With huge hands stained with blood and colorful brains, Orgrim displayed the most primitive and savage violence. The pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info can't help but remind the orcs of how their ancestors, without weapons, used their strong physique, fists, teeth, and arms to fight wild beasts, and struggled to survive in the desolate wilderness.

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

"Oooo

"Orgrim!

Just a few minutes ago, the orcs were angrily insulting Orgrim, but after a few minutes, Orgrim was the most prominent star of the tribe.

Kilrog*DeadEye* opened his seemingly cloudy right eye, and said slowly, "Orgrim*, Hammer of Destruction, you have cleared your suspicions and restored your reputation!

Orgrim substituted his action for an answer, and with a blood-stained step, he pulled a flag from a tent on the sidelines.

It was the banner of the Blackstone Clan that belonged to his Hammer of Destruction.

With a flick of his hand, the battle flag with black stripes on a red background fell to the middle of the field.

"I, Orgrim*, the Hammer of Destruction, begin here [Makgoras] and challenge for the position of High Chief! I will accept the challenge of at least six warriors until I ascend to the position of High Chief, or - die!"

Despite the multiple stabs in his body, and despite the fact that every wound still bleeds from Orgrim's activities, Orgrim's heartfelt roar still spread throughout the camp.

"Ho!ho!ho!ho!" was the rhythmic cheers of the orcs, and nothing made their blood boil more than a bloody warrior participating in the battle of the Great Chief.

No matter how much you don't admit it, it's an indisputable fact that the tribe has just won a crushing victory.

Weak humans are far more cunning than the orcs imagined, and the entire tribe is in dire need of a true king who can lead the tribe to conquer this planet!

The orcs shouted and admired, raised their crude weapons in their hands, and stomped the earth with their feet, as if to make the earth tremble, and let the earth cheer for the new Great Chief who was about to appear!

A clan banner painted with three teeth was thrown into the field, and it was a Bladetooth clan with a thousand warriors.

As a small clan, Lamrim, the chief of the Bladefang Clan, was not a very strong orc. Among the orcs, he is definitely considered skinny.

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

"Orgrim—" Lamrim roared loudly, but his movements were reminiscent of nimble bobcats. Aiming at Ogrim's injured right leg, Lamrim moved around Ogrim's injured leg at high speed.

Orgrim was indeed affected, and the moment he turned and couldn't keep up, Lamrim pounced.

The cold light of the two crossed scimitars flashed, and there was an incomparably scarlet cross blood mark on Orgrim's broad back, and the flesh was torn open by the barbs on the scimitar blade, which was shocking!

When Lamrim landed a blow and tried to pull away, Orgrim countered.

In the sunlight, the heavy hammer of destruction glows jet-black as it spins. There are no tricks, the only thing is fast.

It's incredibly fast.

It's going crazy.

It was swift beyond what Lamrim's naked eye could capture.

In the blink of an eye, his slightly slender body was directly split in half by an incomparably huge machete under just one powerful blow.

Time was like a freeze, Lamrim's chest and lower body were still suspended in mid-air, but the abdomen that was hit instantly exploded into a rain of flesh and bones, exploding in the direction of the hammer!

As if a full three seconds had passed, Lamrim still fell into a pool of blood with his unbelieving eyes, along with his upper body that carried the eyeballs.

Kill with a hammer, domineering!

"Next!" Orgrim's loud voice sounded to the orc's ears no different from the beating of a drum.

Another battle flag was tossed into the field, and a minute later, Orgrim had another scar on his shoulder and another corpse on the ground.

"Next!" The same blow, the same voice, the same tone that never changed.

However, under the paving of the corpses of the three chiefs, Orgrim's shouting took on a different meaning.

The chieftain, who considered himself weaker, replied with silence. At this moment, no one is left to chance. Although the onlookers were still enthusiastic. Among the people who are really qualified to participate in [Makogora], there is a brief cold scene.

It took half a minute before the fourth battle flag was thrown.

Three minutes later, the fifth side.

Ten minutes later, the sixth side!

By the time the seventh flag was thrown, Orgrim had become a Bloody Man. No one could tell if it was Orgrim's blood or the blood of his enemies.

None of the six chiefs were corpsed, and all of them were reduced to bloody pieces of flesh.

From the small chieftain who was unknown at the beginning, to the chief of the 10,000-person clan later. The challengers are escalating, and Ogrim's injuries are getting worse.

Now, whoever goes up must weigh his own weight first.

The seventh banner was thrown, and out came an orc with no left hand, a long scimitar below his left arm, and dark skin.

Not because he cut off his left hand in the war, but because he was a warrior of the Broken Palm Clan.

One of the most brutal and vicious orc clans in the tribe, the Shattered Palm warriors have a tradition of abandoning their left hand for a razor-sharp blade, ready to fight for the glory of the clan.

"Ogrim, you are indeed powerful, but your path to the Great Chief will end here with me, Canard Blade Fist. ”

The tribes are also divided into three, six, nine and so on, and only the chiefs of the small clans have the right to challenge, but in the larger clans, those recognized warriors also have the right to challenge [Makogora]. For example, in 'history', Orgrim challenged the Black Hand as the deputy chief of the Blackstone Clan, and successfully ascended to the throne by killing the Black Hand.

Glancing at Canard Blade Fist, Ogrim's rugged face showed a bit of disdain.

"You can't, change your chief Kargas. ”

"Huh, you're tired, you're badly injured, Orgrim!" Canard snapped forward.

"Your temperament is only worthy of finding a seriously injured opponent. The sarcasm on Orgrim's face grew stronger: "Yes, I'm tired, I'm hurt, but a guy like you, even if I come a thousand more, I'll kill them all!" )