The world of Draenor has long been shattered and withered, and it is because the orcs can no longer live in their own world, this world is on the verge of death, and there is no hope in sight, so they are forced to rush into Azeroth with Gul'dan, wanting to rob another world to let their people live.

These rampaging invaders are actually a group of refugees who have been sacrificed by darker plots, but not all orcs follow Blackhan. The Black Hand High Chief has rushed into another world, and in the ruined world of Draenor, there are still many orcs.

Either the old and sick who the Great Chief looked down on, or the pure-blooded orcs who rejected the "bounty" of demonic blood and chose to self-exile, or some fugitives who had long felt the endless darkness hidden beneath the dying world.

In short, in this broken world, life is still tenacious and difficult.

Sitting cross-legged on a hill in Shadowmoon Valley, Garona chewing at the jerky and water she had with her, her distinctive orc cheeks covered in dust and her leather armor tattered, it was clear that her journey had not been smooth.

It took her half a month to cross the eastern continent of Azeroth and return to her homeland through the Dark Gate, it was a difficult and long journey, but she had to complete it because she longed for freedom!

"Hmm"

Garona finished eating the last piece of jerky, she stood up, the wound on her waist began to hurt again, the big eyes of the orcs narrowed, a flash of pain flashed across her face, the vicious Broken Hand Assassins liked to poison their vicious fist blades, torturing their enemies in this way, although she had dodged the fatal blow in the raid 2 days ago, but when she fought back against the ferocious orc assassin, Garona was still bruised.

Covering the wound on her waist with her left hand, she slowly jumped into the darkness and made her swift progress in the direction Gul'dan had told her.

"They're all crazy! The demons have manipulated their will, and Orgrim is doomed! ”

The orc assassin cursed in a low voice, most of the wounds on her body were left while crossing the Hellfire Peninsula adjacent to the Dark Gate, which was once Blackhan. Where the Black Hand exiled those disobedient clans, the Warsong Clan, the Skull Clan, the Broken Hand Clan, and the Thunder King Clan, who had been unable to control themselves because they had drunk the blood of demons, were thrown there.

The Great Chief didn't want these precious warriors to die, he just excluded these warlike clans from the first invaders in this way, deliberately torturing the will of those warriors to "wake up" from the fight to the death, which used to be a good way, but Blackhan's death caused these reserve warriors to be completely forgotten.

Although Orgrim immediately sent an emissary to ask the clans to join the invasion of Azeroth, the clan had formed an undying hatred during the long battle, and Orgrim's messenger died under the sneaky assassination before he reached the Hellfire Fortress.

As a result, the form of the Hellfire Peninsula is even crazier, ten times crazier than the most terrifying battlefield in Azeroth!

Walking in the dark, Garona has little loyalty to the tribe, and is even full of hatred.

Her full name is "Garona. Haver Orson", the surname means "half-orc", which is a very insulting word in orc society, and her birth is a tragedy, it was at a time when the orcs had just drunk the blood of demons, and they launched a mad slaughter against another large race in the world of Draenor, the Draenei of mysterious origin.

In that massacre that spread all over the world, many Draenei women were treated unspeakably, and it was because of this that Garona was born, with only half orc blood in her body, but the other half of the blood gave her the rare wisdom and thinking of orcs, as well as the agility and cunning that orcs simply did not have, and it was because of this that she was able to survive the difficult teenage years.

And there are many orcs like Garona, but unfortunately most of them died in the war years.

It was a painful past that Garona didn't want to recall, but it was so sweet compared to the years she had been taught by Gul'dan and spent in the Shadow Council.

After all, war can only torture her body, but Gul'dan tortures her soul...

"Found it!"

Garona searched the shallow sea silt at the edge of Shadowmoon Valley, and finally found the entrance to a grotto in the decaying spore mushroom forest, with the Shadow Council's emblem carved into it.

This made the orc assassin ecstatic inside, and she seemed to see freedom at hand, and if she shattered the eye of the Lord that controlled her mind, she would be able to achieve the liberation of her soul.

As she stepped into the dark cavern, as she heard the whispers of the scum of the Shadow Council hidden within, a human shadow came to her mind, causing the orc assassin to clench the monstrous dagger in his hand.

"Your Majesty, when I am free, I will go to atone for my sins... Atonement for you and your people! ”

Gritting her teeth, Garona meditated on the future in her heart, and under the manipulation of Gul'dan, she killed Ryan of the Stormwind Kingdom with her own hands. King Ureon, this is her lingering nightmare, the king and his friends are probably the first beings in Garona's life to reach out to her of friendship.

They believed in Garona, they even took the initiative to protect Garona, there was a special friendship between them, Garona told the king many of the secrets of the tribe, which allowed her to win the king's trust, and for the orcs, the time of their activities in the Stormwind Kingdom was very memorable.

But she eventually killed her friend with her own hands, and when she plunged the dagger into Ryan's chest, she looked at the shock and loss in Ryan's eyes, the unforgivable betrayal and assassination tortured her mind every minute and every second, it was the first time that her soul began to actively rebel against Gul'dan, and she didn't want to live as an executioner like this anymore...

"Poof"

The recurved, spiked daggers, like poisonous snakes lurking in the dark, silently slashed through the throats of these orcs and ogres, injecting deadly toxins into their bodies, and in the blink of an eye, all their struggles became meaningless.

"The Kingkiller", this pair of daggers made especially for her by Gul'dan, its name originated from Garona's "great" act of assassinating King Lane, and now, the Kingkiller is held in the hands of the orcs and begins her self-redemption.

"Garona! Traitor! ”

An ogre awoke from his half-sleep, and he saw the corpses scattered all over the crypt, and the slender figure with a dagger in the darkness walking towards him, the ogre roared in terror:

"Gul'dan will kill you!"

"I'll kill him! I swore by that! ”

A flash of mad hatred flashed in Garona's eyes, and her figure disappeared in place, the ogre subconsciously held up the shield, but the moment before the magic shield enveloped the body, the kingkiller's sharp and cold blade pierced the ogre's heart, and the burning toxin that seemed to ignite the body was injected into the huge body, causing the ogre to kneel on the ground in pain.

"Where is the Eye of Juggernaut?"

There was no emotion in Garona's voice, and the indifference sent chills through the body, and the ogre struggled to speak, but the next moment, the orc's blade slashed through his throat again.

Blood splattered, the orc didn't need the ogre's answer anymore, she looked up, she could see the dark orb hanging from the stone wall by chains, the orc's eyes flashed with strong longing, she waved her hand, and between the daggers, the orb full of shadow energy was shattered by her own hands.

"Huh"

A flash of red light flashed through her, and she felt a relaxation in her soul, Gul'dan didn't lie to her, this orb was indeed a thing to manipulate her will, but it wasn't enough.

The freedom of the soul does not mean the freedom of the heart, and Garona can still feel that the darkness surging in her heart has not subsided, and that miscellaneous deceive her! More than that! There must have been others who still had the means to manipulate her mind.

"It's not freedom!"

The orc stood in the darkness in pain, her hands clutching her hair, and she frantically tried to scream, but in the end, she didn't.

"I should have known... The freedom I want, not here. ”

Her figure vanished into the darkness, she was going back to Azeroth, she was going to find the only one she could trust.

"Khadgar... Help me, my friend. ”

Gul'dan is like a poisonous snake, every word he says is like a poisonous venom, and it cannot be trusted! And the freedom he promised has always been a longed-for but unattainable... Illusion.

Perhaps it was never dark magic that bound this half-orc, it was herself who bound her, her remorse, her betrayal, her weakness, her greed for warm feelings... All of this formed the chains that bound Garona forever, and she could not break free.

At the same time that Garona smashed the Orb of Shadows, on the Endless Sea of Azeroth, Tyrion sat on the side of a fast-moving ship, and it was already dark at this time, and he was accustomed to thinking about things at this time, so as not to let the memories of the past invade his mind again.

For the undead, the more beautiful the memories, the more painful the memories dissipate, and the constant recollection of the past is the beginning of self-destruction.

"I knew I could find you here."

A deep voice rang out behind Tyrion, and the orc Death Knight stepped up and sat down next to Tyrion, and after that night, Glokush became much more "cheerful", at least not as silent as before.

The two Death Knights looked at the cold sea under the moonlight, and no one broke the silence, until a few minutes later, when Glokush suddenly spoke:

"I say, Tyrion."

"Huh?"

"Are you really going to Draenor? I can't even imagine what the hell that place looks like now, maybe it's completely finished. ”

The black hand of the former Great Chief paused, and he accentuated his tone:

"There's really no hope in that world!"

"We are dead, we don't need hope, Glokush, who could be better suited to rule a lost world than a dead man?"

Tyrion leaned back, his arms propped up on the deck, he looked up at the bright moon in the sky, the icy moonlight shining on them, making the Death Knight feel a rare comfort.

"There's no bronze dragon there, there's no guardian there... It's a free world, Glokush, where we'll gather strength, and no one will bother us until we have enough..."

A hint of hideousness skipped in Tyrion's ice-blue eyes:

"We will return to this world and smash everything that stands in our way! Bring out all the conspirators in the darkness and let them kneel on the ground and be punished! We're going to make our wish come true, we're going to smash the damn shackles once and for all! Our persistence now is not worth much, but it is the only thing we really have, the last inch of our territory, in that inch of territory... Maybe, maybe we're free. ”

Glokush was noncommittal about Tyrion's obsession, he had no regrets, he challenged fate like a reckless knight, perhaps his last adventure after death, and this arrogant future did not make him feel disgusted.

A stiff smile appeared on the Death Knight's face, and he whispered:

"It's the first time I've heard someone use the word 'freedom' to describe Draenor, Tyrion, and you say, when will we, the cursed dead, be truly free? ”

The question silenced Tyrion, and after a few minutes he said, somewhat uncertainly:

"Probably, probably, there is no kind of freedom in this world that is reserved for the dead, and it is safe to be buried in the earth? Soul to hell? I know what lies in the abyss of hell, and to go there is only worse enslavement, at least in this world, at this time of year, all freedom is an illusion for you and me, not worth pursuing. ”

The Death Knight sighed:

"Look at the water, Glokush, it's never the things that can be seen, but the things that can't be seen, you know? The things we can't see, in this infinitely spreading and identical future, there are everything, and I can see them clearly... But there is no freedom except freedom. ”

"Maybe in the future, there will be a kind of freedom reserved for the dead."

The image of General Lilesa before his death appeared in front of Tyrion again, and although he did not want to recall, the memory still stubbornly filled his mind again, and he remembered the tears of his relatives before they died, and he patted the orc on the shoulder and whispered:

"Anyway, since there will still be people crying for us... Then I thought, let's... Then live well, even if it's in this cursed posture. ”

Tyrion looked up, and in the line of vision before his eyes, the moonlight and the world... It was all so cold, pale, without a trace of temperature and color, but Gul'dan was dead, and everything he needed was already in hand, and it was time to start moving on towards the set goal.