Blake still has one last month to prove his "loyalty" to the Queen of Hades again.

But the pirate is a cunning guy. Although he appears unsure, he actually has a sure chance of victory.

He knew that Gul'dan, the orc warlock he had promised to the Queen, would never leave the Endless Sea of ​​Azeroth alive no matter what.

Even without his intervention, Gul'dan would definitely have died.

Because this orc warlock, driven by ambition, has offended a person among the stars that he absolutely cannot afford to offend.

He is dead.

For Blake, the only difficulty in this hunt is how he can take him out of the tomb of the gods that has been sealed for thousands of years before Gul'dan and his soul are torn apart by the violent demon.

.

He needs that soul.

He needs Gul'dan...many things, which are necessary armaments that must be collected before a gorgeous and grand betrayal.

That's why he needs Garona.

He couldn't do this with his own skills, but Garona could!

The premise is that Garona cannot be controlled by the Shadow Council, otherwise things will become quite troublesome.

"I had doubts before, but the power behind you is indeed amazing. As you said, we foreigners know too little about Azeroth."

On the hilly river bank, the legendary assassin wiped her right arm with her left hand. The mist that had just stained her made her very uncomfortable, so she did not hide her figure anymore.

After hearing the conversation between the pirates and the Hell Messenger, she finally let go of her wariness towards Black.

Probably as Blake said, she could still be alive after failing.

But if Blake failed, he was finished.

He longed to see Gul'dan die more than Garona, and this alone was enough for Garona to have limited trust in Black.

she says:

"You are too reckless. You are so weak and you are involved with such a force. I know you are trying to resist them, but you have no chance of winning."

"reckless?"

Blake, who was sitting opposite Garona, shook his head and said:

"My problem at the time was that if I didn't join them, I wouldn't have the chance to talk to you like this now. That's not reckless, it's just struggling in a desperate situation.

This cursed fate was not chosen by me.

Just like you were adopted by Gul'dan when you were young, you can't resist that fate. You can only survive in death. Let me ask you, madam, about the soul attractor you just saw.

If you fight him, are you sure you can win?"

Faced with this question, Garona did not choose to answer immediately. Instead, she stroked the legendary dagger on her waist. After thinking for several minutes, she nodded.

explain:

"If it were just the half-giant, I would be confident if I had the upper hand. But he obviously has weird power. If he has that kind of power, and I don't have the same external assistance, I will lose.

Very miserable.

You have to understand, Blake.

No matter how powerful we are, we are only mortals, and they come from legends and myths. Gul'dan is an out-and-out bastard, the most greedy person for power I have ever seen in my life.

But even he is teaching me again and again.

We must always remain in awe and vigilance for these forces beyond mortal sight."

"Um."

Black was not surprised by the answer.

He did not show much disappointment. After a few seconds, he stood up, took out the unconscious little fishman from the backpack on his waist, handed it to Garona, and said:

"Take good care of it for me and remember to feed it some water every day. I will try my best to complete the second phase of training in the shortest possible time and increase my strength as much as possible before Gul'dan arrives.

But after hearing what you just said, I felt a hint of...the irony of fate."

The pirate curled his lips and said:

"The person who taught you to fear power, who was so evil to the point of purity, and who was so selfish to the extreme, is now about to drown in his out-of-control desire and ambition for power.

How ironic."

---

At the same moment when Blake and Garona were discussing Gul'dan, they were farther north in the hills, beyond the magical city of Dalaran, which was built on the shores of Lake Lordamre.

The Tirisfal region where the Royal City of Lordaeron is located has completely entered a state of war without any defense.

Tens of thousands of violent and brave Blackstone Orcs, led by Warchief Orgrim Doomhammer, crossed the Alterac Valley, which was originally regarded as a natural danger by the Alliance.

They poured out from the foothills of the southeastern part of the city of Lordaeron and only needed to travel less than thirty kilometers to reach the undefensible city of Lordaeron.

The entire royal city was in chaos, and armies from the entire Tirisfal region were rushing over to support.

But the orcs were obviously well prepared, and several small clans were sent to the surroundings of the royal city to establish a temporary defense line.

The last bastion of mankind is right in front of them. The victory that the tribe desires and the opportunity to defeat the Alliance in one blow are right in front of them. There is almost no need for Orgrim to mobilize their inner desire for attack.

All orcs are full of fighting spirit.

They will fight to the last man in their own defense line, giving the Warchief who personally leads his troops to attack Lordaeron enough time to siege the city.

The best thing is that the human army is still on the battlefields of the Hills and Quel'Thalas.

They won't be able to come back in a short time.

The city of Lordaeron is like a stripped-down beauty. Facing the eager orcs, it seems to have no power to fight back, but there are not no warriors on the human side.

In fact, when faced with a real choice, humans also showed amazing courage.

"boom"

The huge rocks were swung by the orcs' engineering trebuchets, and they hit the nearly 20-meter-high city wall of Lordaeron. Like a giant's fist, the bricks and stones of the city wall were flying everywhere, and the heavy stones were flying.

The stones were trembling.

A few unlucky human infantrymen guarding the city wall failed to stand firm and fell dancing with joy during the impact. Their wailing added a touch of sadness to the besieged city wall.

But they were hopeless.

If they fell from such a height, they were already dead. Even if they were lucky enough to survive, the orcs gathering like a green tide below would not spare their lives.

"boom"

The cannons set up by the humans on the city walls opened fire immediately, as if they were fighting back against the orc army.

The cannon built by the dwarves burst into flames, and the heavy cannonballs flew out, arcing into the orc army, leaving a bloody scar.

It's like a rock being thrown into the rolling tide, only blocking the tide a little bit.

But in the next moment, more armored orcs came forward.

They held high the rough and barbaric clan war flags, and amid the thunderous sound of war drums and roars, they carried the newly made siege ladder and rushed toward the white city wall, risking their lives.

Warchief Orgrim Doomhammer was currently riding on his black wolf, in the center of the orc army, looking at the human city in front of him with cold eyes.

He was wearing a set of black plate armor, which Orgrim made himself when he was young, and he was holding a heavy one-handed war hammer with a square head and square head in his hand.

The material doesn't look like steel, but more like some kind of solid and heavy stone.

It's called Doomhammer.

This is the origin of Orgrim's surname, a legendary weapon forged in the magma and elemental power of the world of Draenor, the home of the orcs.

Its existence itself is a legendary story.

It represents the initial resistance of the orc civilization against the ogre empire that tried to enslave them.

That resistance was ultimately successful and became an epic that the orcs have praised for generations.

But now, this legendary weapon originally used to resist slavery has been brought into another world to carry out the cause of destruction, enslavement and conquest.

It has to be said that this is a tragedy for both the orc civilization and Doomhammer itself.

Since this legendary weapon was forged and born, there has been a legendary prophecy that has been passed down for centuries:

"It is said that the last heir of the Doomhammer bloodline will use it to bring salvation to the orcs, and then bring destruction. Then the Doomhammer will be passed on to people outside the Blackstone Clan.

Everything will change again, until this weapon and its new owner do justice once again."

A prophecy.

They are all so blabbering.

But now Warchief Orgrim, who is holding the Doomhammer, is a little distracted.

At this important moment when he was commanding tens of thousands of orcs, besieging the city of Lordaeron regardless of casualties, and was about to win the decisive battle, the war chief, who was respected by all orcs, suddenly remembered the man he had left behind.

Ancient prophecy.

As a commander, he should issue orders and adjust the battlefield now.
To be continued...