Chapter 1866 Do You Hate Orcs?

Vol'jin was completely speechless.

Everyone will have limitations in their vision due to various factors such as their growing environment, growth experience, ethnic status, etc.

Vol'jin is very smart, otherwise he wouldn't be Thrall's main think tank.

He also has his limitations. In the final analysis, he is just the chief of a troll clan that stood out from many original troll clans.

The trolls have lived a very hard life in the past 25,000 years. From being the largest race in the world in the distant past, with two empires spanning the entire ancient Kalimdor continent, they have become various small clans in a peaceful corner. .

Of course, he doesn't need to take other troll clans seriously. What really makes him wary is what the Alliance has done - the Alliance is not a peaceful organization. They completely destroyed the Ghost Land in the southeast of Eversong Forest. Zul'Aman, and Zul'Gurub in eastern Stranglethorn Vale.

This corresponds to the two most glorious empires in troll history, the Amani Empire and the Gurubashi Empire.

Not only that, the Rotten Moss clan in the Eastern Plaguelands was also slaughtered by the Alliance.

Although the alliance always had absolutely legitimate reasons when it took action, because these clans were causing trouble behind the alliance when the world encountered major crises, this could not conceal the decisiveness and ruthlessness of the alliance.

Proving once again that as long as the line of justice in the Alliance's heart is crossed, the Alliance will be mercilessly destroyed.

Times have changed. If we talk about the cold weapon era in the past, trolls could still use human sea tactics to fight against magic. Now, no matter whether it is the Alliance's terrifying air fleet and other hot weapons, or the highly developed Magic Network magic civilization, no mortal creature can fight against it with its physical body alone.

As soon as Thrall reminded him, Vol'jin immediately realized that the tribe and the several races that had joined the tribe were all in a very dangerous situation.

Wo'jin was discouraged: "What's the secret? What's the secret?"

Thrall smiled bitterly: "The Alliance and the Guardian Dragon of Wyrmrest Temple have made a plan to deal with Neltharion, the World Destroyer, and they need me to be a backup. Do you know? Old friend, now the tribe... or the orcs, etc. The race needs a righteous name. Only by obtaining this name, no matter how bad the tribe is in the future, the orcs and other races will not be defined as evil races."

This is to fight for a gold medal to avoid death.

Wo'jin frowned: "What about the tribe? Will you come back?"

When Vol'jin asked this question, for a moment, Thrall almost blurted out, saying, 'I will come back.' But the opposition from the Nagrand orcs, the difficulties from his compatriots... all the bitterness of the past flooded Thrall's heart.

Thrall suddenly felt a little lonely when he thought that he had made outstanding contributions to the tribe for more than ten years, but was forced to marry him by his tribe. Moreover, the noble and great cause of "wanting to do something for the world of Azeroth" attracts Thrall even more.

Thrall finally replied: "I will seriously consider it. But it must be after the crisis of the world's destruction."

This was not the answer Vol'jin wanted to hear the most, but it was better than no answer at all.

Vol'jin turned and left. Before leaving, he waved his hand: "Okay, until that day comes, the Darkspear Troll will be patient."

The noble troll leader's back seemed to be hunched a little more.

Thrall sighed. This time, he wanted to persuade Vol'jin to lead the Darkspear trolls to put the overall situation first and temporarily return to the tribe. Unfortunately, neither he nor Wo'jin could convince the other party.

Seeing destruction and desolation, Thrall felt desolate.

After leaving the Echo Islands and coming to the land he named Durotar, Thrall finally took out a small crystal that shone with arcane brilliance from his pocket and pinched it: "Duke, I'm fine. "

A second later, a portal with a blue border opened, and Thrall walked inside without hesitation.

The brief discomfort caused by the teleportation quickly passed, and Thrall looked around. The huge hall is not empty, but everything is huge in size.

As far as the eye can see are volcanic lava and black stones, and on top of that are metal creations and decorations with a Titanic style.

Because this is the Obsidian Dragon Holy Land in the northwest of Dragonblight, which is also the home of the Black Dragon Clan. Ten thousand years ago, this was the place where black dragons hatched their young. Unfortunately, with the betrayal of the black dragon clan led by Neltharion, there are now only a hundred half-dragons and dragons who obey Onyxia's orders to guard the place.

The square is large and empty in the middle. A large round table is placed in the middle of the square. A man and a woman were chatting and having lunch in the middle of the square.

Sal saw a cup of warm black tea and a plate of cookies on the table.

Duke, who was wearing a robe, and the humanoid Black Dragon Princess, who was wearing a dark red embroidered dress, were sitting on the chairs next to the table.

Regarding Sal's arrival, Duke nodded and smiled: "Sal, do you want something to drink?"

Only then did Thrall notice that there was a large tea set on the table, which was completely made to the size of an orc.

Sal nodded, without losing any momentum, and sat down peacefully.

The long experience of living in human time gave Thrall more indifference. He had never experienced the life of a Lordaeron noble. But because of his quietness and 'tameness', he was brought into noble dances or tea parties more than once as a slave gladiator champion.

Although drinking afternoon tea does not seem to match the rugged-looking Sal, there is a subtle sense of coordination here.

"Oh?" Onyxia tilted her head in surprise.

After taking a sip of black tea, Sal put down the cup and turned the cup deftly with his fingertips. He knew very well that the initiative in the conversation was not on his side, so he took the initiative to speak.

"Duke, what do you think of the current tribe?" We have known each other for more than ten years and have fought together many times. It's not just brotherhood, at least they are very familiar old friends. Thrall knows how to deal with humans very well.

Duke knew that lies meant nothing to a wise leader like Thrall, so he told the truth: "Dangerous, arrogant, and arrogant. The Horde led by Garrosh is like a powder keg that will explode if given the chance."

"A powder keg...? What a vivid metaphor." Sal smiled bitterly.

Once the powder keg explodes, you will definitely be dead. The problem is that it will also blow up people nearby. This is a typical example of harming others and harming oneself.

Duke raised his hand and curled his lips, seemingly indifferent: "Fortunately, the explosion couldn't penetrate the deck of the Alliance warship."

Thrall now understands the alliance's attitude more clearly - disgusted, wary, but not afraid at all. Once you free up your hands, you can clean up the current tribe at any time.

Thrall sighed: "Duke, do you hate orcs?"

During the Qingming Festival, the author was very busy. 2 updates in the past few days...