On the frontal battlefield, the battle is extremely hot. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

After the Soladin Wall suppressed the Alliance, the Horde was in dire need of an outlet to divert their internal attention and their people's anger.

Of course, Orgrim found it—and rightfully so, it was Gul'dan's betrayal.

Orgrim directly mobilized the two brothers, Red and Maim, to lead a full 50,000 men to hunt down the Twilight Hammer and Storm Predator clans under Gul'dan, in addition to a considerable number of dragoons.

The chairman of the NPC National Committee is right when he says, 'If you go outside, you must first settle inside.'"

Orgrim did this in a comical way.

He also wants to get rid of Gul'dan quickly, and then stay up until winter, and wait for more orcs to come from the Dark Gate, and then regroup next spring and come to the Lordaeron continent again.

After all, with the bridgehead of the Arathi Heights, there is no need to fight those extremely disgusting naval battles and landing battles. If you can't do it, just open a road to Sintland in the ultra-high-altitude mountains between the Arathi Highlands and Hinterland, and it will depend on how well the League defends the long front.

Unfortunately, he faced Duke.

The goose plucks its feathers, and Duke aims to maximize the damage to the tribe's living forces.

Brother is not here, and there are legends of brother everywhere.

Duke is gone, but his plan is still epoch-making and instructive. That's right, Orgrim's last 10,000 men were indeed to avoid the Alliance's pursuit, almost day and night, crossing the Alterac Mountains again, and then crossing the whole of Hinterland, and returning to the Lookout Cliff.

On the shore of the cliff that looked at the sea, Gul'dan did destroy many ships, but there were still a lot left. After three days of fighting overnight with a few few laborers, Orgrim finally had the ships he needed to cross the seas with more than 13,000 orcs and more than 1,000 trolls.

Now that the Black Hand Brothers have been dispatched, Orgrim naturally wants to return to the wetlands first, and after reorganizing the clans, regroup and stabilize the front line of the Arathi Heights.

Orgrim gritted his teeth and swore that he too would learn from humans to build bunkers.

That's right, build a fortress east of the Wall of Soladin that even humans must pay 100,000 lives to have a chance to fall!

It is a pity that his ambition has not yet been realized, and he has been hit hard again.

Come to think of it, knowing that Orgrim can only roll back to the southern continent from Hinterland, Duke will not be prepared to do so.

Moreover, it seems that God has no interest in protecting these foreign butchers of the tribe, and just half an hour after Orgrim's fleet sailed, it was met with a storm.

In this day and age, any sailor with a little experience will act according to the sky.

Unfortunately, Ogrim's men are muscular men who want to conquer the sea by brute force.

They did it, and then they were punished.

The wind unleashed a terrifying triangle of waves a full ten meters high, easily overturning all the small, newly-built transports. Only those transports that had been built early in the morning and were in better condition barely survived the storm.

However, just as the storm subsided, Orgrim was ambushed by Naga and the Fish-Man Legion before he could count his men's losses.

"Hahaha! in the name of Master Duke Marcus, kill all the greenskins!" said Vala, the Priest of the Naga Scales, laughing heartily.

"Oooo

Countless fish-people flew from the bottom of the sea at a depth of ten meters to the surface of the sea at high speed. The impact of the storm on the bottom of the sea is very small, basically the wind and waves are not felt below ten meters above sea level, just the fish people simply pick up human heads, drown those who drowned, or those who were thrown to the sea to struggle, and then cut off the human heads, and turned back to the place designated by Duke to offer human heads as a messenger.

Now, countless fishmen, armed with rudimentary weapons, rushed to the surface and climbed aboard the low orc transports on the side of the ship, bullying the orcs who had been battling the storm for hours on end, exhausted of their strength.

They shook the not-too-wide orc transport, leaving the orcs completely unstable. In a violently rocking ship, the heavy weapons that the orcs were proud of became a burden.

Transport ship after transport ship was captured by the Fishmen.

"No—" Ogrim cried out in tears.

However, he could only watch this scene happen from the flagship, and he couldn't do anything about it.

The Great Chief never thought that the last elite of the Blackstone Clan would be buried here. You know, this is the last group of Blackstone orcs who have experienced the Draenei wars and have the most experience and the strongest physique. They are the best of the best.

They won the battle against the Draenei who were playing with the Light. They are at the vanguard of the expedition to Azeroth. They have slain more than 100,000 humans in the Elwyn Forest, then slain the long-eared High Elves, destroyed Alterac, fought under the city of Lordaeron, and stormed the Alliance's northern camp.

They have never succumbed to any enemy, but they will perish here because they are not good at water?

"Great Chief, go!" Torgis of the Dragonthroat Clan swooped down at high speed with the Wyvern, letting the dragon hover in the air. The dragon turned its serpentine neck and let out a terrifying dragon roar at the fish-people in the distance.

It's a pity that there is only one dragon, and it flew with it to cover the big chief. Ordinary red dragons don't have that much physical strength and can stay in the air for so long. Only dragons over a thousand years old can cast a gravity-defying magic on themselves, allowing their massive bodies to levitate in the air almost effortlessly.

"Great Chief, you go. The damn fish-man has already started digging into the bottom of the boat. Hammak, the captain of Orgrim's guard, said.

The dragon is the overlord of the sky, but not the overlord of the seabed. No matter how strong the dragon's breath is, it is impossible to evaporate the entire Endless Sea. The dragon could do nothing about the fish-man digging the bottom of the ship under the command of Mogol.

"No, I can't abandon you. Looking at these good brothers who have been with him for more than ten years, Ogrim's eyes are red.

"No, you must abandon us, for the sake of the Horde!" the orc warriors stared at Orgrim, a few dozen glances, as if they were not looking at their Great Chieftain, but at the last flickering flame of hope in the wasteland of despair and destruction.

For the Horde!

This sentence pierced Orgrim's heart deeply.

These brothers of the Blackstone clan didn't know how bad the battle was, nor did they know who had brought their world to ruin, but they still silently raised their weapons and continued to fight.

They did it for one and only one reason - for the sake of the tribe.

Yes, they were wrong, they were wrong, they believed in the wrong Guldan, and they started a wrong war.

But for the sake of the continuation of the race, they can only make mistakes again and again.

But no one regrets it, and for the same reason-

For the Tribe!(To be continued.) )