Stormwind God

Orgrim once again held up the Doomhammer in his hand, the hammer still stained with magma, looked extremely dazzling and dazzling in the rising sun.

"We are here because this is our base camp! The strength of our entire tribe is here! We are here because we can rush out again and set this continent at our feet! Every inch of land in the world is Put on the tribe ’s flag. So when we come back here we can defeat them again and make them tremble again for our name! "

By this time, the cheering had become enough to cause the entire scorching canyon to boil, Orgrim raised his arms, and let the enthusiastic cheering come. He saw that the warriors of the tribe stood up, wielding their brand new weapons.

The chief warrior was pleased to see that the fighting spirit of the soldiers was once again inspired.

"We are the best hunters, we can wait for opportunities, but we will never wait for death!" He said to his soldiers, "we are orcs! We are tribe! We will give them a fatal blow! Will They regret chasing here! Once we smash their army, we will step on their bodies and rule their land again! "

When Orgrim waved the Warhammer above his head again, Zuluhed had already waved a hand secretly.

A loud horn sounded. The sound of Shen Ning, as if from the ancient times, crosses the long river of history.

Every orc seemed to feel that their ancestors were staring at themselves with warm eyes.

At this moment, every minute and every second, the loud shouting towards the clouds had shuddered the entire Black Rock Mountain where Orgrim was standing.

Orgrim suddenly wanted to cry. This is the tribe that stands on the top of the world with an unyielding heart. This is the tribe he is willing to pay for life and even soul.

Orgrim felt the hot wind slip over his cheek. He couldn't figure out whether it was the heat of the scorching canyon or the heat of the orc cheers.

It's ok!

This is the people he loves! This was the orc warrior he knew.

Will not cry because of failure.

Will not kneel for mercy because of disadvantage.

Even if they fall, it will only fall in the direction of the charge, and their hands will be stained with the blood of the enemy.

From the terrace, Zuluhed greeted him, and rudely used him as an honorific: "Great speech, Chief."

Suddenly, a voice came: "I hope those little cubs who haven't even seen Goron will not scare urine after seeing the dragon flying in the sky."

Talking about Kilrogg's blind eye, as the blood ring clan chief who suffered misfortune during the war with the Red Dragon Army, he obviously had a grudge.

Orgrim glanced at Kilrogg, then suddenly smiled: "The dragon is not the only master of this world. I swear by the banner of the tribe that this decisive battle has nothing to do with the dragon."

"Huh?" Kilrogg's eyes narrowed for a moment.

Orgrim didn't take care of Kilrogg anymore. He turned to Sabbeck, who had retrieved a life from the front, and withdrew. "Let our fighters of the clan be ready. I will charge my elite team, The others followed. "

He glanced at the huge hall on the terrace, standing in the shadow full of huge figures. They were waiting for the order, and when Orgrim's eyes swept away, everyone stood upright and nodded. Orgrim also nodded in response, this is his elite guard, with a small number, only three hundred, but each member is a two-headed ogre who has been baptized by the storm altar.

Doomhammer is a noble orc who once hated ogres extremely, but these are not the same now. They are much smarter than others and they are warriors rather than warlocks.

More importantly, they are only loyal to Orgrim, not because of tribal identity.

Orgrim knew that they admired their courage and strength. In fact, they regarded themselves as a small ogre and promised to obey their command.

Similarly, he respected their power and understood that each of them could die for him if needed. As he was willing to give his life for the tribe.

Now, 250,000 orcs will use their lives as a weight to tie the tribe's victory to the scale of fate.

That's the last thing left ...

Suddenly, an orc rushed over and whispered in Orgrim's ear: "Guir is found, and you are transferred to another slave owner's hand as you instructed, but ... is this appropriate?"

Orgrim sighed: "According to the Lord Nagrand's prophecy, we must leave him with humans ... this is destiny!"

fate?

What a mysterious word.

Just a short distance away, Kilrogg said, "I don't want to go to war" on his face.

He suddenly lifted up his bone-bone axe made from the fangs of the beast and came to Orgrim to stand.

"No matter the victory or defeat, the tribe should not be destroyed here."

Orgrim laughed at Kilrogg's words.

"let's go!"

At this moment far above a hill three kilometers away from the main battlefield, Anduin Lothar stood on horseback like a sharp sword. He is the most trusted commander and the Supreme Commander of the Alliance.

Anduin was not only surrounded by the knight, but also a whole silver hand was on his side. Anduin pressed the hilt of his sword with his hands. Because he stayed up all night, he got a little bit into his eyes, and his eyes kept turning. The sight of non-stop inspection in the distance of the plain is as sharp as a hawk.

Orcs cheering from afar shook the world.

This made Anduin a little uneasy.

Obviously, Warchief Orgrim inspired the morale of the entire tribe. On the other side of the league, Anduin felt a bit fucked.

Terenas wanted to compete for madness and went crazy, and for the reason that Lordaeron sent the most troops, he forcibly changed the formation, and asked all the troops of the other eight alliances to form the army. If Lordaeron's troops were as elite as Mograine's direct troops, then Anduin would be fine.

What kind of ghost is here?

Terenas threw all the aristocratic personal soldiers in a brain, and brought together 150,000 people. Instead, let the more capable Gilneas, Alterac army run to deliver grain. Also reluctant to retreat as a threat.

Okay, now the Front and Central Front are all Lordaerons. On the left is the well-equipped Dalaran Army with a little lack of fighting will and the Highland Cavalry Regiment of Whitewater Fort. On the right is a coalition of bronze beards, wild hammer dwarves, and dwarfs. Later in the battle are the Wizards of Quel'Thalas and Dalaran, as well as the Ranger. (To be continued.)