Twenty-fifth: Victory

Leiluo had untied the knot in his heart, and Orgrim had let go of his prejudice. Now, the arena had become a stage for warriors of Draenor and warriors of Nokthas to compete.

Orgrim discovered that what had initially been effortless was now like treading on thin ice. Leiluo's growing experience forced him to believe that geniuses truly existed in this world. What he did not know was that every genius had cheats enabled.

"So, old man, are your hands shaking more and more? Are your legs getting weaker?" Leiluo mocked as he forced Orgrim into another head-on clash, feeling the strength coming from him steadily diminish.

"Why not just surrender? It won't look good if we keep fighting like this!"

"Huff—huff—huff."

"You little bastard, you were just saying you had the heart of an orc. Why are you calling me a bastard now?" Orgrim replied, beginning to pant.

"Orcs never bow their heads and surrender!" Orgrim no longer avoided Leiluo's attacks, instead meeting him blow for blow.

"Even if I lose, I'll lose with style."

Hearing Orgrim say that, Leiluo stopped talking trash and put more strength into his swings.

"Huff—this brat was holding back just now. What a freak."

Under Leiluo's increasingly rapid attacks, Orgrim ran out of strength, and his legs began to tremble. Seizing the opportunity, Leiluo tripped him with his foot and gave him another shove with his hand, knocking Orgrim straight to the ground.

As Orgrim prepared to get back up, a pitch-black great axe barred his path. Leiluo's annoyingly smug trash talk reached his ears. "Old man, baldness must mean bad health. Go back and build yourself up properly. Maybe then you'll be able to beat me, haha!"

With that, Leiluo withdrew his axe, slung it over his shoulder, and watched Orgrim leave the arena.

"Sorry, Chieftain. I couldn't teach that brat a lesson." Returning to his clan, Orgrim saw his Chieftain looking at him and said apologetically, "That brat was just too..."

"There's no need to say it, Orgrim. You did your best. I could tell that brat was stronger than you. If we were both Gold Tier, I wouldn't have been his match either."

"But Chieftain, that bastard said you were bald!"

Hearing his adjutant's disgruntled words, Blackhand actually broke into a rare grin. It was terrifying enough to make children stop crying at night.

"We are bald, aren't we? What's there to mind? Still, I want to recruit that brat into Blackrock. What do you think?"

"I don't know. That brat seems pretty close to Durotan."

"Oh, is that so..." Hearing his adjutant's words, Blackhand narrowed his eyes in thought.

Seeing Orgrim leave the arena, the surrounding orcs erupted. They continuously shouted Leiluo's name, while Leiluo spread his arms and basked in the glory that belonged to him.

After the cheering went on for a while, no one else stepped into the arena. Durotan began asking, "Is there anyone else who wants to fight?"

He asked three times in a row, but no one answered. Then the next Chieftain asked, and so it went on until all six Chieftains had asked, yet no one stepped forward.

Thus, Ner'zhul, the organizer and sponsor of the martial tournament, announced, "The victor—Leiluo of the Pebble Clan!"

Hearing the announcement, the surrounding orcs rushed forward and tossed Leiluo into the air amid endless cheers. The strong had always been the objects of orcish worship.

Once the orcs' celebration ended, they crowded Leiluo before the Chieftains of the Six Great Clans and formed a circle, allowing the victor to claim his spoils.

"Victor Leiluo, the Shadowmoon Clan's Fervent Blood is here. If you don't have anyone to carry it, the Shadowmoon Clan can help transport it back to your tent." Ner'zhul came before Leiluo and waved his hand. His subordinates carried out five large chests and placed them before everyone.

At that moment, Gul'dan stepped forward and said in his hoarse voice, "Young warrior of the orcs, you defeated Orgrim and won the martial tournament. Your valor will spread throughout every orc clan."

As he spoke, Gul'dan took out a bottle of Demon Blood and walked up to Leiluo. "Now, as long as you drink it, your valor will rise to another level, and you will become an existence equal to my Teacher and the other five Chieftains."

"Drink it, and let every orc here witness the birth of another orc hero!" With that, he held the bottle of Demon Blood out before Leiluo.

Young orc, as long as you drink it, I'll be able to spread it through every orc clan even faster. Then I'll become one of the Burning Legion's rising stars.

Looking at Leiluo before him, Gul'dan desperately wanted to grab the Demon Blood and force it down Leiluo's throat. But he believed that no one could resist the temptation of power.

When he saw Leiluo take the Demon Blood, Gul'dan's inner cries grew even louder, and his green eyes nearly glowed.

Seeing Gul'dan's eager expression, a trace of slyness flashed through Leiluo's eyes. Then golden Holy Light emerged from his other hand.

"Lord Gul'dan, your Fervent Blood can increase one's strength. But if I do this, I wonder what will happen?" As he spoke, Leiluo covered the Demon Blood with the Holy Light in his hand. A cloud of green smoke rose, and Leiluo tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. Nothing happened.

"How could this be? Why hasn't Lord Leiluo's strength increased?"

"Yeah, I heard that people who drank it before turned green. Why hasn't Lord Leiluo?"

"Could the golden light in Lord Leiluo's hand dispel the potion's effects?"

"Then could the strength of those who drank it disappear because of that light?"

Seeing that Leiluo had drunk the Demon Blood without any reaction, the surrounding orcs began discussing it among themselves.

"Th-this—this is impossible! Why did this happen? Why didn't you react?!" Seeing that Leiluo was completely unaffected, Gul'dan panicked. Whether he succeeded in corrupting the orcs with Demon Blood represented his future standing in the Burning Legion. If he failed like this, he could not imagine what punishment the Burning Legion would inflict upon him.

Watching Gul'dan panic, Leiluo felt a surge of satisfaction.

"Lord Gul'dan, I don't know why either. I just shone my Holy Light on it once, and it stopped working?" As he spoke, Leiluo turned the bottle upside down to show that he had drunk every drop, yet Gul'dan's potion had had no effect.

Leiluo had done this to make the orcs believe that Gul'dan's potion had problems. Even if they drank it, the benefits it brought could be dispelled by Holy Light. It both reduced the allure of Demon Blood and displayed the power of Holy Light, planting a seed for spreading Holy Light among the orcs in the future.

Hearing Leiluo's words, Gul'dan roared himself hoarse, "It was you! It had to be you! I'm going to kill you!"

As he spoke, Gul'dan fired a Shadow Bolt from his hand. The distance between them was too short, and it was already too late for Leiluo to dodge. A Shadow Bolt from a Heroic Rank warlock was enough to kill him ten thousand times over.