"My son ......"

In the snow and ice, old Sarufar knelt on the ground, screaming in pain.

In the battle that had just passed, he saw his son fall under the Lich King's sword. He was close to the Lich King, but he couldn't save his son's life.

He was dragged alive, from the chaotic, plague-ridden battlefield.

But he would rather die there, fighting and dying in that land with his own children. However, the Great Chieftain's order was to keep him alive. Only by living can there be hope.

Even if it is to save the life of your own child? Sarufar knew it was impossible. It is impossible for a dead life to be resurrected, and even if it is resurrected, it will be resurrected in the form of a dead spirit, and in that case, it will no longer be his son.

The old orc roared in pain, and the heart-wrenching roar resounded through the heavens and the earth, which was moving.

"I'm going to get him a blanket."

Itreig said.

"No, forget it, he needs to be quiet for a while. None of us should bother him. ”

Thrall stopped. His blue eyes gleamed with grief, but more with despair. Yes, the Alliance and the Horde have suffered a crushing defeat under Icecrown, and they have lost their last chance to march into Icecrown. Those are the best warriors in Azeroth, and no legion can travel long distances to get here, eradicate the Scourge undead, and eradicate the Lich King.

They had no warriors, no supplies, no siege weapons, and many were infected with the plague.

It's desperate, like this endless winter, haunting everyone's heart.

"Should we retreat? Great Chief? ”

Woking walked up and asked in a low voice. The Darkspear tribes, like the orcs, suffered heavy losses in this dark battle, their unloaded arms can be reborn, but the plague cannot be cured.

Woking, like Sal, felt despair in his heart.

"I should go and meet Ares and hear what he thinks."

Thrall rose from the silence, and he looked at the snow outside the tent, and made a decision.

……

Thick cotton shoes are stepped on in the snow, forming deep footprints. When Sal and Itreg arrived at the Alliance's base camp, a high-profile mourning service was underway. Commander of the Alliance, Stormwind Lions, great Varian. King Ureon had died of a serious illness three days earlier.

Sal never imagined that he had come by such a wrong chance. The alliance was even hostile to him again.

However, Ares received him anyway. Because the High Lord knew that it was not the fault of the Horde, the Horde, like the Alliance, had suffered heavy losses under the Icecrown Fortress City. The Lich King's indiscriminate slaughter burned Azeroth's elite forces for decades. It was no longer possible for them to carry out a real Northern Expedition. Perhaps, the road of the Northern Expedition will come to an end. The Lich King will resurrect the warriors who died under Icecrown and make them part of the Scourge Legion.

In other words, the already weakened Scourge Legion has once again been replenished in terms of troops, and this time, their power will be unprecedentedly strong. The former elite of Azeroth have all become servants of the scourge of the undead. The scales of war have tipped in turn.

"I am deeply saddened by the sacrifice of your king. He was a great warrior, and the orcs revered such heroes. ”

Sal humbly said.

Ares was in a heavy mood, but he still let the orcs sit down across from him. Grand Lord...... It should be said that it is no longer as simple as a big lord. As soon as Varian died, Ares became the Supreme Commander of the Alliance.

He drove everyone out of the tent, and he was the only one who had a separate conversation with Thrall.

It was a difficult meeting, and every minute of it seemed so long.

From Thrall's mouth, Ares knew that two-thirds of the warriors of the Horde Expeditionary Force had died in that battle. Among them was the son of Sarufar, Dranosh. Sarufar. Like the Union, they lost the impetus and hope of the Northern Expedition. Or, after this battle, they will not be able to raise an army strong enough to rival the Lich King again.

"Needless to say, there is no one else here, Sal. I know what you're here for, and you're wondering what I think, whether the Alliance and the Horde still need to stay in Northrend. You and I both know that the Coalition is no match for the Lich King anymore. ”

Ares said simply.

There was silence on their faces.

Indeed, at this moment, it is too heavy to talk about such a topic.

"Yes, I wonder what you think...... There is no hope for us to stay here, and the gates of Icecrown Fortress are absolutely unshakable. With our current strength, we are all lucky to be able to get out of the glacier alive. Orcs have never been so pessimistic. But this time, we must take a fresh look at our situation. ”

Sal whispered back.

"But I want to stay here."

There was silence for a long time before Ares spoke slowly.

Thrall couldn't believe his ears, and he jerked his head up to see Ares's almost frozen face. It was so serious, serious and reverent.

It's just that Sal doesn't know, he doesn't know where the faith of the human in front of him comes from, what the hell is he thinking? The Azeroth coalition has been defeated, to put it simply, it no longer exists, and both the Horde and the Alliance have been battered like never before. Regardless, they will no longer be able to compete with the Lich King and the Scourge Legion.

"Are you crazy? Tell me your reasons! Otherwise, the tribe will not wait with you here to die. ”

Sal roared.

"The reason is simple, Sal. You haven't seen the destruction of the homes of the living by the Scourge legions, and the armies of the undead have been under the city of Lordaeron more than once. You don't understand what kind of fear it is for unarmed people to face an army of locust-like disasters. When Silvermoon City was slaughtered, ninety percent of the elves were slaughtered. You don't understand that despair and helplessness. ”

"So you're staying, in order to drag the Lich King's army to Northrend?"

Sal's emotions went from agitated to silent. Ares, who was originally such a despicable villain in his eyes, became tall in an instant.

"This is your chivalry?"

Sal asked in a low voice.

"Yes, fearlessness and sacrifice ......"

Ares replied.

They sat by the fire and were silent for a long time.

Thrall knew that if the situation was just in front of him, the tribe could not fight and not have to stay in Northrend. Because the Lich King's next target is definitely Lordaeron. Let the Alliance, let humanity deal with it. What's the matter with the tribe? But when you think about it, it's about the traditional beliefs of the orcs, about the glory of the tribe. Taking a step back, the Scourge is a legion that comes back from the dead, and the more people who die, the stronger the legion becomes. If Lordaeron and Stormwind really fell one after another, then the Scourge Legion would already be an incomparably large legion at that time. In that case, there would be no more forces to deal with it. When that happens, the Lich King will swing his sword at Orgrimmar. In that case, there is no possibility for the tribe to survive.

But to stay here is obviously beyond the comprehension of the other orcs......

Thrall opened his eyes, and in his eyes was the beating light of the fire.