In his rage, Grommash Hellscream lost his mind. He gripped Gorehowl tightly with both hands Gorehowl high into the Gorehowl. The Gronn Heart hidden within Gorehowl granted him immense power, and he slashed at Cenarius with a piercing whistling sound.
Bang!
With a deafening roar and sparks flying, Grommash Hellscream's arms went numb from the shock, his tiger's mouth split open, and the immense recoil sent him flying a great distance before he crashed heavily to the ground, his entire body aching as if it were falling apart. He immediately snapped out of his berserk state.
Cenarius only felt a series of dizzy spells, but he was completely unharmed, not even a scratch.
He dazedly tidied his messy hair; the Gorehowl had worked to some extent, as a few strands of hair had left him. He then stared in surprise at the old Orcs before him.
Are you alright?
In fact, Robbie made a mistake. After ten thousand years of growth, Cenarius's strength had increased considerably, and he was now a true Demigod, with a body harder than steel.
Grommash Hellscream was merely a powerful Orcs; the difference in their life levels was too great. Even if he stood still and let Cenarius be attacked, he couldn't kill him.
Barely managing to get up from the ground, Grommash Hellscream realized that this strangely shaped creature was far more powerful than him. Grommash Hellscream around, and he immediately came up with a good plan.
He burst into tears, like a wronged young girl.
Cenarius somewhat bewildered, thinking to himself, "I'm the one who was ambushed, so why is the attacker crying?"
Gazing at the legendary greatsword radiating murderous intent, Cenarius became even more certain that the old Orcs was Grom Hellscream, and asked in bewilderment:
"Grommash Hellscream, why are you crying?"
Grom Hellscream sobbed and slapped himself repeatedly until his cheeks were swollen. "I was wrong! I thought an enemy was chasing us, and I swung my axe without seeing clearly. I shouldn't have wanted to kill such a great and elegant god! I deserve to die! This lowly Grommash Hellscream greets the esteemed Cenarius!"
Cenarius was actually full of resentment; anyone would be unhappy to be chopped by an axe, Grom Hellscream and fussing instantly dispelled Cenarius's anger. He waved his hand and said:
"Rise, Grom Hellscream. This is not your fault; it is the fault of the Night Elves Night Elf Ashenvale. How dare they offend Orcs noble Orcs and incite conflict between them! Rest assured, I will avenge you."
Grom Hellscream stopped crying and said humbly, "Lord Cenarius, your magnanimity is truly befitting of the Night Elf race patron. A friend of mine lives downstream of this river. Please, Lord Cenarius, escort me on my way. My friend greatly admires you."
Cenarius thought to himself, "This old Orcs is probably terrified. Good, without my escort, he'll have a hard time escaping from here." So he said, "Grommash Hellscream, don't worry. With me protecting you, no Night Elf will dare to lay a hand on you. I'd also like to meet your friend."
Grommash Hellscream overjoyed; with such a powerful Guardian, he no longer needed to worry about the Night Elves ' pursuers.
The two traveled together, and along the way, Grommash Hellscream was extremely obsequious and ingratiating, flattering Cenarius to his heart's content. This was Grommash Hellscream's forte.
In his early years, Grommash Hellscream led the Warsong Clan in a conflict with the Ogres. After being defeated and captured by the Ogres, he betrayed his mate to the Ogre overlord, using his flattery and ingratiation to win his life.
Of course, the ultimate victor was the resilient Grommash Hellscream, and so the Draenor World began to recount how Grom Hellscream defied death and possessed an iron will. He was hung from a tree by Ogres and baked in the sun for half a month, becoming extremely weak, yet he successfully used his teeth to kill the Ogre overlord and achieve victory.
It's a legendary story, but don't forget, there are only two characters in it: Grom Hellscream and the dead Ogre overlord. There are no third witnesses, so how did this story spread?
Countless historical examples prove that victors can freely adorn themselves with garlands.
The journey was very smooth. Cenarius and Grommash Hellscream soon arrived at the lower reaches of the river, near a secluded ravine in the Barrens. Grommash Hellscream enthusiastically led the way into the ravine.
Cenarius thought that Grommash Hellscream's friend must be Orcs or a Troll. The entrance to the valley was filled with beautiful flowers, all of which were varieties he had never seen before. Clearly, the owner of this place was a person with unique tastes.
Then, Cenarius smelled the scent of Fel and was suddenly startled as a massive figure, as large as a small mountain, appeared before him.
Mannoroth, the Pit Lord, looked down at Grommash Hellscream and exclaimed in surprise, "Grommash Hellscream, you actually escaped from the Night Elves and even brought a guest with you. Is this a gift from you?"
Grom Hellscream said respectfully, "Great Pit Lord, this is the food I offer you."
"Food?"
Cenarius was terrified. He saw Mannoroth grinning menacingly as he lunged forward. The Pit Lord's body was as large as a small mountain, yet he was incredibly agile.
Mannoroth's massive limbs pinned Cenarius to the ground, biting through his neck and tearing at his flesh. Despite Cenarius's body being harder than steel, it was as fragile as paper before the Pit Lord spewed sulfurous flames.
Cenarius let out a bloodcurdling scream as Mannoroth devoured his flesh and blood, leaving not even bones behind. At the same time, the Flames of the Abyss scorched his soul. After a full quarter of an hour, Mannoroth Cenarius had been completely devoured, leaving only his head.
"Not bad, finally I've tasted a rare delicacy. The flesh and blood of Demigod are quite good, but it's a pity his soul escaped." Mannoroth laughed heartily, "The head is yours, Grommash Hellscream. Your defeat is a disgrace. I hope this head can bring you glory and salvage some face."
Cenarius wide open in disbelief, Grommash Hellscream, holding his head, felt no joy whatsoever:
"My Warsong Clan is completely wiped out. What use is it to have only one Veteran left?"
Mannoroth said while picking his teeth, "It's alright, the Dragonkin will soon send new soldiers. The Warsong Clan can rise from the ashes. However, Grommash Hellscream, you must learn from your defeat."
Grommash Hellscream's hope was rekindled. He gritted his teeth and said, "The Night Elves were prepared. Someone clearly told them about my ambush plan. I must find this traitor."
Mannoroth chuckled and shook his head. "It's useless, Grommash Hellscream. Even if you knew who the traitor was, you couldn't do anything about it. Your secrecy was excellent; even the Warsong Clan didn't know about the plan. Only Eitrigg followed orders and cooperated. So, isn't it obvious who the traitor is?"
"Eitrigg, oh no, it's the treacherous Thrall." Grommash Hellscream slapped his forehead. "Damn it, I should have known. Thrall wouldn't just sit idly by and watch the Warsong Clan rise."