Orgrim shook his still-dizzy head. Within a few breaths, his eyes regained their focus, and he saw that Patrick had not cast any spells at him. As he felt relieved that his enemy had not seized the opportunity to attack, he caught sight of Gul'dan nearby, firing off a Shadow Bolt from time to time.
The orc Warchief muttered inwardly, I never thought Gul'dan would save me.
When Orgrim had charged at Patrick with thunderous force, he had been brimming with confidence that he would kill him in one strike. Yet just as he was about to reach his target, a violent explosion had sent Orgrim flying backward even faster.
In that instant, Orgrim had felt he was already dead. On a battlefield, any loss of consciousness undoubtedly gave the enemy an opening. Even if it lasted only a moment, the enemy could seize that opportunity to attack while he was powerless to resist, and he might very well die a glorious death in battle just like that.
Besides, did Gul'dan not hate Orgrim? That was certainly not the case. Gul'dan had fallen unconscious after suffering a mental shock. When he woke, he discovered that his puppet Warchief, Blackhand, was dead, and most of the Shadow Council's core members had died as well. All those students and assistants who had once served him so well had perished at Orgrim's hands. He himself had all but become Orgrim's slave, with no chance of turning things around.
Orgrim had never imagined that Gul'dan would save him. The instant he was sent flying backward, he had wondered whether Gul'dan would take the opportunity to kill him on the spot. Given Gul'dan's character and all his years of dealings with demons, Orgrim reckoned that something like this would be child's play for him.
The