The land of Draenor is rotting, and there are no normal plants to grow.

There was a muddy wind blowing in the sky, which was suffocating.

Without plants, you can't feed herbivores, and neither can carnivores that are naturally at the top of the food chain.

The stars in the sky were crumbling, the sun was dim in the dense clouds of dust, and everything seemed lifeless.

The wind on the earth suddenly stopped, and the melodious and deep sound of trumpets echoed in the air.

The wind subsided, and the dust that had been flying with the wind also rose and settled. You can see that on the ground, huge figures are moving towards the same goal.

There are huge wolves of various coat colors, but more often there are huge humanoid figures with green skin. They are generally over 2 meters tall, and their bodies are full of explosive bulging muscles, and even the slightly slender females among them have the burly body of a human warrior.

Carrying a variety of weapons, they gathered proudly towards the place where the trumpet sounded.

The heavy soles of their feet trampled on the earth, and even the solid ground made a slight cracking sound of "pop pop!" as they trampled it.

The earth was cracking inch by inch, and there was no trace of nourishment in the dirt, stepping on it, and every step was like the sound of death approaching.

A huge bolt of lightning split the sky, leaving a visual rift on the retinas of these burly warriors. A giant with a reddish complexion looked up in amazement. He saw a cloudy layer of mud in the gloomy sky slowly flowing towards his target.

"This ...... It's ......"

"Durontan, don't look at it, it must be Gul'dan's spell. ”

Durotan opened his eyes, and in his pure blue eyes, an almost straight tornado was reflected, and it seemed that the energy of the entire Draenor world was converging there.

As the chief of the orc frostwolf clan, young Durotan had an incomparably strong body, and on that mountain-like strong body, it was full of the most typical orc-style ornaments.

The two large braids were well combed and hung down to the chest. On the two arms, which are thicker than the legs of a cow, each is tied with a circle of large and small animal tooth decorations. Around the waist was a white animal skin belt thick enough to cover the entire belly.

Carrying a huge axe the size of half a door in a human house, Durotan walked beside him his beloved white wolf, a behemoth the size of a buffalo and weighing at least 400 kilograms.

Durotan squirmed, and the two protruding fangs in his jaw made a crisp metallic sound as they pierced the decorative rings.

"Orgrim, I've always felt that the destruction of the world had something to do with that Gul'dan guy. ”

Durontan's friend, Orgrim *Doom, who will become the Grand Chief of the entire orc tribe in the near future, tilted his head: "I don't think an orc can destroy a world. ”

Orgrim's size is not as burly as Durontan's, and he is half a size smaller just by looking at his size. But if any orc neglects the square-headed hammer in his hand, which is larger than the torso of most orcs, it will definitely pay a heavy price.

Orgrim was also clad in orcish ornaments, and the tusks hanging from his body were both a decoration and a symbol of his bravery. Only the orc warriors who kill the ferocious monsters independently can break off the fangs of the monsters and hang them on themselves.

In this regard, Orgrim is no less than Durontan.

Both of them are well-known warriors among the orcs!

As he got closer to his destination, Durotan saw more and more orcs.

These elite warriors from all clans of the tribe either beat their chests or let out earth-shattering howls, showing their bravery in various ways, and the slightly exaggerated nature scuffled with the unpleasant ones. The whole gathering place is like a huge gladiatorial arena.

"Ah, the Warsong Clan, the Blackstone Clan, the Shadowmoon Clan, the Shattered Palm Clan...... Almost all the big clans came. ”

Ogrim: "Of course, the world is dying, and we don't want to end up with the world, so we have to respond to the call of the Black Hand Great Chief and Gul'dan." ”

While the two were talking, many orcs saw Durotan.

The pupils of many orcs suddenly shrank, and the crowd full of battle spirit stirred. The gathered orc warriors parted like a splash of water, or like a retreating tide. The orc warriors made way for the two warriors, clad in fangs.

At this moment, a taller and burly figure appeared on a rough wooden platform not far away. It was a gigantic orc wrapped in heavy iron armor, a huge warhammer full of dry blood sacrifices that showed his prowess.

An iron-blooded face seemed to tell the other orcs that he also had a heart of steel.

The momentum of his appearance was like a huge battle axe, slitting through the unruly crowd of orcs, and those who took a few steps back would be overwhelmed by the bloody killing aura, and the chest that had been retracted by the exhalation barely had the courage to bounce again.

"Oh, from the Frostwolf Clan, go find a place to the south yourself. "The Frost Wolf Chief who can overwhelm the heroic Frostwolf Chief in momentum is the only one in the tribe at this moment, and there is only the Black Hand of the Great Chieftain nicknamed 'The Destroyer'.

For the Great Chief, Durotan and Orgrim both right-fisted themselves in the left chest as a sign of respect. But the black hand looked at Durotan more than once, and left.

After settling down the Frostwolf Clan a little, an hour passed, and in front of the huge stone gate hundreds of meters high in the gathering place, the horn of the assembly sounded.

"Woo-woo-woo-" The long trumpet, as if from a long, long time ago, as if announcing the demise of this world called 'Draenor' by the Draenei, as if sounding the clarion call for a new war!

Most of the orcs didn't think much about it, they only knew that it was Gul'dan who was gathering the orcs in the name of the Great Chief of the Black Hand.

The tide of orcs, predominantly green, poured into the vast open space in front of the huge door. The burly figure easily squeezed the clearing into the water.

The orcs with weak bodies can't even get close to the gate at all, and the existence of lack of strength and physical strength will naturally be rejected to the outermost circle.

On the huge stone steps in front of the door, which were dozens of meters above the ground, a hunchbacked orc in a black robe, holding a skull staff, slowly stepped into the sight of tens of thousands of orcs. There were even several large bone spurs emerging from his back, and several withered skulls stuck in them.

He wasn't huge, but no orc would ignore his presence.

He is the one who has surpassed his mentor, Naozu, and now the orcs are essentially in power - Gul'dan!