But Orgrim had yet to agree. He had to stabilize the defensive line first, lest the enemy find an opening. Once the humans broke through it, there could be only one outcome: collapse.
As the only Orc in the entire army who had not drunk the cursed blood, he had never believed that individual valor could accomplish much against the tide of events. War was not a one-man affair; there was simply too much to consider.
He could not help sighing. Thinking of Boulder'gor across the lines, he had to acknowledge his defeat, however unwilling he was.
The noisy war council not only left the Warchief agitated, but also made Kilrogg, sitting opposite him, increasingly irritable. Finally, he could bear it no longer and slammed down his fist. With a tremendous crash, the entire table broke apart.
"Why haven't we marched yet? I don't understand what you're still waiting for, Warchief. One moment of indecision cost us Boulder'gor, and with it, the Orcs' spirit of never admitting defeat. Are we going to hesitate again this time?
"Warchief, I am not questioning your authority. I simply don't want the Horde's glory to be ruined by our hands. The only way to wash away this shame now is to attack, defeat those humans, and make them feel the terror of the Horde."
Kilrogg's words set the blood of these already war-hungry Orcs boiling. They began clamoring again, trying to push the Warchief into ordering an immediate attack.
Orgrim understood that he could no longer suppress these Orcs' desire for destruction. They needed an outlet. And now that the Horde's defensive network had just been completed, he had no reason to stop them anymore.
"I understand what you want now. You all want a fair, head-on battle with the humans, correct? I can