Forging

"Bastard! Orcs again!"

Kaz'goroth cursed viciously under his breath. During the War of the Ancients, when his true master—the lord of the Burning Legion, the Dark Titan Sargeras—was about to enter Azeroth and destroy it, an Orc had charged into the Twisting Nether. Wielding an oak battle-axe, he had fought his way through to Sargeras and wounded the Dark Titan, buying precious time. That was why the portal had been closed. Archimonde, Sargeras's strongest warrior, had never recovered from that defeat. Kaz'goroth's current master, Kil'jaeden, had eventually surpassed him and kept him firmly beneath his heel, leaving him no chance to rise again.

All of this had happened while Kaz'goroth was there. He had played a part in becoming the stepping stone for that legendary Orc. So in Kaz'goroth's heart, he both feared and hated the Orcs. Now Leiluo had appeared to meddle again, bringing old and new grievances surging back. Kaz'goroth raised the Sword of Doom and thrust it viciously at Leiluo.

Unlike Azshara's clumsy attacks, Kaz'goroth was incredibly fast despite his enormous size. Leiluo had no time to dodge, and could only raise the Black Cleaver before his chest and use it as a shield.

Kaz'goroth's attempt to finish Leiluo in one move had failed. Leiluo hadn't even been sent flying. The strike had driven him backward, carving a deep furrow in the ground. His insides churned, his organs felt torn apart, and blood kept spilling from the corner of his mouth—but he had still managed to block the blow.

Kaz'goroth wasn't about to give Leiluo a chance to catch his breath. He stepped forward and swung again. This time, he didn't thrust; he brought the sword down in a slash.

But just as Leiluo tensed, ready to meet the attack, Kaz'goroth's sword skimmed over his head. The