"Impossible! The great Grom Hellscream is a moral exemplar for Orcs. Orcs are kind and benevolent; how could they possibly harm anyone?"
Even after seeing it with her own eyes, the girl still didn't believe it.
Grommash Hellscream brandished the Gorehowl in his hand. "Look what this is!"
"Gorehowl, no one can take Gorehowl from Grommash Hellscream." The girl's eyes widened, and she forced a smile. "This must be a joke, right?"
"We Orcs never joke."
Grommash Hellscream seized a young human, biting through his neck and tearing flesh apart.
The sharp fangs tore the youth to pieces, leaving him covered in blood in a gruesome sight.
The sweet-looking girl fainted from fright, Grommash Hellscream on her calf, crushing it.
The girl, in pain, awoke from her unconsciousness and screamed loudly:
"No, no, this can't be real, it must be a nightmare, I don't believe it."
"Foolish humans, you deserve only to be food for Orcs." Grommash Hellscream, still not satisfied, grabbed the girl, ready to devour her.
Suddenly, a feeling of unease washed over me, as if a dangerous wild beast was approaching.
Grommash Hellscream hastily tossed aside the human girl, grabbed Gorehowl, and roared:
"Who is it? Show yourself!"
Blackmoore emerged from the shadows, followed by a large group of towering Elixir Orcs.
Grommash Hellscream saw a familiar figure and exclaimed:
"Orgrimmar Doomhammer, I knew you harbored ill intentions. What, do you wish to wage war against the Warsong Clan?"
On the ground, the newcomers of the Peace Dove were stunned, never expecting to encounter two great Orcs heroes on the Timeways.
Grommash Hellscream suddenly noticed that Orgrimmar had become much taller than before, a head taller than himself, and that his eyes looked strange.
"Orgrimmar, what's wrong with you? Have you become this human's slave?"
"Lies!" a newcomer to the Peace Dove exclaimed angrily. "The great Orgrimmar cannot be slaves to lowly humans."
Blackmoore, not wanting to explain, shrugged and chuckled, "Grommash Hellscream, sorry to interrupt your meal. Please continue, I can wait."
Grommash Hellscream looked at the newcomers, the Peace Dove, on the ground. "You don't want to save them?"
Blackmoore shook his head. "Changing someone's mind is too difficult. Even if you eat them all, they will still think that Orcs are kind and benevolent."
Grommash Hellscream grinned. "I'm not only going to eat them, I'm going to eat you too."
Blackmoore sighed regretfully:
"Now I finally understand why you have a greater reputation, while Orgrimmar is the Warchief —because you can't see the bigger picture."
The Black-Robed Man beside him snapped his fingers, as if an invisible door had opened, and Orcs heads poured down, piling up into a small mountain.
Grommash Hellscream recognized those faces; two thousand Warsong Clan members had been slaughtered. He was stunned.
"Demons! This human is Demons! He actually killed a kind and benevolent Orcs!"
"Holy Light, unleash your endless wrath and burn away all humanity before you!"
The newlyweds, like Peace Dove, shouted loudly, completely forgetting their predicament.
Grommash Hellscream's face flushed red, his breathing grew heavy, and his eyes revealed a look of madness.
The newlyweds of the Peace Dove remained silent, their eyes wide and their expressions fervent.
The legendary warlord Grom Hellscream Legendary to have destroyed the Lordaeron with a single axe strike and once fought Void Lords for three hundred rounds without being defeated.
To witness Grom Hellscream, even death would be worthwhile.
Those humans who dare to slaughter the Warsong Clan will be torn to shreds by Grommash Hellscream.
Whoosh!
Grommash Hellscream threw away Gorehowl, knelt on the ground, and kowtowed violently until his head bled profusely, pleading loudly:
"Spare me! I don't want to die! I'm willing to be your dog, just to live!"
"That's impossible!"
The girl whose leg had been broken clenched her teeth, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
"How could the great Grom Hellscream kneel and surrender? I don't believe it, I can't accept it."
A young man suffered a stroke, vomited blood, and died.
The new members of the Peace Doves stared intently at Blackmoore, and one of them said:
"Only the great Savior Thrall could make Grom Hellscream and beg for mercy. Are you Thrall?"
"Absurd! Thrall kind, benevolent, and morally upright. How could he possibly massacre his own people?" some disagreed.
Blackmoore ignored the group of newcomers, Black-Robed Man stepped forward and forcibly forced Grommash Hellscream to drink the secret potion.
Grommash Hellscream's body changed, becoming even taller and more imposing, but the arrogance in his eyes disappeared, leaving only obedience.
The Black-Robed Man pointed at the Peace Dove and asked the newlyweds:
"Should we handle these guys as usual?"
Blackmoore hesitated for a moment, then ordered his men to cut a large piece of meat from a living Warsong Orcs and cook it using magic.
"Once you eat a piece of Orcs flesh, you will be free, and I will lead you out of the wilderness," Blackmoore declared loudly.
The toxins in the newcomers of the Peace Dove have weakened, and they are now able to stand up, but none of them dare to make a move when they see the Orcs's flesh.
Blackmoore let out a long sigh:
"I'm not Demons. Let them fend for themselves here. There are plenty of Orcs corpses outside the Valley; there's always a way for them to survive."
The tombs of the former kings of Lordaeron were all demolished, and sufficient military funds were obtained, but Tirion Fordring did not set out.
Every day, bad news arrives: Blackmoore is no longer content with slaughtering the Orcs at the Durnholde internment camp; the Internment Camp in Hillsbrad Foothills has also fallen victim to his wickedness, and he intends to extend his reach into Silverpine Forest.
"The traitor Blackmoore is becoming increasingly arrogant." King Terenas was furious, almost to the point of madness. "By the Holy Light, Tirion Fordring, why haven't you sent troops yet?"
Tirion Fordring smiled faintly, his expression calm. "King Majesty, the Silver Hand Paladins are fully prepared. With just one order, they can storm Hillsbrad Foothills and kill Blackmoore as easily as crushing an ant. This is merely his final act of madness."
Terenas gritted his teeth and asked, "Tirion Fordring, what do you want?"
Tirion Fordring, with a slightly shy expression, said, "Your King, I am getting old and only have one wife, but I am not satisfied with her. I hope to find a young and beautiful woman to be my concubine."
Terenas suppressed his anger. "You can choose any noblewoman from Lordaeron, even married ones are fine."
Tirion Fordring shook his head. "A few years ago, I had a chance encounter with Sylvanas, the Ranger-General of Silvermoon City. She was indeed as beautiful as the Legendary. After returning home, I couldn't stop thinking about her, and I couldn't sleep at night. If Your King could find a matchmaker to propose marriage to me and win the beauty's heart, I would be willing to send troops."
You dare threaten me!
Terenas nearly coughed up blood, but the Orcs were in imminent danger, and there was no time to lose, so he had to endure it.
"Tirion Fordring, the Windrunner Sisters have always been arrogant, and Sylvanas is even more haughty. I'm afraid they won't amount to anything. Perhaps you should choose another suitable partner."
Tirion Fordring said firmly, "I have sworn an oath that I will marry no one but Sylvanas, Your King. If you agree, I will surely succeed."
Terenas frowned. "What merit do I possess to persuade Sylvanas to marry you?"
Tirion Fordring was prepared. "As long as a sufficient dowry is offered, this matter will surely be settled."
Terenas sensed something was wrong and quickly asked, "What kind of betrothal gift are you talking about?"
"Stratholme." Tirion Fordring grinned.