Azeroth Shadow Trail
Chapter 244 63. Damn Odin Thinks You Still Lack Something
Chapter 244 63. Damn Odin thinks you still lack something
Orgrim really did not expect that there would be such a "strong support" from the alliance.
But he has gone too far.
He had already brought the last elite that he had carefully prepared for this battle, and at the most chaotic moment of the battle, he inserted it into the battlefield like a sharp knife.
Brave Boo Rocks accompanied him.
This loyal and violent warrior is willing to follow him to Cape Tianya.
But when those golden Valkyries fell from the sky, the warchief knew that he had lost, and the Horde had lost.
There is no chance of a comeback.
For a moment, the great chief wanted to take the absolute elite behind him, break through the alliance's defense line, humiliate them, and then walk away.
Go back to the Dark Portal, go back to the world of Dellano, go back and invite the more violent Grom Hellscream and Kargath Shattered Hands, and form an army of tribes to fight back to this world.
This failure may only be temporary.
But this idea, without staying in his mind for more than a second, was completely given up by Orgrim.
Because he saw it, the person in front of him!
Anduin Lothar!
The commander-in-chief of the alliance, although he has not become the king, but the old man who can be called the "king of the alliance" is riding a horse, leading his knights to charge and kill under the stream of light in the sky.
I am less than two hundred meters away from him.
This is probably the closest distance between Orgrim and Lothar, the old rivals, since the fall of the Stormwind Kingdom.
If he left this time, even if he came back in the future, it would be absolutely impossible for him to have such an opportunity again.
"Bu Rocks!"
Orgrim took the reins of the war wolf, swung his war hammer, and sent an assassin who came out from the side and wanted to attack him spitting blood from his mouth with a hammer, and flew backwards.
The great chief didn't look back, he just stared at Lothar in front of him.
He shouted aloud in Orcish:
"Take this elite team! Find your brother and break out! These warriors will be your clan, Bo Rocks, and you will be their chief!"
It doesn't matter if you go back to Dellano or stay in Azeroth.
The last elite of the tribe cannot be buried in this inevitable battle. "
"Don't think about it!"
The orc warrior wielding a huge ax easily harvested the heads of the surrounding enemies. His combat skills were so skillful and his strength was so great that every move would bring a devastating blow to the enemies.
The orc warlord named Boo Rocks laughed, as if he didn't care that the Horde was doomed.
While enjoying the joy of fighting, he said to the chief:
"I said I'd be by your side to the end, Warchief. I'm a warrior, and you're trying to make me relinquish my oath.
You're trying to turn me into a bastard.
Do you think I will say yes?
I have lost my honor, and I don't want to lose my oath again. "
"Let you go! Just go!"
Orgrim still didn't look back, he just tightened the reins of the war wolf. The moment he got close to Bu Rocks, he whispered:
"Drek'Thar told me when we retreated from the northern borders that the child of Durotan, the legacy of the Frostwolf clan, might still be alive"
"Ok?"
Boo Rocks, who was enjoying the battle, suddenly stopped swinging his battle axe, which gave the human paladin next to him an opportunity. The brave knight swung his shining war hammer and struck down on the orc warlord.
But the latter clenched his fist and knocked him to the ground.
Easy and freehand.
It's like the god of warriors among mortals.
"If I die"
The great chief stared at Lothar, and said in a deep voice:
"Just find Gouel for me, watch him grow up for me, tell him stories about me, about us, about our mistakes, about our hometown, about our depravity.
If I die.
Rocks, raise that boy for me, crown him Warchief for me, guide him for me, and bring back the glory we lost.
Here are your new vows!
I know you won't break your oath, so swear it, Boo Rocks.
swear it.
There must be a great chief who is defeated here, otherwise the humans will not stop hunting!
swear it.
Just do it for me.
Cloth Rocks! swear! Do you still want me to beg you! ! ! "
"I swear!"
The orc warlord clenching his battle ax gritted his teeth. After a few seconds, he shouted:
"I will defend him with my life, as I have chosen to follow you, Warchief. Farewell!"
The next moment, the warlord roared wildly, turned the reins, and gave orders to the elite orcs behind him, and followed him to break out to the other side, but there were still many orc warriors who were unwilling to abandon the chief.
They swore to follow each other to the death.
Orgrim glanced back, he laughed, and continued to rush towards Lothar.
The next moment, a sharp arrow flew over, whistling and bringing up six magic arrow shadows. While Orgrim blocked the arrows with his warhammer, those magic arrow shadows still pierced the warg that would accompany him for a long time. pierce.
The great chief fell over in embarrassment. He got up and swung the hammer, knocking down the surrounding enemies, and then half-kneeled beside his dying wolf.
He reached out and stroked the black wolf's ears and eyes.
He said:
"Find the way for me, Frostpaw, I'll be right back."
"Aww"
The dying wolf tried his best to stick out his tongue, and flicked his master's gauntlet. He seemed to respond with a painful whimper, then struggled to get up, and finally fell to the ground, lifeless.
"Pooh"
The warchief spat roughly beside him, grabbed his Doomhammer with both hands and stood up.
He looked at Lothar who was less than twenty meters in front of him.
Lothar saw him too.
In the next moment, the two warriors and the two leaders charged towards each other at the same time.
Lothar clearly had the advantage riding on a heavily armed horse.
The marshal's guards are called Iron Horse Knights, who are elite members of Lothar's many years of friends, and Lothar himself is also very good at riding, especially at charging with war horses.
This can bring him more impact, allowing him to finish the opponent cleanly.
But Orgrimmar quickly resolved the problem.
The moment Lothar charged over, the war chief drew an arc while dodging to the side.
The huge and heavy hammer hit the head of the marshal's horse severely.
The beast didn't even utter a scream, and fell down with its head smashed. The iron armor used to protect the horse's head was torn by the dent in the hammer, and a fountain of blood sprayed from its crushed bones. come out.
Its limbs twitched and fell to the ground.
But Lothar did not fall.
He jumped off the moment the horse was killed, rolled around on the ground, held the violent steel sword of the barbarian king, and hit Orgrim with a standard and powerful fatal blow.
"clang"
The sound of the collision of two legendary weapons made all the orcs and humans around cover their ears and retreat.
The sounds of the surrounding battle seemed to be eliminated at this moment.
The two leaders didn't talk at all. They just raised their weapons and collided silently and firmly. The goals of the two were very clear:
Kill each other!
End the war!
It's a contest of strength against strength, skill against skill, experience against experience.
The iron horse knights roared and rushed forward, wanting to rescue Lothar, but the elite orcs who followed Orgrim were also unstoppable to protect the chief.
Before the two decided the winner, their guards and partners started a brutal fight first.
Lothar is getting old.
His Mediterranean haircut bears witness to this, and while he was even as strong as most orcs in his youth, his strength was far from what it was then.
This does not mean that Lothar is easy to deal with.
Because old men are always good at using experience and skills to make up for their shortcomings.
Orgrim has the advantage in this duel.
He was taller, stronger, younger.
But if it's just these, it's not enough for him to win.
Both of them were wearing heavy plate armor, they were exactly the same old, and they were exactly the same time-tested.
Storm armor against black plate armor seems destined to spark a legendary story.
The weapons in the hands of the two people are all ordinary soldiers have never seen in their lives, let alone hold them. Just the legend of these two weapons is enough to write a story of 30,000 to 40,000 words.
Lothar clenched his ancestor's steel sword with both hands, and his long sword swept across from under the great chief's shoulder, cutting a gap in the orc's black plate armor.
The strength of the legendary warrior made the warchief grunt in pain.
The anger and blood on his body danced even worse, and he smashed down the war hammer wrapped in anger in his hand, causing the ground to shatter.
Lothar took a step back to avoid the attack with agility that didn't match his age at all. But Orgrim turned his wrist at the same moment and swung the hammer from bottom to top.
It almost brushed Lothar's chin and hit him, knocking his lion helmet out, allowing the marshal to block it with his sword.
The next hammer followed.
Orgrim roared, and after seizing the opportunity, he launched a series of destructive offensives towards Lothar, forcing Lothar to retreat again and again.
All of a sudden, the two legendary warriors exerted their full strength, turning the area around them into a place of death.
The weapons of the two collided, and their anger also collided.
The great chief had the upper hand. At this moment, his desire for victory became even stronger, and his attacks became more violent.
But Lothar looked embarrassed, but he was actually very calm.
He still had the scars brought out just now on his face. When the orc wanted to break through, he quickly deflected the blade in his hand and successfully shook the hammer aside.
In the next moment, his wrist was flipped, and a fierce suppression shot was made, hitting Orgrim's face with the blade of the sword.
"click"
The bridge of the chief's nose was instantly shattered, and the impact on the head almost made him faint.
Lothar turned his battle sword back and struck with a cleave, intending to behead the orc.
But Orgrim rolled on the spot in an unseemly manner, and in the blood splattered, he punched Lothar's armor with an angry punch, leaving a clear fist mark at the same time. The marshal was so beaten that he bent down and spit out blood.
"Orc! Go away!"
An angry howl sounded behind the warchief.
Without looking back at all, he took a step back to the left, and let the big sword cut from behind cut through the air. In the orc's sneer, he turned around and kicked Varian Wrynn who wanted to help Lothar behind him.
He kicked the young king several meters away and knocked down several soldiers.
"A brat has more courage than you."
Orgrim took off the cracked armor on his body, threw it aside casually, gripped the hammer again, wiped the blood on his face, and said to Lothar who straightened his body in front of him:
"You are old, King of the Alliance!"
Lothar didn't respond, but just clenched the hilt of the sword again.
The next moment, the two roared again and charged.
Orgrim, without the armor on his body, attacked faster, but Lothar was also more composed. The two legendary warriors approached again, and Orgrim used his warhammer to push aside his sword, and punched Lothar again with a heavy punch.
The power of anger and blessing made the old marshal spit out hot blood when he opened his mouth, but he let go of his weapon at this moment, clasped the fist that the great chief wanted to withdraw with both hands, and turned outward fiercely.
"click"
Lothar's rage was all added to this blow, making Orgrim's legendary body unable to withstand such an attack. Amid his screams, the bones of his entire arm were smashed by Lothar's blow .
The terrible pain made Orgrim's eyes even more angry, and the blood-red anger condensed into substance, holding the huge warhammer with one hand, and smashing it down towards Lothar.
The blow took all the brute force in his body.
Just the gust of wind when the war hammer was swung, pushed the surrounding people away brutally.
Lothar pulled out the sword beside him, and fell to the ground as shamelessly as Orgrim just now, leaning the long sword in front of him, trying to block the fierce blow.
"kuang"
Doomhammer and Stromkar collided in the next instant.
The moment the power was transmitted, the marshal's arm holding the sword was dislocated, and the full blow of the orc chieftain was blessed on the steel sword of the barbarian king.
The hammerhead bent the blade inward into a very dangerous arc.
It seemed that the sword would be broken in the next instant.
but.
No.
It finally fully withstood Orgrim's final blow, and transmitted the power of the warhammer to the ground, smashing the ground within a few meters around the two of them into cracks.
The light in Orgrim's eyes dimmed, and he knew that he had lost his last chance.
And Lothar used his intact right arm, holding the steel sword hilt behind his back the moment he stood up, roaring and throwing Orgrim to the ground like a gangster fighting.
Then
"puff"
The legendary long sword of the king of barbarians sliced through the neck of the great chief in the next instant, piercing into the flesh and blood. With the roar of Lothar's old lion, it cut off all the barriers in front of him, and cut to the end.
Hot blood spurted out wildly.
The chief's blood splashed all over Lothar's body, and then fell on the gray-white hammer head of the Doomhammer that smashed into the ground behind him, staining the chief's weapon red with blood.
The fighters on both sides stopped fighting, and the surroundings became quiet.
They watched the great chief fall to the ground, and saw Marshal Lothar staggeringly stand up, using his last strength to lift up the orc head that was still roaring at the last moment.
Won
The league won!
Lothar won!
Amidst the cheers, the old Marshal's body shook.
In the exclamation of Adjutant Turalyon, the extremely exhausted old marshal fell to the ground with a contented and calm smile. It happened to form a V shape with Orgrim's headless corpse.
——
"You are unparalleled in bravery, with outstanding combat skills. You have won many honors and made countless massacres. What is even more commendable is that in addition to your strength, you do not lack wisdom and the courage of self-sacrifice.
As a fighter alone, you are almost perfect.
But I still think you're missing something
Your heart is filled with guilt.
To your clansmen, to your friends, to your descendants, to your hometown, and to the enemies you slaughtered.”
In hallucinations after his death, Orgrim Doomhammer heard a high voice that seemed to comment on his life.
This made the great chief extremely dissatisfied.
With the thoughts in his heart, he opened his eyes and looked at the black wolf Frostclaw walking towards him. He waved to his companion and turned his back to the person behind him.
Said in a weary, lonely voice:
"Whether I'm a warrior, whether I'm perfect, it's not up to you to judge, God of Azeroth. Your paradise is beautiful, but unfortunately, it doesn't belong to me.
I heard the war song, the true home calling.
Feel sorry.
But I have to hurry up. "
(end of this chapter)
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