Stormwind God

The huge hands were stained with blood and colorful brains, and Orgrim showed the most primitive and brutal violence. The orcs couldn't help reminding their ancestors how to use their strong physique, fists, teeth, and arms to fight the beasts without weapons, and struggle to survive in the desolate wilderness.

Orgrim's most direct bombardment ignited the passion in the hearts of every orc.

"Oooo!"

"Orgrim! Orgrim!"

Just a few minutes ago, the orcs were insulting Orgrim angrily, but after a few minutes, Orgrim, who showed bravery and majesty, immediately became the star of the entire tribe.

Kilrogg opened up his seemingly muddy right eye and said slowly: "Orgrim * Doomhammer, you have washed away your suspicions and restored your reputation! Now, If you quit [Marco Gora], it's too late! "

Orgrim replaced his answer with his actions, strode **** steps, and pulled a banner from a tent on the sidelines.

It was the banner of his destruction hammer among the Blackrock clan.

With a shake of his hand, the red-black flag on the ground fell to the middle of the venue.

"My Orgrim * Hammer of Destruction! Start here [Mak'Gora], challenge the position of chief of war! I will accept the challenge of at least six warriors! Until I reach the position of chief of war, or die!"

Despite the multiple knives in his body, and although each wound was still bleeding with Orgrim's activities, Orgrim's gasp-like roar continued to spread throughout the camp.

"Hmm! Hmm! Hmm! Hmm!" This is a rhythmic applause of the orcs. Nothing beats the blood of a warrior fighting a warrior to participate in the war of the chiefs.

Even if you do not admit it, it is an indisputable fact that the tribe has just won a terrible victory.

Cowardly humans are far more cunning than the orcs imagined, and the entire tribe desperately needed a true king who could lead the tribe to conquer the planet!

The orcs shouted and admired loudly, holding up the rough weapon in their hands and slamming the ground with their feet, as if the earth were to tremble, and the earth cheered to welcome the new chieftain who might appear soon!

A clan battle flag with three teeth on one side was thrown into the field, a Bladefang clan with a thousand soldiers.

As a small clan, Chief Lamlin of the Bladefang clan is not a very strong orc. Among the orcs, he was definitely thin.

He made up for the lack of strength with a high degree of agility.

"Orgrim" Lamlin growled loudly, but his movement was reminiscent of a flexible Bobcat. Aiming at Orgrim's injured right leg, Lamlin moved at high speed around Orgrim's injured leg.

Orgrim was indeed affected, and the moment he couldn't keep up, Lamlin swooped up.

The two crossed scimitars flashed cold, and Orgrim's wide back suddenly had an extremely scarlet cross bloodstain. The flesh was torn open by the barbs on the scimitar blade, shocking!

When Lamlin tried to retreat with a blow, Orgrim countered.

In the sun, the heavy Doomhammer shone with a dark glow as it rotated. Without any tricks, the only thing is fast.

Incredibly fast.

Demented fast.

That was beyond the swiftness that Lamlin could capture with the naked eye.

For a moment without blinking, his slightly slender body was split directly into two halves as if smashed by an immensely huge machete.

Time is like a freeze, Lamlin's chest and lower body are still suspended in mid-air, but the hit belly bursts into a flesh-blooded rain instantly, bursting in the direction of the hammer!

As if after three seconds, Lamlin still had his unbelieving eyes, and his upper body carrying the eyeballs, suddenly fell into a pool of blood.

Killed with one hammer, overflowing with domineering!

"Next!" Orgrim's loud voice was no different from the cymbals in Orc's ears.

Another battle flag was thrown into the field. One minute later, Orgrim had another scar on his shoulder and another body on the ground.

"Next!" The same hammer, the same voice, the same tone.

However, under the corpse of the three chiefs, Orgrim's shout had a different meaning.

The chief who considered himself weaker responded with silence. At this moment, no one is lucky anymore. Although the orcs were still watching, they looked like blood. Among the people who are really eligible to participate in [Makgora], there is a short cold field.

It took half a minute for the fourth flag to be dropped.

Three minutes later, the fifth side.

Ten minutes later, the sixth side!

When the seventh flag was thrown into the field, Orgrim had become a blood man. No one could tell whether it was the blood of Orgrim or the blood of his enemies.

None of the six chiefs were dead, all turned into **** pieces of meat.

From the little shepherd who was initially unknown, to the chief of the later 10,000 clan. The challenger is escalating step by step, and Orgrim's injuries are also stepping up.

Now, anyone who goes up must first weigh their own weight.

The seventh flag was tossed down, and there was an orc with a left hand, a long scimitar and a darker skin below his left arm.

Not because he interrupted his left hand during the war, but because he was a warrior of the Shattered Clan.

As one of the cruelest and most vicious orc clan in the tribe, the tradition of the broken palm clan warrior is to abandon his left hand, put on a sharp blade, and always be ready to go to the fire for the glory of the clan.

"Orgrim, you are great, but your road to the chieftain will end here with my Kanad Bladefist."

The tribe is also divided into three, six, and nine. The small clan has only the chief to have the right to challenge, but in the large clan, those recognized warriors also have the right to challenge [Margola]. For example, in 'history', Orgrim was the deputy chief of the Blackrock clan chief. This identity, equivalent to the deputy chief, challenged the black hand and successfully killed the black hand.

A glance at Kannard Bladefist showed Orgrim's rough face showing a bit of disdain.

"You can't do it, it's your chief, Kargas."

"Huh! You're tired! You're seriously injured! Orgrim!" Kannard stepped forward suddenly.

"You only have to look for a badly injured opponent." The sarcasm on Orgrim's face became stronger: "Yeah! I'm tired, I'm injured, but even a thousand guys like you, I can kill them all! "(To be continued.)