Young Garrosh's head was wrapped up tightly, making him look like a large rice dumpling.
After hearing Vol'jin's reminder, his buzzing mind finally cleared up a lot.
"The battle for the chieftainship has begun so quickly."
A bitter smile appeared on Garrosh's lips. Before he could even savor the affection between father and son, even if it was just a hypocritical performance, the Grommash Hellscream father and son were already on the verge of exchanging blows.
It must be said that Grommash Hellscream played his cards well. Garrosh originally wanted to use his father's influence to improve his status among the Orcs until he was on par with Thrall, and then betray his father.
Grommash Hellscream nearly killed Garrosh, completely extinguishing his will to live. The Veterans of the Warsong Clan would no longer look at Garrosh differently because of Grommash Hellscream; instead, they would mock him from the bottom of their hearts.
In an instant, he went from being a great hero of the Orcs to a laughingstock.
Doras looked at him with reproach. "None of us expected this, Garrosh. You were too careless. Even if it's your own father, you shouldn't have let your guard down."
Garrosh was filled with immense grief, feeling as if darkness had enveloped him, and he deeply regretted his past actions.
Vol'jin shook his head with a sigh, "Our plans have all been disrupted. We must slow down for now. Garrosh is no longer suitable to stay with the Orcs army; otherwise, he will be doubly Pain Suppression by Thrall and Grommash Hellscream, and even Archimonde's protection will be of no use."
Doras had already allied with Garrosh, and abandoning Garrosh now would not be a wise move. He could only advise, "Garrosh, don't show yourself yet. I'll announce to the world that you've returned to Nagrand to farm. From now on, you'll stay by my side. Don't worry, the opportunity will surely return. Remember today's humiliation."
Garrosh finally realized the gravity of the situation. It wasn't just a simple beating from his father; it was equivalent to Grommash Hellscream declaring a complete break with Garrosh, and the two would become strangers from then on.
Inside the Burning Legion's command tent, Archimonde looked down with his green eyes at the old Orcs below, who was groveling on the ground like a dog, his face full of obsequiousness and fawning.
Throughout Archimonde's long life, he encountered too many so-called heroes. Countless heroic deeds circulated among ordinary people, yet when faced with power, they behaved even more humbly and lowly than ordinary people.
The ability to bend and stretch—that's probably what distinguishes heroes from ordinary people.
Archimonde looked down on them, but when he thought about how he probably performed no better than Grommash Hellscream when facing Sargeras, he felt a sense of powerlessness and desolation, and his heart was filled with sorrow.
"Rise, Grom Hellscream." Archimonde raised his hand in praise, "You are a model for the Orcs. It was you who first drank the Blood of Mannoroth, leading the Orcs to become servants of the Legion."
Grommash Hellscream immediately adopted a fawning expression:
"Great Archimonde, the Orcs are very willing to serve the Burning Legion, especially my Warsong Clan, who are extremely loyal to the Burning Legion and yearn to the Legion it from the bottom of their hearts."
Archimonde nodded in satisfaction. "Very good, you are a great warrior. I will separate your Clans from the Orcs. The leader of the Warsong Clan can only be Grom Hellscream."
Grom Hellscream overjoyed upon hearing this, for having his own team meant he now had the means to rival Thrall.
Although the Orcs have been bred by the Dragonkin for thousands of years, their bloodline has not been disordered. Orcs are a race with a strong sense of belonging. Thrall wanted to blur the concept of Clans among the Orcs, but the results were not very successful, especially for the brave Warsong Clan, who never took other Clans seriously.
However, Grommash Hellscream was not satisfied with this; he needed more. He stepped forward slightly and lowered his voice, saying, "Great Lord Archimonde, I know a secret that I hope will be of help to the Legion."
Archimonde looked at the old Orcs strangely. He didn't believe an Orcs could possess secrets useful to the Legion, and casually said, "Tell me about it."
Grommash Hellscream humbly flattered:
"Great Archimonde, years ago when I led the Warsong Clan in battle against Baron Rivendare in the Wilderness of Lordaeron, I inadvertently discovered an ancient tomb, which revealed to me the true identity of Elune 'Emissary. I have heard that Elune's Emissary has already appeared."
Archimonde was overjoyed upon hearing this. Elune's attitude was crucial. Elune wanted to use the Burning Legion to fight against the Scourge, and Archimonde also wanted to use Elune to weaken the Night Elves ' power.
Finding out the identity of the Emissary is equivalent to seizing the initiative.
"Very good, Grom Hellscream." Archimonde pointed to the map of Kalimdor, to the north of the Barrens: "Ashenvale, from now on, is the territory of the Warsong Clan. A group of lowly Night Elves live here. The Legion will fully cooperate with you, and your old friend Mannoroth will assist you in taking over this fertile land."
This is exactly what Grom Hellscream wanted. The fertile lands of Ashenvale are far superior to the barren Durotar. Given time, the Warsong Clan will surely Pain Suppression Thrall's Orcs.
He hurriedly told Archimonde about the past and present life of the Moon Goddess Emissary.
The Legion's engineers, possessing advanced technology, demolished the Troggs's Rag City and rebuilt Orgrimmar in less than half a month. Walking along the wide streets, gazing at the Orcs- style buildings, Thrall's advisors kept praising the city's magnificence. Thrall responded casually, but his mood was very bad.
Grom Hellscream regained his sanity and, with Archimonde's help, took away a portion of the Warsong Clan.
Thrall tried his best to Pain Suppression the development of the Warsong Clan, but that was still nearly ten thousand Orcs. Although Thrall was still nominally the Warchief of the Orcs, it was clear that the Orcs had split.
Meanwhile, Archimonde ordered Thrall to negotiate with the Night Elves, hoping to meet with the Moon Goddess Emissary if possible.
This was clearly a thankless task, Archimonde used the tactic of fighting and negotiating simultaneously, negotiating to buy time while sending Grommash Hellscream to lead the Warsong Clan to attack Ashenvale.
In this conspiracy, Thrall gets nothing.
"What is Archimonde thinking? The Legion Forge has plenty of fuel, why isn't he launching an attack on the Night Elf race?" Thrall couldn't understand.
At almost the same time, the Pit Lord Mannoroth was also pondering the same question.
Inside the chieftain's tent, Archimonde instructed, "Mannoroth, I order you to assist the Warsong Clan in conquering Ashenvale. Remember, you must remain behind the scenes and not let the Night Elves detect your presence."
Mannoroth swayed his massive body and chuckled, "I'm quite happy to cooperate with my old friend Grommash Hellscream. Thrall is too cunning; someone needs to restrain him so he understands he's not the Legion's only option. But I don't understand, with everything ready, why isn't the Burning Legion attacking Mount Hyjal?"
Archimonde remained silent for a moment before saying, "I was worried about the Scourge, but thankfully I've found a way to defeat them. The Consortium has agreed to transport the production line for the Fel Reavers to Azeroth, and then the land of Lordaeron will be filled with Fel Reavers."