Sleeping soundly is not easy for Durotan. From time to time tossing and sighing from Draka he knew she couldn't sleep either. Finally he gave up trying to sleep, lay down, and thought about the events of the day. Accepting this blatant pleasure in torturing other creatures made him feel sick, and he cried out inwardly for the mistake of doing so. But what else can be done? The elemental spirits have abandoned the shamans, even if they are only following the guidance of the ancestral spirits. Without magic as a secondary weapon, orcs would be destroyed by the Draenei, who possessed great skill and knowledge.

He got up and left the tent where he was sleeping, lit a fire to ward off the cold of dawn, and quietly ate the cold raw meat. After breakfast, as the day began to rise, he saw a messenger coming towards him. The messenger didn't stop, tossed Durotan a scroll and rode off on his mount. Durotan opened the scroll, then stopped at the catalog, and he closed his eyes.

Two days later there will be a meeting at which the chiefs of all clans will elect a leader who will represent the will of all of them, and he will decide what is important. This leader is known as the "Great Chief"

A soft hand ran through his hair, and he turned to see Drakka looking at the scroll from behind him.

"You'd better stay at home," she murmured, "and the outcome is already set anyway." ”

He smiled wryly at her, "Honey, you weren't so suspicious before. ”

"It wasn't like it was now. That's all she said. He knew in his heart that she was right. Only one of the orcs is well-known enough and charismatic enough to win enough support in the election of a chieftain. Grom Hellroar may be a bit of a threat to Blackhan, but Hellroar is too impulsive.

For this purpose, Blackhan was conspicuous from the start, initially opposing Neozu and later supporting him, and his shaman was one of the first warlocks, and he won more battles against the Draenei than anyone else.

Draqqa is usually right. This time was no exception. Two days later, Durotan watched numbly as the clan's chiefs were elected, and Blackhan of the Blackstone clan was finally elected. When Gul'dan announced Blackhan's name. Blackhan felt the spotlight around him, and the burly orc stood up and accepted the title without humility. Durotan didn't even have to object. Doesn't make much sense. He had followed the entire election so carefully that he couldn't even say anything that might change anything.

That's when he looked at Orgrim. In the eyes of all, this lieutenant of the Blackstone clan looked very firmly supportive of his leadership. But Durotan knew Orgrim better than anyone else, and he could see that his friend was frowning slightly, his lips pursed tightly, as if Orgrim was a little unhappy with the election results just like Durontan. But he also has no position against it. Durotan hoped that Orgrim's position so close to Blackham would mitigate the damage that Blackham would inevitably cause a little.

Blackham now stands in the front row, smiling and waving to the cheering crowd. Durotan could not object. Likewise he couldn't cheer for this orc who represented all that he despised.

Orgrim stood behind Blackhan's right, while Gul'dan stood behind and looked at Blackham with respect. Durotan was sure that Gul'dan was manipulating the qiē, though he didn't know how.

"Orc brothers and sisters!" Blackhan exclaimed, "You have given me glory and respect, and I will never fail the countless noble warriors here." We are strengthening our weapons and armor day by day. Now, we have given up the capricious elements and have real power—the power that is in the hands of our warlocks and wields, without bowing to anyone or anything. This is power! We have a clear goal, we will wipe out the Draenei from our land, they will not be able to resist the frenzy of warriors and warlocks. This sweeps away a tribe, and we will be their worst nightmare! ...

He raised his hands and shouted, "For the Horde!"

Thousands of passionate voices are shouting. "For the tribe!For the tribe!For the tribe!"

Durotan and Drakar went home soon after the elections were over, and they were disgusted to stay there. Shamans stay to study and train. When they returned to the clan a few days later, Durotan found them back to their former pride. These new spells had given them back their confidence—the confidence that had dissipated like a morning mist when the elementals had abandoned them. Durotan was happy about this, he loved his clan and knew that they were all kind, and he didn't want to see them discouraged.

They first practiced their skills on wild beasts and joined hunting teams. Send their strange summons to the Splithoof and Tabu sheep. Durotan still couldn't stand the great suffering of the beasts. As time went on, the beasts suffered less—not because there was less pain. It's warlocks who learn to kill faster and more effectively. Strange creatures that were strictly under their control, and which some warlocks fondly called "helpers" or "pets". It also looks very different.

Blackham seems pleased with his new status. Messengers with increasingly ornate clothing and wolf rides sent scrolls to Durotan almost every day. Durotan had to admit that it was useful to know what other clans were doing.

Until one day, an orc who is not a messenger enters the camp. Durotan recognized the orc in the costume and the elaborate black cloak rode towards him on a wolf, it was one of Blackhan's warlocks, Krkul. He grabbed the wolf rider, came down, and bowed before Durotan.

"Patriarch, the Great Chief has something for me to tell you," he said kindly. Durotan nodded and motioned for the warlock to follow him. When he was sure no one else had heard, "What is it that Blackham has asked one of his most important warlocks to sue me?" He asked.

Kekul smiled, baring his fangs. "I'm giving a message to all the clans," he said, apparently telling Durotan to put himself in his place, and the Frostwolf patriarch was not particularly respected. Durotan grunted and clasped his hands, waiting.

"The most crucial factor in our final glorious victory over Delaney was numbers," Kekul continued. "They are fewer and we are more, but we need more. ”

"And what does Blackhan want?" Durotan said, "We don't practice fighting anymore, let's mate?"

Quekul didn't blink, "It's not that you don't practice fighting, but... Yes... Encourage childbearing. Your clan will be rewarded for every additional child born, which will be useful. But unfortunately, we need more combat power right away, and not six years later. ”

Durotan stared at the warlock in shock. He was just trying to tell a vulgar joke. What exactly does Blackham want?

"The kids start training at the age of six," Krkul continued, "and they're strong enough to fight at twelve." Gather your children. ”

"I don't understand," said Durotan, "what do you tell them to do?"

Krkul sighed, as if Durotan was a foolish child, "I have the power to speed up their development," he said, "we will... Forcing them to take this step. If we can gather all the children between the ages of six and twelve now, and let them grow up to twelve, we will increase the number of warriors in the clan by almost half!"

Durotan couldn't believe what he heard, "Never!"

"I'm afraid I can't help you, this is an order. Any clan that refuses will be considered a traitor to the Horde. The entire clan will be exiled, and the chieftain and his spouse will be... Execute.

Durontan was dumbfounded, and Krkul handed him a scroll, which he opened and trembled with anger when he saw that what the warlock said was true. He and Draka will be put to death, and the Frostwolf Clan will be exiled.

"You're going to rob them of their childhood," he said coldly.

"For their future, yes. I'll suck a little bit of their life force... It's only six years. It's not good for them, the children of Blackstone don't. Blackham insisted that his own three children should be honored first. And now that they can fight for the honor of the Horde, they are also a key force. ”

Durotan wasn't at all surprised that Blackham was doing this to his own child. For the first time, he was happy that there weren't many children in the clan. There are only five children between the ages of six and twelve. He read the letter again, disgusted and angry, children are just children. The warlock waited calmly, and finally Durotan tried his best to hide his grief and said, "Do what you have to do." ”

"For the Horde!" Kekul said.

Durotan did not answer.

What happened next was brutal and cruel. (To be continued)