"Hell roars. ”

...... Endless......

"Hellroar Chieftain?"

...... That's enough......

Gromash opened his eyes. There was no one in his tent, as usual, but his hand was still stretched to the other side of the bedding made of animal skin, as if to hold someone who would never be seen again. Every day.

The voices outside the tent rang out again. "Hellroar Chieftain?"

He sat up with a muffled grunt, making out the sound outside the door. "Come in. He replied.

A Warsong armorer walked in. "Chief, Sentinel Rigro has humiliated me. I'm going to duel him in the gladiatorial arena to prove myself. ”

Gromash rubbed his eyes. "You two fought last night. He said.

"The opponents are all other people. He questioned my honor, and I had to prove him wrong. He must not be allowed to ...... again."

The man gushed.

Grommash patted himself on the forehead, eventually interrupting him. "That's fine. I give you permission to duel. Wait until sunset—" He glanced toward the tent entrance. Night had fallen, and he had been asleep all day. "Go ahead and prepare now. I won't be allowed to start until I'm here. ”

"Yes, Hellroar Chief. The armorer then left.

That's the problem with peace, Gromash smiled helplessly. Many of his people were not born into the Warsong Clan. They came to the Hellroar banner in search of battle and glory, and now they've got it. As a result of Gul'dan's warning, after their enemies were defeated, the hostile orc clans did not dare to challenge other opponents lightly, and instead watched out for threats from the outside world. So this time is too much for some people.

Duels are never meant to settle pathetic disputes. Gromash let out a long sigh, then stood up and put on his gloves.

"A bunch of idiots. He whispered, but immediately regretted it again. They are not stupid. He was well aware of the restless restlessness that lurked beneath this seeming peace, and that the past would slowly invade his idle brain. If left unchecked, past doubts can shake a warrior's heart. Doubt is a sign of weakness, Gromash reminded himself. There is no room for weakness in the Warsong Clan, and this of course includes the chiefs of the clan. It was a pointless battle that cleared his mind.

...... Die honorably like a warrior......

Bloodroar, the Hellroar family's razor-sharp axe, has been leaning against his bedside. It's been a long time since this weapon has drunk the blood of an enemy, and it probably won't be the same tonight. Hellroar picked up his weapon anyway and walked straight to the camp's gladiatorial arena. A crowd of spectators had already gathered there - but not all the members of the clan. There are a small group of people who have not yet returned from this season's hunt, while others have no interest in the duel. Still, the people around surrounded the whole field, and Gromash didn't really see inside until he sat down in the chief's seat. The armorers and wolf tamers are already in the arena, ready to fight. They saluted Gromash.

The audience fell silent. "There's always a lot to say before a duel, but it's not the first time you've been here. Hell Roar raised his voice as he spoke. "Only orcs with an iron will can become a member of the Warsong Clan—"

...... Don't you think it's too late to say that?......

The roar of hell began to come close to a roar. "But you've proven your worth before. Then let's see what you're capable of, and begin!"

The two orcs pounced on the other side, and there was an instant scuffle.

The audience erupted, weapons rattling in their hands.

Gromash sat with his arms folded over his chest, placing his axe on his knees. A few minutes later, the wolf tamer punched the armorer in the temple, and the battle ended. The victor strides through the arena and is immersed in the enthusiastic cheers of his clansmen. The loser fell to the ground, unconscious.

Regardless, this is not an uncommon occurrence. "It was a glorious duel. No one surrendered, and glory belonged both to the wolf trainer and to the armorer who fought until the last moment. Gromash said. "Drink with an open stomach tonight. Both of you have proven that you have a heart for a war song. "Eighth in two weeks, if I'm not mistaken.

The two orcs lifted the armorer out of the arena and lightly slapped him in the face a few times until he came to his senses. Thankfully, this time the joint was not broken.

The audience was boiling again, hoping to see another duel. The same is true of Gromarsh. A battle was far from the memories that lingered in his mind.

Gromash raised a fist, and everyone looked at him. "Who else?" he asked. "Who else is going to prove to me tonight that they have a heart for a war song?"

Several orcs in the crowd raised their fists, eager to get Gromarsh's attention. An orc strode out of the crowd and jumped into the arena. "I'm coming!" he shouted.

Garrosh smiled. Since the response is so enthusiastic, then he will continue to act. The chief couldn't remember the orc's name at once, and the torches near the arena didn't illuminate his body. Gromash squinted and carefully took a look. To his surprise, the man had a very similar physique to him, but he couldn't call his name.

The audience began to whisper.

"Who is this man?"

Nobody knows. The atmosphere of unease became even more solemn.

Something is not right. Gromash leaned forward to look at the stranger. A lot of things are wrong. The strange orc's hands were shackled, and the clothes he wore were never seen in Gromash. Whether it's the fabric or the cut. The shadow on his chin was not a short beard, but a tattoo pattern, a tattoo of a chieftain. The delicacy of the depiction is incredible.

The crowd began to get restless, and soon there was silence in the Warsong camp, with those with weapons firmly in their hands. The orc stood alone in the arena, a smile on his face, immersed in the chaos.

Gromash reached for the handle of the Bloodroar. He had already learned to listen to his instincts, and now his instincts told him that the orc was a foreigner, a man who did not belong here, a threat. Was it an Assassin? If so, he was either extremely brave or stupid enough to come alone into the arena with his hands cuffed.

Gromash had a hunch that the conflict would soon erupt. His roar of blood hadn't tasted blood in a long time.

But his instincts tickled at his curiosity. Why does he look so familiar?" "You think you have the heart of a war song?" Gromash began.

"I have. The orc's voice was so strong that it could be heard by everyone, including Grommash.

"Put your name on it. ”

The orc lifted his head. "I came as a stranger. ”

Gromash watched him carefully. "Stranger, don't you have your own clan, what about your ancestors, don't you have the title of meritorious service from the battlefield?" his words were mixed with a hint of contempt, and a burst of laughter came from the crowd.

"Stories, like the wind, pass by in a flash. The stranger replied. "Only action can prove the heart. ”

"But at least one or two stories answer certain questions. Gromash gestured to the stranger's handcuffs. "Which clan did you provoke, and when did you flee?Is there a group of pursuers behind you, ready to attack my camp?" he turned his gaze to the crowd, not hiding the anger on his face. "How did this man get into my camp, who was in charge of standing guard tonight, and came here to watch the duel? Stand up for me!" his roar echoed throughout the camp. The laughter in the crowd died down.

The four orcs slowly walked out, and the sound of walking was particularly harsh in the dead silence. Their faces were full of worry, but they still held their heads high and gave their names. Gromash left them to stand there, waiting for his fate. Beads of sweat kept streaming down their foreheads.

"If your head is like that of an ogre, it won't help you even if you have a heart for a war song. "His voice is very smooth. "You brought this man into our midst. To be fair, you should go through this test as this stranger. Do you agree?"

The men whispered, "Yes, Hellroar Chief." ”

"Then join him. Gromash replied. Several people hesitated, but did not protest and jumped into the gladiatorial arena. The stranger took a few steps back, leaving them some space. A few errant orcs looked at him viciously, and the stranger's eyes didn't blink.

"Strangers. You claim to have no clan?" gromash asked.

"As I said, I have a heart for a war song. But I don't belong to any clan. He replied.

Grommash scratched his chin. "Can you explain your tattoos? You don't belong to any clan, so you're your own chief?"

Laughter erupted from the crowd again. Strangers don't have a sense of humor about this. "This mark is from another era. It's a scar and doesn't have any special meaning. ”

"My Warsong clan never goes around in circles and pretends to be crazy and stupid when answering my questions. And your tricks on both are also clumsy, stranger. Gromash replied. "Honestly, why the hell are you here?"

The stranger smiled. "You're the second person to give me that comment today. He lowered his head and pondered for a moment. By the time he looked up, the smile was gone. In its place is 100% faith. "Grommash, hell roars, and I've climbed mountains and waded through rivers and sacrificed so much to stand here. I have come to save you and all the orcs from a fateful tragedy. ”

"What kind of tragedy?"

"Slavery. Lose our souls, and a qiē something that makes us proud. The stranger said categorically.

Everyone looked at Gromash and wondered what their chief thought of it. They didn't wait long.

Gromash laughed, and the entire Warsong Clan joined in, including a few in the Colosseum. Only the stranger was silent. I thought he was a threat. Grommash thought with some regret. When the teasing was over, Gromash stood up and let go of the roar of blood in his hand.

"Some will put you to death because of your words, stranger. But killing a madman has no honor on me. He said to the orcs who had been punished in the arena, "Take this to the blacksmith's tent." Knock off his handcuffs, reward him with a meal and a portion of water, and send the man out of here. That's the end of it. The four orcs were relieved. "Maybe you shouldn't be blamed entirely. If you see him, you may kill him, but the gods will always protect the foolish. Send him away and don't forget the lesson of jì. No further business trips are allowed. ”

Four orcs in the arena began to approach the stranger. "You think I'm lying?" he said, stepping back.

"Nope. Gromash said slowly. "I think your brain hurts. Warsong never bends the knee. For us, slavery is one of those fates that will never happen. Even if we are defeated, even if we are captured, we will fight to the death. ”

One of the guards inside the Colosseum grabbed the stranger's arm. The bound orc kicked his legs, folded his hands, and swung hard. His fist slammed into the guard's jaw, knocking him back. The other three rushed forward.

"Stop!" Gromash growled. The guards stopped. "Stranger, don't test my patience. When the time comes, don't blame the Warsong Clan for showing no mercy. ”

The stranger refused to give up. "Warsong's path to enslavement is not due to battle or defeat. Your fate is chosen by your own willingness. He raised his voice as he spoke. "And the one who will give himself to your new master will be you, Gromash Hellroar. Others will follow suit, and the end result will be a tragedy. ”

There was silence for a moment, and all that could be heard around the arena was the sound of the breeze blowing through the war song tents and torches.

The remaining mercy of Grommash had vanished. "Your fables are ridiculous, and you have tarnished my honor. His eyes widened. "As you said, stories, like the wind, pass by in a flash. Only action can prove the heart. Have you ever heard of Warsong's duel, stranger? it was a test for Warsong Clan to prove their worth. A person who enters the gladiatorial arena can only stop fighting when his body can no longer support himself. There is no surrender, no mercy, only strong willpower can survive. Those who give up will be expelled from the clan. That's how you prove you have a heart for a war song. My clan will never allow the weak to appear again. ”

"Yet?" the stranger asked.

...... Die honorably like a warrior......

Gromash ruthlessly erased the memories that surfaced. "If you're telling the truth, prove your honor in a duel. ”

The stranger looked at his bound hands and replied, "I accept the duel." ”

"Good. Warsong's duel is not a death match, but accidents do happen. Gromash said. "You guys have not only brought me to shame, but also the entire Warsong Clan. Perhaps the four of you can defend our honor in the Colosseum. ”

"We accept the duel!" replied the men without hesitation. The stranger's eyes widened.

"The duel begins!" Gromash announced, taking his seat again. (To be continued.) )