Lone Star of Misfortune [Daily 10k, Please Subscribe]

Saurfang could only say, "Back then, all Orcs were tormented by demon blood."

Deren found that amusing. No matter who it was, whenever they mentioned the Old Horde, they always brought up demon blood. It was as if, without drinking demon blood, every Orc would have been as kind and harmless as a little lamb.

He could not help saying, "Your Orc army had at least tens of thousands back then, right? Including those left behind on Draenor, there might have been hundreds of thousands of Orcs altogether, right?"

Saurfang nodded. "That's right. Even the chieftains of the clans didn't really know the exact number of Orcs. Orcs didn't like keeping everything so orderly."

"Then did you ever consider what exactly the demon blood you drank was? Did you really see it flowing from the demon Mannoroth with your own eyes?" Deren asked with a smile.

"Uh..." Saurfang was speechless. When he thought of the hundreds of thousands of Orcs who had drunk demon blood, had they really all drunk blood that flowed from a demon's body?

"So, things like the demon blood curse were nothing more than lies meant to fool those ignorant, brainless lowborn Orcs. You higher-ups knew that perfectly well." Deren showed him no courtesy. "As for the honor and justice you speak of, they were all meant to establish rules and order within Orc society.

"For example, the famous Mak'gora duel was meant to select the strongest individual at the lowest possible cost. As long as one had strength, one had power and status. There was no need for unrelated people nearby to make sacrifices. And then there were the wars of annexation between clans, large and small. Once one side won, couldn't they slaughter or plunder the losers as they pleased?

"So whether they drank