Thrall's Return
The scorching sun beat down on the coast opposite the Echo Isles, and the salty sea breeze, carrying the stench of blood, swirled across the battlefield.
The combined forces of orcs, Tauren, and Troll faced each other across a dry riverbed, their Warrior' eyes burning with fury.
"Traitor!" An orc Warrior brandished his battle axe, spittle flying.
"You Tauren have long been slaves to humans in Theramore! Jaina's lackeys!"
Across the riverbed, a Tauren Warrior took a heavy step forward, causing the earth to tremble.
"Bullshit!" His voice boomed like thunder.
"When we shed our blood for the Horde, you were still drinking milk! Orcs were also present at the docks and construction sites of Theramore, so why single us out for criticism?"
"Enough!" A deep, authoritative voice silenced all the arguing.
Cairne Bloodhoof, a towering figure, emerged from the Tauren ranks, his weathered face etched with disappointment and rage.
"Such pointless accusations only make the real enemies laugh. Where is Garrosh? Let him come out and face me!"
A commotion arose within the Troll camp. Vol'jin stepped forward slowly, his narrow eyes gleaming with a dangerous light.
"Well said, old friend. The explosion happened in an area guarded by orcs; we Troll weren't even allowed to get close."
Now they want to shift the blame onto all of us?
Heavy footsteps echoed from behind the orcish ranks, and the Warrior automatically parted to make way.
Garrosh Hell scream approached, clad in heavy black armor, his Gorehowl Battleaxe gleaming an ominous red in the sunlight.
"The traitor is always the last to admit his crimes," Garrosh said with a hint of sarcasm.
"Cairne, you're old, so old that you've forgotten your own glory."
Your people secretly traded with Jaina, betraying the Horde 'Tauren intelligence in exchange for food from Theramore.
That's why the explosion destroyed Orgrimmar —because you betrayed it!
Cairne exhaled two puffs of white breath from his nostrils as he slowly drew his Runic Spear:
"Young Hell scream, your father Grom was a true hero, but at least he knew how to respect other races."
And you, you only use lies and suspicion to divide the Horde.
"A lie?" Garrosh grinned and raised Gorehowl:
"Then let's use Mak'gora to prove who's lying! According to tradition, one-on-one, to the death!"
The battlefield fell silent instantly, with only the sound of waves crashing against the shore echoing among the islands.
Mak'gora – the most sacred dueling ritual among the orcs, which cannot be refused or interfered with.
Cairne took a deep breath and turned to look at Vol'jin:
"Old friend, if I fall, do not avenge me."
This pointless civil war must stop, or the Horde will cease to exist.
Vol'jin squinted and nodded slowly. "May the gods protect you, old friend."
Cairne strode toward the clearing in the middle of the riverbed, each step as steady as a mountain.
Garrosh was already waiting there, his eyes gleaming with Bloodlust.
"Let's begin." Cairne assumed a fighting stance, the spear moving with the lightness of a living thing in his hand.
Garrosh didn't waste any words and immediately launched a berserk attack.
Gorehowl ripped through the air, emitting a sharp shriek.
Cairne dodged to the side, his spear piercing Garrosh's throat like a venomous snake, forcing the latter to retreat.
"Is that all you've got?" Cairne's voice was calm but tinged with disappointment. "Grom's son only knows how to act recklessly?"
Garrosh roared and pounced again.
This time his attack was even more ferocious, his battle axe whipping up a blood-red whirlwind.
Cairne remained calm and composed, parrying each time with perfect timing, his spear occasionally finding openings to strike Garrosh's vitals.
The battle lasted for more than ten minutes. Garrosh's breathing became heavy, while Cairne maintained a steady pace.
The Warrior watching held their breath, for this duel was not only a matter of personal life and death, but also of the future of their Horde.
"You're tired, young man," Cairne said after one exchange.
"Admit defeat. If you step down and admit your mistakes, we can rebuild the Horde together."
"Shut up!" Garrosh suddenly changed tactics.
He knew Cairne didn't want to kill him immediately, but only wanted to defeat him and make him admit his mistakes.
So he feigned a stumble, creating an opening. When Cairne's spear came at him, he had to dodge to avoid his vitals.
Garrosh seized the opportunity to sidestep, and Gorehowl slashed at Cairne's leg at an unusual angle.
The Tauren's act of compassion led to his downfall.
Cairne reacted extremely quickly, but his calf was still cut by the axe blade.
He grunted, took a few steps back to steady himself. "A despicable sneak attack, this is not the honor Mak'gora deserves."
Garrosh did not answer; a fanatical red light flashed in his eyes.
Taking advantage of the opponent's injury, they launched an even fiercer attack, quickly opening several more wounds on Cairne's body.
"You... you are so despicable!" Cairne knelt on one knee, his spear supporting his swaying body.
"Victory is achieved by any means necessary." Garrosh approached with a cold laugh. "Old man, your era is over."
Just as Gorehowl was about to fall, the sky suddenly darkened.
A massive shadow swept across the battlefield, and the roar of the Dragonhawk made all the Warrior instinctively lower their bodies.
A figure draped in a wolf-skin cloak leaped directly from the sky, the Shaman's lightning forming a dazzling halo of light upon impact.
"In the name of the Ancestor's Spirit!" Thrall's voice boomed like thunder.
The Doomhammer slammed heavily into the sand, and the elemental power created a visible shockwave that spread outwards.
The closest Warrior were thrown back by the shockwave, and clear concentric cracks appeared on the sand.
Garrosh's pupils contracted sharply. "Thrall?" His voice was a mixture of shock and resentment.
Cairne slowly lowered his fighting stance, the tip of his spear drawing a peaceful arc on the sand.
Thrall's gaze swept over the two Warrior, finally settling on Garrosh's blood-stained battle axe.
"What I gave you when I left was not weapons, Garrosh," he stepped forward and disarmed Garrosh, "But the future of the entire Horde."
As he moved, the Frostwolf Clan guards who had been lying in ambush nearby quickly took control of the situation.
"Thrall, I..." Garrosh's face turned pale instantly.
Thrall ignored him and went straight to Cairne to check his injuries.
"Summon the Shaman immediately! Heal the wounds!" he commanded, then turned to face Garrosh, his voice burning with rage.
"Is this your understanding of glory? Using underhanded tactics in Mak'gora?" Thrall's voice was deep and dangerous.
"Garrosh, you have disappointed me greatly. I hereby announce that Garrosh is hereby immediately relieved of his post as Great Chieftain."
"Detain him for now, and a verdict will be announced after the truth of this incident is further investigated."
Garrosh took a step back, then straightened his back. "You abandoned the Horde! I am leading the orcs to power!"
Cairne and his people have betrayed us orcs and must be eliminated!
"Shut up!" Thrall roared. "Cairne and Vol'jin are old friends who co-founded the Horde with me. They would never betray the Horde!"
An uproar erupted on the battlefield, and the orc Warrior looked at each other in bewilderment.
Garrosh's face twisted into a grimace. "You'd rather believe those traitors who abandoned us than your own Great Chieftain?"
Thrall raised Doomhammer, and lightning gathered on its head.
"Shut up, shut up, Garrosh. I'm back to correct my mistake—you're no longer the Great Chieftain."
With that, Thrall waved his hand, and a squad of the Frostwolf Clan guards stepped forward and subdued Garrosh.
Even the most reckless orc has no choice but to shut his mouth when faced with weapons.
He was quickly taken away. The soldiers on both sides breathed a sigh of relief, no longer having to draw their swords against their former comrades.
Third update. An extra chapter was added yesterday when we reached 600 monthly votes. If we reach 700 monthly votes today, another extra chapter will be added.