Woking was completely speechless.

Everyone, because of their growth environment, growth experience, ethnic status and other factors, will have their own vision limitations.

Woking is very smart, otherwise he wouldn't have been Sal's main brainstorm.

He also has his limitations. At the end of the day, he was nothing more than the chief of a troll clan that stood out from the crowd of primitive troll clans.

Trolls have had a hard time in the past 25,000 years, from being the largest race in the world in the distant past, to having two empires that spanned the entire continent of Ancient Kalimdor, to small clans in a remote corner.

Of course, he could not take the other troll clans seriously, and what really made him wary was what the Alliance had done - the Alliance was not a peaceful organization, but they had completely destroyed Zuaman in the Ghost Lands in the southeast of the Eternal Song Forest, and Zur Grab in the eastern part of the Valley of Thorns.

This corresponds to two of the most glorious empires in the history of trolls, the Amani Empire and the Gulabash Empire.

Not only that, but the Rotten Moss Clan located in the Eastern Plague Land was also slaughtered by the Alliance.

Although the alliance had absolutely legitimate reasons when it started, because these clans were all making trouble behind the alliance when the world encountered a major crisis, this could not hide the alliance's decisiveness and ruthlessness.

Once again, it is proved that as long as the line of justice in the heart of the alliance is crossed, the alliance will be ruthlessly destroyed.

Times have changed, if in the old era of cold weapons, trolls could still fight magic with crowd tactics. Now, whether it is the alliance's terrifying flying fleet and other hot weapons, or the highly developed magic net magic civilization, it is not something that mortal beings can fight against with their physical bodies alone.

As soon as Sal reminded him, Woking immediately realized that the tribe, as well as the several races that had joined the tribe, were in a very dangerous situation.

Woking was deflated: "What's the matter?"

Thrall smiled bitterly, "The Alliance and the guardian dragon of the Temple of Dragon's Sleep have made a plan to deal with the World Destroyer Nesario, and I need to be a candidate. You know? Old friend, now the tribe ...... Or orcs and other races need a righteous name. Only by obtaining this title, no matter how bad the tribe is in the future, it will not be defined as an evil race by orcs and other races. ”

This is to fight for a gold medal for avoiding death.

Woking frowned, "What about the tribe?

When Woking asked the question, there was a split second when Sal almost burst out and wanted to say, 'I'll be back'. But the opposition of the Nagrand orcs came from the troubles of their countrymen...... All kinds of bitterness of the past came to Sal's heart.

Thinking of having made outstanding contributions to the tribe for more than ten years, but being forced by the clansmen, Sal suddenly felt a little lonely. And the noble and great cause of 'wanting to do something for the world of Azeroth' attracted Thrall even more.

Sal finally replied, "I'll think about it seriously." But it must be after the crisis of the world's demise. ”

It's not the answer Woking wants to hear the most, it's better than none at all.

Woking turned to leave, and before leaving, he waved his hand, "Well, until that day comes, the Darkspear Trolls will be patient." ”

The noble leader of the trolls, his back seemed to be a little hunched again.

Thrall let out a long sigh, this time he wanted to persuade Wojin to lead the Darkspear Trolls to focus on the overall situation and return to the tribe for the time being. It's a pity that neither he nor Woking can convince the other party.

His eyes were full of destruction and desolation, and Thrall felt a pang of gloom.

Leaving the Echo Islands and coming to the land he named Durotar, Thrall finally took out a small crystal from his pocket that shimmered with arcane brilliance and pinched it: "Duke, I'm all right. ”

A second later, a blue-bordered portal opened, and Thrall stepped inside without hesitation.

The momentary discomfort of teleportation quickly passed, and Thrall looked around. The huge temple is not empty, but everything is huge.

Covered in volcanic lava and black stones, on top of which are Titan-style metal artifacts and decorations.

Because this is the Obsidian Dragon Sanctuary in the northwest of the Dragonbone Wilderness, that is, the lair of the Black Dragon Clan. 10,000 years ago, it was the place where the black dragon hatched its young dragons. Unfortunately, with the betrayal of the Black Dragons led by Nesario, there are now only a hundred or so half-dragons and dragonmen guarding the place under the orders of Onexia.

The square was large, empty in the middle, and a large round table was placed in the middle of the square. A man and a woman were chatting in the middle of the square, drinking lunch.

Thrall saw a cup of black tea on the table that radiated warmth, and a plate of small biscuits.

Duke and the humanoid Black Dragon Princess, dressed in a robe, and a long embroidered dress with a dark red background were sitting upright on a chair at the table.

Duke nodded and smiled at Sal's arrival, "Sal, do you want something to drink?"

Only then did Sal notice that there was a large tea set on the table, completely specially made in the size of an orc.

Sal nodded, unobtrusive, and sat down peacefully.

The experience of living for a long time in human time gave Thrall more indifference, he had not experienced the life of a Lordaeron nobleman. But because of his quietness and 'tameness', he was brought into the balls or tea parties of the nobility more than once as a champion slave gladiator.

Although the afternoon tea does not seem to match the rugged Sal, there is a subtle sense of harmony here.

"Oh?" said Onexia, tilting her head in surprise.

Taking a sip of black tea, Sal put down his cup and turned it deftly with his fingertips. He knew very well that the initiative of the conversation was not on his side, so he also took the initiative to speak.

"Duke, what do you think of the current tribe?" have known each other for more than ten years, and have fought side by side many times. It's not about brotherhood, at least it's an old friend who knows each other very well. Thrall knows how to deal with humans.

Duke knew that lies meant nothing to a wise leader like Thrall, and he told the truth: "Dangerous, arrogant, arrogant." Garrosh leads a tribe like a powder keg that explodes at the slightest opportunity. ”

"Powder keg...... What a figurative metaphor? Sal smiled wryly.

The powder keg, once it explodes, will definitely die. The problem is that it will also blow up people nearby. This is a typical example of harming others and oneself.

Duke raised his hand and pursed his lips, as if he didn't care: "Fortunately, it can't blow up the deck of the Alliance warship." ”

Thrall now knew better about the Alliance's attitude—disgusted, wary, but fearless. Once you have your hands free, you can pick up the current tribe at any time.

Thrall sighed, "Then Duke, do you hate orcs?"