. The merciful Grommash Hellscream will never make things difficult for you."
Aiguleiya felt relieved and began to imagine how to please Grommash Hellscream, then build his own power, gradually undermine him, and finally take his place.
Karazhan's library has many books on political intrigue, Aiguleiya occasionally flips through while cleaning the library and finds very helpful.
At night, Aiguleiya leaned against a tree and fell asleep. Just as dawn was breaking, something woke him up. He struggled to open his eyes and found eight Orcs beside him.
The caravan from last night was gone, and eight Orcs were watching him menacingly.
"Are you the Warsong Clan?" Aiguleiya asked cautiously, noting that their attire differed from Orgrim's group.
The lead Orcs leaned closer, scrutinizing him closely, then grinned, "That's right, we are the Warsong Clan. You want to see our chieftain?"
Aiguleiya nodded. "I am Aiguleiya, the champion of Durnholde."
"Oh, oh." The leading Orcs was not surprised and introduced himself, "My name is Iska, advisor to Warchief Grommash Hellscream. I can take you to see the Warchief, but I'll have to trouble you a little."
The Orcs stepped forward and bound Aiguleiya tightly.
Iska patted him on the shoulder and said, "Chief Grommash Hellscream loves making friends, I bet you two will get along well."
A black cloth blindfolded Aiguleiya's eyes, and he was practically carried along by eight Orcs.
We are about to meet Grom Hellscream, the Warchief who has never yielded to his enemies.
The thick layer of pine needles beneath his feet transformed into a hard stone ground. Aiguleiya heard the sound of Flowing Water and realized he had arrived underground.
The group stopped, removed the blindfolds from their eyes, Aiguleiya blinked hard, adjusting to the dim light.
A huge cave, the ground littered with white animal bones, and a nauseating stench wafted through the air.
It smells like Orcs.
On the wide stone bed lay an Orcs with long black hair, his thunderous snoring deafening, a blood-stained Battle Axe beside him.
Eight Orcs stood cautiously to one side, not daring to even breathe loudly.
Without a doubt, Grom Hellscream must be on the stone bed. Aiguleiya looked on with envy and secretly swore an oath.
"If I achieve success and fame one day, I will make others wait for me."