Invasion

Garrosh's entire brown body leaned back against the comfortable chieftain's throne. Mannoroth's bones had been used to decorate it. At first glance, Grommash himself looked like a demon, especially his eyes. His gaze swept over everyone entering Grommash Hold, creating an oppressive atmosphere.

After everyone had arrived, the chieftain did not speak. He merely stared at them without moving. Seconds ticked by. Gradually, the impatience in the air became almost suffocating.

"Everyone is here, Great Chief," Malkorok broke the silence. Though many people disliked the Blackrock Orc, he had undoubtedly done a good thing this time.

"Very good," Grommash said. He did not rise, continuing to look down upon the Horde's leaders. "At a time when the Horde faces a challenge, no one chose to flee."

Baine very much wanted to know what exactly he meant by "challenge." Deathwing had failed, and the world was no longer under threat. The Horde was now in a time of peace. If there was any challenge, it was how to recover from the Cataclysm.

Garrosh waved for everyone to sit. "There is a threat that has existed for far too long. It was already there when the Horde first arrived in this world. We have always yielded to it, blindly maintaining peace with it. Here, I solemnly declare: we no longer need peace! We will wipe out this threat once and for all."

Baine had guessed it before coming to Orgrimmar, yet cold sweat still broke out in his palms. He remembered what Vol'jin had said earlier. Without realizing it, the Tauren chieftain saw that his friend had shut his eyes in pain.

The Orc continued, "We will march toward victory. We will crush those Alliance insects occupying land that was originally ours, as iron hooves crush vermin. They already firmly control the