A kilometre south of Dunhold prison, another battle is underway.

Soldiers in Lordaeron's uniforms were battling the orcs in the ruins, screams and roars abound, and the earth twisted wildly.

In the center of the swirling rubble, an orc in a shabby black robe floated in the air, surrounded by countless rubble, whirling wildly with the howling wind.

A terrible scream hit the orc's eardrums, not full of fighting spirit or insults, but utter fear.

The ground seemed to respond to his plea and began to tremble, and the camp where Blackmore's soldiers were stationed was torn apart, and the surrounding walls began to crumble, and many soldiers who were still concentrating on fighting were crushed to their deaths by the falling stone walls.

Fear and screams were endless, but the orc under the black robe did not hesitate at all, without the slightest pity, he roared angrily, concentrating all the anger in his body on his hands.

After a long time, the terrible earthquake finally passed...

There was a faint moan from the ruins...

The black-robed orc closed his eyes, ignoring the human soldiers who were struggling in pain on the battlefield, he bowed slightly, bowed to the air, and then turned around and walked towards his fellow orcs behind him.

"Let's go. He waved his hand and said in a low voice, "Go and join the Hellroar." ”

The journey was not complicated, and after the black-robed orc and his more than a hundred orc warriors ran through the thorn forest, and then ran through a steep mountain, he saw a majestic figure.

Since the battle between humans and orcs a year ago, Grum Inferno roared, and the most powerful warrior of the Warsong tribe had a little more vicissitudes on his face.

For more than a year, Grom had been affected by demonic curses like the other orcs, and since their defeat in Lordaeron and the loss of contact with the evil powers, he had become sluggish and emaciated. But unlike most orcs, he has fought against the curse and has been roaming the Alterac Valley with wisdom and courage, leading the remnants of his clan from being captured by humans and sent to the Dunhold asylum.

The blood roar in his hand was still sharp, and the explosive muscles of his whole body seemed to swear the glory and strength of the orcs, and he had always believed that the orcs would rise again.

"Hammer of Doom..."

As the black-robed orc slowly ran towards Hell and roared, the latter patted him on the shoulder, "You'd better go and see it." ”

The black-robed orc's heart throbbed uneasily.

It couldn't be the Hammer of Doom, the Great Chief who once led the Iron Tribe, even after his defeat at Lordaeron, the abominable land of humanity still holds a high place in the hearts of the other orcs.

He couldn't be in danger ...

The black-robed orcs followed Hellroar, pushing away the crowded and boring orcs on the road and running all the way to Orgrim Doomhammer.

Once a great chieftain.

He has been blessed with countless brilliance and glory: leading a million steel lions to conquer Stormwind, slaying Generalissimo Lothar, and forcing the human alliance into a corner...

And now, this great chieftain with a brilliant life and countless battles seems to have come to the end of his life.

The black-robed orc gasped in horror.

The Hammer of Doom was leaning dying against the root of a tree, a spear at least two feet long protruding from the Hammer's broad back, blood pouring out.

When he saw all this, his gaze froze.

As the two of Doomhammer's personal guards removed the round breastplate, the black-robed orc saw that the spear pierced through the soft leather armor lining the black plate armor. The wound was already red, and the force that pierced the body of the Hammer of Doom also dented the other side of the breastplate.

As if sensing someone approaching, kneeling beside the Hammer of Destruction, his loyal subordinate Drektar raised his blind eyes and looked at the black-robed orc.

"You're here..."

As if he knew who was coming, Drektar didn't continue, but shook his head, got up and stepped back.

Torrents of blood rushed against the black-robed orc, and in a haze, he heard the mighty warrior whispering his name.

Shocked and hesitant, the black-robed orc knelt before the Hammer of Destruction.

"It was a despicable sneak attack. ”

Doomhammer's throat was hoarse, red blood pouring from his mouth, "I was knocked out from behind by that human coward. ”

"My lord—" The black-robed orc said something with a wave of his hand, but the Hammer of Doom interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

"I need your help. ”

The Hammer of Doom held out two fingers, an action that was once an easy move for him, but now seemed to use up all his strength.

"Two things, first, you must stick to what we have started, I led the tribe once, but it seems that fate will no longer favor me. ”

He shuddered, his face contorted into an expression of extreme pain, and then he continued, "You are now the Great Chief, son of Dulongtan. You will don my armor, wield the Hammer of Destruction, carry on my will, and continue to lead this lion to the top of Azeroth!!"

When he said this, the Hammer of Doom seemed to be back in its old days...

The roars of both sides, the sound of the iron hooves of the horses, and the majestic city that he had almost set foot on, but which had slid away like gravel from his hands.

The black-robed orc clung to the armoured, bleeding hand.

"Second thing. The Hammer of Doom roared with all its might.

His small surroundings were already crowded with people, and even if Hell Roar had ordered the rest of the orc warriors not to disturb the Great Chief's rest, there was no way to stop the orcs who were rushing towards him every moment.

"It's so humbling to die under the attack of a coward. ”

Hellroar grabbed the black-robed orc's hand and continued, "I don't want to die while my body still has these treacherous human things. ”

One of his hands fumbled with the spear, his fingers shaking weakly a few times before falling, "I tried to pull it out, but I don't have the strength anymore... Now, for me... Unplug it. ”

The black-robed orc felt his ribcage crushed by a large, invisible hand.

He nodded, forcing himself to be strong in the face of the great pain he had to meet the demands of his friends and teachers, closing his fingers and pressing into the muscles of the Hammer of Doom.

The Hammer of Doom cried out, his anger as strong as the pain he had suffered.

"Hurry up, pull it out!" he yelled.

I closed my eyes, and in the next second, a sharp pain hit me, and the blood-soaked rod grew a few inches outward.

The terrible roar of the Hammer of Doom almost shattered the hearts of everyone present.

"Come again!" roared the mighty warrior.

The black-robed orc took a deep breath and exerted his strength, hoping that he would pull it out whole. When he pulled back, the sudden loss of force caused him to fall backwards solidly.

Black-red blood poured out of the deadly hole in the Hammer of Doom's stomach.

The black-robed orc threw away the spear stained with the blood of the Great Chief in his hand and knelt beside the Hammer of Doom.

"Great Leader," the black-robed orc whispered, so that only the Hammer of Doom could hear him, "I'm afraid I'm not qualified to put on your armor and take your weapon. ”

"No one is born outstanding," Doomhammer's voice was faint and muffled, "and you'll lead them... Victory... will bring them... Tranquility..."

His eyes were closed.

Finally, the great chief who once led the Iron Orc tribe, the legendary hero who was cornered by the combined efforts of Xue Huan, Uther, and Tirio Ferdin, and still tried to save the tribe by himself, left with great honor.

What he didn't expect was that after his fall, the tribe would be led by a new leader to new glory...

And perhaps what he didn't expect was that the human allies who had joined forces to defeat him back then had already fallen apart from the inside and killed each other...

The hammer of destruction fell to the black-robed orc, who grabbed him, he held him up, and after a few moments, the black-robed orc felt a hand on his shoulder—it was Drektar, and his hand slid under the black-robed orc's arm to help him stand up.

"They're watching. ”

Drektar gestured to the orc warriors who had surrounded the inner and outer three, and Grum Hellroar was among them.

Then, Drektar whispered to the black-robed orcs, "They can't do without a leader, you must put on your armor and tell them you're the new chief." ”

"Sir,"

An orc who heard Drektar speak, "Armor ......"

He swallowed, "The armor is pierced, we need to replace it." ”

"No," the black-robed orc shook his head, "it won't be replaced." You'll have to fix its shape before the next fight, and I'll put it on. For the glory of Orgrim Doomhammer, for our freedom... And gave his life. ”

He stood there and asked the rest of the orcs to help him put on his blood-soaked armor.

The black-robed orc concealed the huge pain in his heart, ripped off the black cloak covering his body, and showed a brave face to everyone.

"I, son of Durotan of the Frostwolf Clan, Thrall!!"

The orcs around him watched him quietly and respectfully.

Drektar was right, he needed to do it.

He bent down, picked up the massive hammer, and swung it over his head.

"Orgrim Doomhammer has appointed me as the new chief," Sal shouted, "it's not what I aspire to, but I don't have a choice. I have been appointed, and I will obey the orders of the former Great Chief. Who of you would like to... Follow me and fight for our freedom?"

The surrounding orcs were silent for a second, only for a second, and the next moment, a sudden burst of mountains and tsunamis drowned Thrall in it!!

A roar of anger, full of grief for their fallen leader, but also a voice of hope.

Thrall stood there, holding aloft the Hammer of Doom—the legendary weapon with hope in his eyes—knowing that no matter how slim the hope of success was, victory would be theirs.

The ruins, and the war-torn people of his people, are destined for new hope...

(End of chapter)