A narrow, steep path leads to a vast barren plateau on the otherwise lush mountain, which Durotan seems to be as unnatural as a knife slicing through the summit.

In the center, polished black stones are neatly arranged in a circular pool, and the green viscous liquid emits an ominous shimmer, from which a faint smoke rises, and the smell of sulfur and fire gradually permeates the entire space.

Under Durontan's complicated gaze, an orc stood at the front of the crowd. It was not the spiritual leader Naozu, nor the great chief of the tribe, the Black Hand, but the deformed child who was once ridiculed by countless people, Guldan.

It's just that I don't know why, but the negative comments against him have faded away lately.

"Not so long ago. "We were still loose clans, we only met twice a year, and we only sang and danced, beat drums and hunted. ”

There was contempt in his voice, which disgusted Durotan. For hundreds of years, the various clans have come together on Koshhag to discuss development and share the harvest, and it is not a stupid thing to do. On the contrary, it was a sacred and powerful symbol that not only avoided the orc's civil war for a long time, but also allowed him to partner with Orgrim.

However, the reaction of the orcs around him made him vaguely feel as if it was from a previous life. They roared and waved their weapons to express the same emotions as Gul'dan, even the former shamans.

"Look at the present, we are standing side by side, clan by clan, all under the wise leadership of the big chief's black hand, united as one, regardless of each other!" Glancing at the big chief with a satisfied face, Gul'dan smiled quietly and took the lead in bowing to him, "Salute to the big chief!"

There was a cheer, but Durotan was not involved.

"With the help of the Great Chief, and our sacred allies, we have become stronger. Over the years, our skills and technology have evolved faster than in hundreds of years. ”

"The threat looming over us has been broken, and now, with a final blow, it can be destroyed forever, and we will destroy Shattrath with our own hands!"

There was another howl to the sky, and the fierce emotions of the orcs set off a fiery battle intent, and everyone was eager to wave their fists and weapons.

"But first...... Gul'dan stretched out his hand to suppress it, forcing everyone to temporarily suppress their feelings, "First of all, I need you to entrust everything you have to prove your honor in exchange for a powerful blessing!"

He bent down and picked up a strange goblet from the side of the pool, which looked like the horns of some animal carved out. However, in Durontan's memory, he had never seen a split-hoof ox with such large horns.

Several intricate and distorted symbols were engraved on the cup, and under this dim canopy, a faint light shone brightly. Moreover, the cup was filled with the same green liquid as the pool, because it was too full, and the viscous liquid overflowed in a large area, slowly slid over Guldan's fingers, and splashed on the ground.

Seeing the land corroded by the liquid, there was a slight snorting sound, and in the blink of an eye, it turned black. Not only Durotan, but even the other orcs had a look of surprise on their faces.

"This cup is unity. Guldan's voice became more and more agitated, full of absurd piety, "This cup is rebirth!"

"Drink it, and you will receive blessings and strength to help you overcome your fears, and your enemies!"

"Now, who, then, wants to be the first warrior?"

As he spoke, Gul'dan turned to the right and looked at the long-awaited black hand. The Great Chief grinned and was about to speak, when a savage voice rang through the sky.

The chieftain of the Warsong clan squeezed forward from the crowd and stood in front of Gul'dan. The Black Hand looked a little embarrassed, and it was clear that in order to establish his prestige, Gul'dan and he had already planned to make the Great Chief the first to eat the crab.

Of course, it doesn't matter who is the first for the warlock. Because as long as there is the first, with the pride and refusal of the orcs, there will definitely be a second, a third......

He smiled and handed out the cup: "You seized this opportunity, dear Grom. ”

As soon as he took it, Hellroar frowned at the unpleasant smell.

"Yes, that's it, accept the blessings, gain great power, and I can guarantee that you will be able to wash away that defeat easily. Gul'dan couldn't wait to urge.

However, Grom stopped, his sharp gaze pressed against the other man's throat like a sword: "I didn't fail, Gul'dan. ”

"The rule of Mak'gora is to die till death, and as long as one of us is alive, this battle will never end!" Hellroar laughed excitedly at the scar on his chest, and if anyone else said that, he would have thought it was an excuse, but he was the only one who had to be convinced by his soaring fighting spirit.

"Hell roars, invincible!"

With this loud laughter, Hell Roar raised his head and drank it down.

Syllable!

The cup stained with the green liquid fell to the ground, and Grom suddenly bent down, trembling violently, his thick breath pressing down on his throat, and bulging green tendons crawling all over his neck and body like earthworms.

The crowd whispered, full of worry. Durotan watched in horror as Grom's body twitched and twitched, and right before his eyes, Grom's not too strong shoulders widened, and his armor creaked with the strength of his body.

Slowly, he stood up straight, taller than ever, his strong, powerful body shaped by the green liquid slowly turned, and he glanced at the crowd.

Durotan saw a patch of green, not the reflection of the liquid in the pool, and he could be sure that the skin was still brown from the roar of hell just now, but now, it had completely changed.

“Lok’tar ogar！”

Grom let out a deafening roar that was more brutal than Durotan had ever heard before. He had to cover his ears, just like everyone else did.

"How are you feeling, dear Hellroar?" Gul'dan stepped forward, his words filled with magic, and as he spoke softly, Grom's eyes glowed with a scarlet, brutal light.

"I feel...... Very well, I feel ......" he paused and roared continuously, as if a wild beast from the desolation was thirsting for hunt and blood, "I'm going to tear the draenei's flesh apart! Let their blood spill on my face! Give me their blood!"

His ribcage rose and fell violently, and his huge fists opened and closed. He looked like he was ready to attack with his bare hands, and what was even more exaggerated was that Durotan inexplicably thought that he would win.

"Clans of Warsong, come on, none of you will refuse this ecstasy, haha!"

The warriors of the Warsong Clan swarmed forward, eager to feel what their chieftain felt.

The cups were passed in the hands of the orcs of the Warsong Clan, and they drank one after another, and after shaking in pain, they became visibly excited and powerful. Looking at all this, the black hand's brow furrowed even tighter.

When the last Warsong orc finished drinking, he immediately stepped forward: "I'm coming!"

Picking up the cup, the Black Hand was in no hurry to drink like Grom, he was the leader of the tribe, the Great Chief, not an impulsive brute.

Turning, the black hand looked at his clan and caught his two eager sons, Red and Maim, and he smiled. His two sons brought him a lot of honors, but that wasn't enough.

He looked aside, "Come, friend, Orgrim, come and enjoy this honor with me!"

The best friend was called to accept the force, and Durotan immediately opened his mouth, but he still didn't say anything.

Thankfully, Orgrim lowered his head: "No, I'm just your lieutenant, and this is an honor that belongs to you, an honor that belongs to the Great Chief. ”

Durotan breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his head in despair. Orgrim saw what he saw, though he didn't receive the message like Durontan. But he is not a fool, he has a soul of his own, and he does not succumb to the power that afflicts the body, and fills the eyes with ferocity and madness.

The black hand smiled, he didn't have to have the other party drink with him, he just wanted to use the other party's hand to emphasize his status as the big chief, he knew that his lieutenant would not let him down.

Hmph, boring self-satisfaction.

Looking at all this, Guldan's face flashed with disdain for a moment, and then he turned his gaze to the Frostwolf Clan. Unlike the other clan chiefs who couldn't hold back, Durotan was terrifyingly calm.

"Chief, don't you want a blessing?" Drektar leaned over and whispered in a low voice.

Durotan shook his head, "No, I won't let anyone in our clan drink either." ”

The Blind Prophet was stunned, and his face showed a little eagerness: "But, Durontan, it is clear that this thing brings great power and passion! you are stupid not to drink it......"

Recalling the contents of the letter, Durotan closed his eyes: "I drank it to be stupid." ”

While handing the cups to the others, Gul'dan looked at Durotan with a puzzled look. Why didn't this guy come forward? What did he find? What did he know?

Doubts made Gul'dan very uneasy, and he repeatedly wanted to explore the other party's secrets, but not today.

Standing back in his place, Gul'dan shouted to the crowd: "Those who want the blessings of the great Lord Kil'gardan have already received them. This is a sacred land where the orcs have taken an important step and become stronger than ever. ”

"Think of this great mountain as the throne of Kilgardan, who is here to bless us and watch us fulfill our mission!"

Roar!

The orcs who drank that cup were indeed insane, they waved their thick and powerful arms, squeezed out all their strength and roared, and the scarlet in their eyes was full of madness and tyranny.

And, with their deafening roar, the earth trembled.