A Meaningless Duel

When Zul'ra arrived at the arena, a crowd had already gathered there—both Orgrimmar civilians and Kor'kron guards. At the center of the arena, Thrall wielded Doomhammer as he dueled Garrosh, who held an axe in each hand.

The two burly Orcs roared as they swung their weapons mercilessly at each other, sweat flying as warhammer and battle axes clashed throughout the arena. As Zul'ra watched, he found Cairne Bloodhoof among the spectators and asked him what had led Thrall and Garrosh to fight.

It was just as Zul'ra had expected. The reason Thrall and Garrosh had come to blows was still the attack Jaina had mentioned. Garrosh had orchestrated it, ordering his men to sink an Alliance warship, kill some of those aboard, and then release the rest, calling it a combination of mercy and intimidation.

"He's as stupid as his father." Zul'ra cursed outright. He swore he had never seen such an idiot before.

"That's what Thrall said too. Then Garrosh challenged him to a duel." Cairne was equally troubled.

"At least Grom knew how to clean up afterward and had the courage to take responsibility. But he can't do anything at all. Is this a Mak'gora?" Zul'ra asked Cairne through gritted teeth.

"...Of course not." Cairne shook his head with a muffled voice as he looked at the furious Zul'ra.

"Then there's no need for this fight to continue. Unless one side dies, a duel like this has no meaning whatsoever." After spitting out those words through clenched teeth, Zul'ra leaped straight into the arena and strode toward the two combatants, shouting at the same time, "Stop!"

"Zul'ra, don't interfere with my duel." Seeing Zul'ra jump directly into the arena, Thrall used Doomhammer to block Garrosh's battle axe, shoving the bull-like brute away as he shouted at Zul'ra.