…… Chapter 236: Orcs

Gamblers always lose, nine out of ten bets.

This is a popular saying among the people, but is this sentence really the golden rule of absolute truth?

There is no absolutely correct theory in this world.

Either way, no one knows what's going to happen in the next second.

Even the "prophet" himself had to concentrate on discerning the truth from the falsehood of his prophecies. A small error in understanding and action can make a world of difference in the outcome of the same prophecy; Even the Bronze Dragon, the time controller who can freely shuttle through the past and future in time, may be lost in the tangled web of time, unable to extricate himself, and obsessed with the wrong timeline.

So when faced with a choice, no matter who makes any decision, it seems to have a bit of a gambling flavor in it, and the difference is just a matter of chance. Even if it seems to be a safe thing, it's not certain that something will happen in between.

Therefore, when faced with opportunities, if you don't have the courage to gamble, that kind of person can only be mediocre. Mediocrity may be the longest-lived, and they may not be drunk and depressed, but their lives are undoubtedly the most ordinary.

No one would say that Sal was a mediocre talent.

Even before he became the world's Sazar to save Azeroth and win the glory of glory, even Thrall's enemies would admit that the orc Great Chief was a wise and wise leader and the toughest and most difficult opponent to deal with.

If Don's previous invitation to the orcs to cross the Endless Sea to settle in Kalimdor planted a seed in Thrall's heart, then the tragic situation of the undead scourge ravaging Lordaeron caused this seed to take root, and the act of the god stick Medivan's "dream guidance" made this budding seedling grow into a towering tree in Thrall's heart, and finally made the new chief of the tribe determined to lead his people to this completely unfamiliar land, Kalimdor.

When faced with a fateful choice, Thrall also chose to gamble on the unknown fate and future of his people and compatriots......

As for the final outcome of this big gamble, there is no way to draw conclusions at this time...... But what could be worse than being imprisoned in a concentration camp without freedom, hopelessness, and fighting spirit?

Looking at the barren and dry red wasteland in front of him, there was no frustration or decadent frustration on Thrall's face, but the big hand that clenched the ruined hammer tightened and tightened, and his sharp eyes slowly changed from hesitation to determination. This is the hope of the orcs, the new home of the orcs!

Since you have nothing, start from scratch!

"Hasn't there been any news from the Kukaron sent out to investigate?" Patting the improvised tent tied up beside him, Thrall turned to the Sarufar brothers, who were sketching a simple map on a piece of parchment, and asked, "How long will our food stockpiles last?" ”

It's been a week since the orcs set foot on the land of Kalimdor. Soon after landing, Thrall, who had just established himself in this red wasteland, dispatched the elite of Kukaron, who had only been formed for less than half a year, to reconnoiter the surrounding information - the terrain, the surrounding forces, the indigenous creatures, drinking water and food sources...... For a race that has just landed on a completely unfamiliar land, this qiē needs to be explored as much as possible.

"Of the twenty squads of Kukaron guards, seventeen have returned." Dressed in a powerplate suit, Varok Sarufar heard Thrall's inquiry, looked up from the pile of parchment and replied without the slightest sluggishness. "The terrain and forces of the fifty-kilometer radius have been explored. Even if there are some omissions due to the haste of the investigation, there should be no major hidden dangers. ”

"There are three other squads that have been moving west to investigate, but they haven't made contact with Goode's compatriots yet."

For a clever commander who has experienced countless battles, it is natural that the information returned by these scouts will be firmly remembered by King Sarufar. Putting down the quill in his hand made of chocobo tail feathers, King Sarufar stopped what he was doing and continued to report to Sal:

"According to the scouts' information, three intelligent creatures mentioned by Goode have been found near our landing site: boar people, harpies, and centaurs. And among these three races, judging from the current intelligence, except for those who have a large number of wild boar people who can pose a little threat to us, there is nothing else to worry about. ”

"Of course, it is also possible that the area we are currently exploring is not large enough to find other settlements of these races, so the necessary defenses need to be established as soon as possible, just in case."

Listening to King Sarufar's report, Thrall bowed slightly, his clever brain racing at high speed, trying to deduce other information from the known information. Blox, who was on the side, thought for a moment and added with some concern: "We have not much food left when we cross the sea. It is estimated that only about a week's worth of rations for the whole clan remained. ”

"Fortunately, although this wasteland is barren and unsuitable, there is no shortage of food sources." The macho man who had traveled back in time to slash Sargeras by chance in the future smiled knowingly at this point, and then continued: "Itreig has organized the young men to hunt the wild boars, scorpions, and velociraptors, and the women and the old people are picking berries or going to the beach to hunt fish, shrimp, and crabs. Although the food source is not stable for the time being, it can be maintained for a long time in the short term, and there will be no large-scale famine. ”

"It's just that we need to find a stable source of food, or find a suitable piece of land for farming. Otherwise, the food problem will eventually become a big problem. After listening to Brooks Hyga's report, Thrall nodded and expressed his opinion, and after gaining the approval of the Sarufar brothers, he ordered: "Increase the scope of scouts, and focus on timber resources and cultivable land!" If you want to build a new home, these two are the most important things!"

Seeing the two lieutenants nodding yes, Sal, who had always maintained a happy mood, frowned and asked hesitantly, "......Where is Grom?"

The Sarufar brothers glanced at each other, and saw an imperceptible sadness and pathos in each other's eyes. After hesitating for a long time, King Sarufar sighed with a lonely expression and replied, "I'm weaker than before." ”

"I don't know what the reason is, this time the demon blood in Grum's body is worse than any previous time. If it weren't for Groom's tenacity...... I'm afraid I can't survive with another person. ”

The tone of King Sarufar was mournful, as the older orcs who drank the demon's blood with the roar of Grom*Hell, no one knows better than their generation how difficult the debilitating and painful situation can be for a brave orc warrior when the demon's blood is devoured!

What's more, Hell Roar was still the one who drank the most demonic blood back then, and the one that received the most backlash damage!

Unlike any of his fellow citizens, the demonic blood in Grom*'s Hellroar was as if it had never failed, and even if it could no longer provide him with great power, it still haunted him like a maggot of tarsal bones, causing him unbearable pain at all times......

"What are you doing behind my back, Varok?"

A joking laugh and curse reached everyone's ears, and the three orcs looked back, only to see Hell Roar using the blood roar as a crutch, staggering slowly. It's just that although the body of the roar of hell is still burly and strong, and although the laughter and scolding of the orc god of war are still rough and loud, it is difficult to hide his weakness at this time.

"Great Chief, are we in trouble?"

Despite the fact that Hellroar held a high status among the tribe as the recognized god of war of the orcs, Grom, who had always been rebellious, always maintained the respect he deserved for the great chief of the tribe. Whether it is Orgrim's hammer of ruin, who once looked down on the world, or Thrall, who is now younger...... Rushing to Sal gave a standard warrior chest-thumping salute, and Hell's Roar went straight to the point.

"Nothing...... We are just talking about finding a piece of land with plenty of timber resources and suitable for farming. How's it going, Grom, feeling better? ”

Thrall summoned the majestic elemental power around him, channeling a healing wave full of rich elemental power into Hellroar's tormented body, trying to ease his pain, and replied incorrectly.

"Grab a piece of land? Leave it to me! Hearing Thrall's answer, the orc god of war showed a confident smile and replied in the most logical words of the orcs: "As long as it's not the territory of the Minotaur of Gude and them, don't worry about anything!" ”

The strong thinking of hell's roar, everyone has become commonplace, and they have not refuted. Besides, "using the tomahawk in your hand to get land for the plough of the tribe" is the philosophy of the orcs, after all, what you can't get on the battlefield, you should never want to get at the negotiating table. However, hearing the application of Hell's roar, Brooks on the side was worried about his physical condition, and opened his mouth to stop:

"But Grom, your body ......"

But before Brooks could finish speaking, Hellroar had already waved his hand to interrupt the dissuasion of his old comrades, and said undoubtedly extremely strongly: "No one knows better than me what my body is like. Moreover, Drektar led the Frostwolf Clan back to the Alterac Valley, and the rest of his comrades had not yet completely emerged from the haze of the shelter. Those who can complete this task, except for the boys of our Warsong Tribe, are not the best choice! ”

"Don't worry, Brooks, I'm not too weak to fight!" Hell Roar picked up the bloody roar and smiled at the three people beside him, and the bloody and powerful momentum climbed wildly: "The only person in this world who can bring my life to an end is myself!" ”

In the midst of the roaring and powerful declaration of hell, a faint sound of a quaint trumpet came from afar. Several orcs in the conversation looked grim, and at the same time turned to look in the direction where the horn sound came from. The orc warriors who were originally busy stopped what they were doing in an instant, quickly put on their armor, grabbed their weapons, and lined up to be on guard!

At the other end of the horizon, smoke rose from the sky.

A tumbling and rushing torrent of steel rushed with a powerful momentum as thick and solemn as a mountain......

*JM