While the dust swamp was full of smoke, on this slightly cold night, the orcs were located in the city of Orgrim in Durontar, and there were also bright lights, although at this time, most of the orcs had fallen asleep after a day's work, but this was a fighting race after all, and even in a calm night, there were a group of soldiers patrolling the city.

Different from the habit of human beings to build castles with rocks, the place where the orcs lived, more like the tent of the nomadic tribe combined with the form of a part of the war fortress, mostly with solid wood to build several layers of guard towers, in order to ensure the solidity of the guard tower, there is also a part of specially treated masonry at the bottom, under the fortress built of wood and animal skin, there are also the traditional crypts of the orcs.

This huge orc city is full of war towers of all sizes, as well as large fortresses with a strong orc style, all of which are inhabited by chiefs and shamans.

The social civilization of the orcs has a strong class meaning, they are brave and warlike, hard-working, each orc will be assigned his own tasks after adulthood, when he joins the army, he must also start from the lowest level of hard labor, in the army, the superior has absolute control over the subordinate, except for the period when the orcs drank the blood of the devil, the orc army has always been known for its strict discipline, and any soldier who violates military discipline will be punished with cruel whipping.

Such a civilization is simply born for war, there is very little meaningless leisure in the orc society, and even when you go out hunting, there is a special hunter team, living in such an environment will definitely feel oppressive, but under the rule of the chiefs, few orcs will express dissatisfaction.

Because the chieftains not only enjoy a very high standard of honor and material living, once the war breaks out, the chieftains will inevitably lead the army to block the civilians, in the orc tradition, defeat or surrender is extremely humiliating, so the orthodox orcs are more willing to die on the battlefield.

In extremely brutal wars, tribal chieftains are often the first to die... Therefore, no one would question the status of the chiefs.

This is the civilization of the orcs, the shadow of war is engraved in every corner of their lives, their unique civilization system evolved from nomadic clans, and human civilization are two completely different paths, you can say that they are barbaric by nature, but after really understanding the social system of the orcs, you can't say that they are not civilized enough... They just aren't the civilization most people think they are.

The orc soldiers who were guarding the Gromash fortress where the chiefs were discussing the issue saw several figures walking briskly in the night, and they watched the people with wary eyes, and under the light of the torch planted at the gate of the fortress, they quickly saw the comers.

"Wow"

The two orc soldiers immediately put their fists on their chests and thumped them, while the older of the orc guards greeted in a deep voice:

"Thrall Overseer, Captain Garrosh, and Captain Draranos, the chiefs are in the hall, do you need me to report to the chiefs on your behalf?"

"No, you don't!"

The dignified-looking young orc Thrall waved his hand, and he whispered:

"We happen to have something to report to the chiefs as well."

After saying that, the three young orcs walked into the fortress of Grommash, this fortress inherited the tradition of the orcs, and was not ornately decorated like a human palace, it was a larger house, with a wooden floor on the floor of the hall, on which the tribal emblems were painted in the style of the orcs, and around the circular hall, the battle flags of the six major clans of the tribe were placed, and the chiefs of each clan sat under their respective battle flags.

On the three stairs facing the gate was a wooden seat decorated with the skull of a demon lord, covered with the fur of thunder lizards and war wolves, and the entire hall was as bright as daylight under the light of several bonfires lit in several large braziers.

As the three of them entered the hall, the chiefs were discussing something, and on the floor in front of them lay a large map sewn from several animal skins, showing the terrain of the entire eastern coast of Kalimdor, with hills and ravines that could be seen clearly at a glance.

"Garrosh?"

Hearing the shaking of the door of the hall, Grom, the chief of the Warsong clan, turned his head and saw his son, who frowned and cried out:

"You should patrol the city! What are you doing here? ”

Garrosh didn't answer, and Sal stepped forward, looked at the chiefs in front of him, and said in a loud voice:

"Our scouts have discovered the war in the Dust Swamp, the ogres and centaurs are besieging the human settlers, and Garrosh and I have come to ask the High Chief for permission to support the humans."

"Stupid!"

Before Orgrim, who was sitting in the position of the Great Chieftain, could speak, the chief of the Broken Hand Clan on the other side, Kargas, who was on the other side, first scolded:

"The adults are discussing the problem, and the juniors are standing aside first! Is this how the prophet of the Frostwolf Clan educates the juniors? ”

"Ahem, Thrall is the Overseer of the Frostwolf Clan, and it's his freedom to do whatever he wants."

Sitting under the frostwolf battle flag, the old shaman Drektar coughed lightly, his eyes with black strips of cloth twisted to the position of Kargas, and said without backing down:

"Besides, the Frostwolf Clan's internal affairs can't be meddled by the Broken Hand Clan, right?"

"I also think that Kargas, your hand is too long, right?"

Fenris, the chief of the Thunder King clan, stroked the head of the wolf lying on the side with his hand, and said playfully:

"Sal, Garrosh and Dranosh, these three young men have sacrificed and contributed much more to the new tribe than you and your madmen! When the young hero speaks, I think you should... Shut up! ”

The atmosphere in the hall became a little weirder, the Broken Hand Chief snorted coldly, while the Great Chief seemed to be closing his eyes and recuperating, the representative of the Blood Ring Clan wanted to say something, but considering the current situation in the tribe, he finally sat quietly in his chair and did not say a word.

Kilrog, the chief of the Blood Ring Clan. Bloodeye is taking his son Jorin and his people to prevent a demonic invasion in the wilderness of Azhara north of Durontar, so the meeting of chiefs is attended by the old shaman Kilrog's most trusted old man, who has lived through the craziest times of his tribe, he is always accustomed to listening before speaking.

"You're going to help humanity? Tell me, Sal, is your always smart brain broken? ”

Warsong Chief Grom leaned back in his chair, the former top warrior was now very thin due to the torment of poison, and although he was still in good shape, it could be seen from the wrinkles on his face and gray hair that the chieftain was not as energetic as before.

In fact, not only Grom, but the entire hall except for Orgrim, Drektar, and the old shaman of the blood ring, the other chieftains all have strong sequelae caused by poisonemia, and the demonic blood in their bodies is drying up, and the thirst for evil energy is tormenting their minds every minute and every second.

Sal hesitated a little in the face of Grom's questioning, and he stole a glance at the Great Prophet and the Great Chief, and saw no disapproval on the faces of the two men he respected the most, so he replied loudly:

"Nope! Chief Gromache, I have come to this conclusion after careful consideration. ”

"Let's not mention our grudge with the humans, if the ogre and centaur are allowed to destroy the human forces in the dust swamp and let them loot enough supplies, the power of these two barbarians will grow rapidly, I have heard about our feud with the Kokar centaurs, once the centaur clan recovers, those vengeful bastards will definitely turn to Durontar."

Thrall's analysis made the Great Prophet nod in satisfaction, and Grom. Hell roared and rubbed his chin, and after a moment, he also bowed slightly, what Sal said was indeed very reasonable, those barbarian centaurs were indeed to be guarded against.

But Grom had his own set of plans, and he looked at Sal and said in a deep voice:

"Then let the Minotaurs of Mogore fight, they have a feud with the centaurs, they are definitely willing to attack the empty rear camp of the centaurs from behind at this juncture, and the guards of the barren land can also be dispatched to help the minotaurs fight the centaurs, after all, the minotaurs are already a member of the tribe, but you, I don't allow you to go out!"

Thrall wanted to retort, but Fenris, the chief of the Thunder King clan, also spoke, and the eyes of the powerful wolf cavalry looked at the silent Dranosh for a moment, and he said:

"What Grom said makes sense, the blood feud between humans and orcs is difficult to resolve, and we sent our fleet to help them, which has caused dissatisfaction among many clansmen, in this case, your status as the future chief of the frostwolf clan, taking the initiative to help humans, can easily cause divisions within the tribe."

"Split? It's impossible to split! ”

Sal retorted:

"The Great Chief and you have seen with your own eyes the power of the Darkblade Undead of the Eastern Continent, those undead will not be able to let us develop in Kalimdor, their minions will one day come to this land, even... They may have already come, the Human Empire resisted the Darkblade Undead and was forced to move west in less than 10 years, and the tribes that have not yet recovered are not stronger than the Human Empire? ”

"Chiefs, I'm going to help the human settlers, not just because of the threat of centaurs and ogres to Durontar, but because of the future! In every sleep I can see a future in which there is no distinction between humans and orcs, and even the mighty Night Elves are only one of the destroyed! ”

"Will the undead let us go just because we're orcs?"

"Will the undead treat us favorably because we don't save humanity?"

"Will the undead set us free because we are too timid to face a challenge?"

"Chiefs!"

Sal's voice became muffled:

"The Darkblade didn't go to war for the sake of the Human Empire alone... Humanity has fallen, and we may be next, if we don't help humanity in the moment of life and death, if we don't help when the Night Elves face the demonic threat, then wait until the dark tide of the undead lands across the Endless Sea..."

"Who's going to help the orcs? Who's going to help us? ”

"Forget it, Sal, don't tell this to these old stubborns, they have been at war with humans for too long, and they are all blinded by hatred."

Garrosh stepped forward and grabbed Sal's shoulder, he looked at his silent father with some disappointment, and then, as if venting, said loudly:

"Let's go to Bane and Woking, they don't want to send troops to help, we'll figure it out ourselves!"

Thrall's retort and Garrosh's roar left the other chiefs a little speechless, the reason is very simple, every orc chief here can understand, but the problem is that understanding is understanding, and the chiefs also have their own difficulties.

The most irascible chieftain Kargas shouted:

"Stupid little cubs, you don't know anything! Humanity has human troubles, we have ours, and what we are facing now is..."

"Enough! Kargas, shut up! ”

The Great Chieftain Orgrim, who had been keeping his eyes closed, suddenly opened his mouth to interrupt Kargas's roar, he opened his eyes and looked at the others, and after a moment he turned his gaze to the three young men of Sal, and he said in a deep voice:

"Thrall, you are the overseer of the Frostwolf Clan, legally you have full control over the Frostwolf Clan, as well as Garrosh and Draranos, your identities are very sensitive, once you make the wrong choice, it is easy to make the tribe's hearts fluctuate... But what you say is also true, hatred must be eliminated, Lothar is dead... The older generation is starting to wither, and the future is yours, so... Do what you want! ”

"But there's a point! I don't allow you to mobilize all the soldiers in your tribe who currently have a mission, you can only recruit the fighters you need in the reserves yourself! And the number can't be more than 3,000, understand? ”

Thrall's eyes suddenly flashed with a gleam, he nodded, and then walked out of the fortress with the indignant Garrosh and the silent Draenos, and looked at the backs of the young men leaving, and the Broken Hand Chief Kargas whispered:

"Why don't you tell them the truth? If they are going to inherit the chieftain of the tribe in the future, then they should know this..."

"It's not time yet, Kargas..."

Orgrim whispered:

"We old bones can still hold the tribe on another journey, and we have to clear the way for the children before they can really grow up... Come on, continue what you haven't said before, Fenris, and tell me about the discoveries of your wolf cavalry. ”

"Hmm."

The chief of the Thunder King clan nodded, then squinted his eyes and said:

"There are more and more tribes going missing in Ashenvale during wartime, and three days ago, the Scouts of the Thunder King were attacked around the lumberyards in the eastern part of Ashenvale, but not those pesky Night Elves, but... It's an orc who has drunk demon blood and is delirious. ”

"We've all drunk demon blood, and the scouts can tell the oddities of the orcs, brothers... The demons who tricked us into drinking the blood of the demons are here... Moreover, they are hiding in the Ash Valley. ”

Kargas answered:

"Orgrim City's Dark Alleys have recently seen some demon-believing maniacs reactivate."

"It's not the worst."

The Great Prophet Drektar said sorrowfully:

"What I'm most worried about right now is that if those demons trick those fools who have drunk the demon's blood into attacking the camp of the Night Elves, if they deliberately provoke a conflict between the two races, we won't be able to argue."