Chapter 116 Peace Negotiation

"My opinion is to negotiate peace with them." Nergo said shockingly.

"Nergo?" Grommash pointed in the direction of Highmaul. "The city is here. As long as we launch an attack, they will be completely destroyed. Now you tell me that you want to negotiate peace?"

But in the end, Grommash still chose to listen to Nergo's reasons. This orc shaman has realized almost everything he said in the past (except the grand plan called the Horde).

And his father also died in the battle with the ogres. Let alone him, no one would believe that Nergo has sympathy for the ogres.

"Highmaul is a big city with a long history." Nergo said: "The city defense is strong and the population is large. If we attack it by force, I have no doubt that we will conquer it, but how many people will die? The cost is too high, and there are many uncertain factors."

"Orcs are not afraid of death." Grommash was a little stubborn, but he had already admitted this fact in his heart. If the ogres in Highmaul all exert their strength, then what can they do even if they conquer it?

The inheritance of the Lawbreaker cannot be obtained, the city is mostly destroyed, and many people have to die. This is not a pure loss-making business.

He is reckless, but not stupid.

In front of such a wall, even if there are only a few thousand ogres, it is enough to frustrate the 10,000-strong orc army.

It is like Constantinople in the Middle Ages, where 200,000 Ottoman troops surrounded Constantinople and faced less than 8,000 mercenaries and volunteers.

The Ottoman side even used artillery and other killing weapons and naval blockades, but what was the result?

After a long siege, they almost overturned!

Not to mention that the current orcs' suppression of Highmaul is not as strong as the Ottomans' suppression of the Eastern Roman Empire.

"I know that the young men of the clan are all good, and they are worthy of the name of their ancestors." Nergo smiled and said, "But wouldn't it be better if they could be persuaded to surrender?"

"Will they surrender?" Grommash expressed doubts.

"It depends on what kind of person their ruler is." Nergo said, "If he is a monarch with a strong character, then it will be difficult for them to surrender, but--"

"If he is really tough, why would Highmaul Castle be like this?"

"That's right." Grommash nodded, "Ogres are softies."

"Yes, they are weak, and this is also our opportunity. I want to go to their royal court in person to see whether their ruler will fight or surrender."

Nergo was looking forward to what this once glorious city looks like? Is it carrying the same disgusting and decadent smell as their nobles, or as heavy as the ancient history.

"You?"

Gromash shook his head, somewhat dissatisfied with Nergo's words.

"How can you be asked to do something that can be accomplished by sending an envoy casually?"

This reckless man!

Gromash frowned, and regardless of Nergo's opinion, he took the piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth, blocking the words that Nergo wanted to say.

"Now your task is to enjoy the joy of victory."

………………

The gate of Highmaul Castle slowly opened.

An orc messenger without armor climbed up the stone steps, each of which was half his body high.

Unfriendly eyes.

Fearful eyes.

Disgust, hatred.

The messenger enjoyed this feeling. The impotent rage of these ogres made the messenger full of ridicule towards them.

"Highmaul Castle is nothing more than this."

He walked up the elevator with arrogance on his face, not worried at all that the ogres watching him would pick up their spears and stab him to death.

Although they seemed to have been unable to hold back.

"Only the house is okay."

He smacked his lips. These stone houses looked very good.

Walking out of the elevator, it was a small hillside. The guards who guided him forward were not sure who was ordering them to humiliate the orc messenger. They actually took the messenger to a slave pen.

The air here was full of stench and dust. There were no houses to live in. There were only sheds for the orc slaves to live in.

There, the haggard slaves lined up in order and performed a variety of tasks under the whip of the ogre supervisor. Each orc had a series of whip marks on his body.

The numb orcs looked at the messenger with disbelief in their eyes.

Is this orc also a slave? No, he is dressed much better.

"This is the fate of your people." A team of ogres in silk robes were staring at the messenger.

The fattest and tallest ogre among them, with the most gorgeous clothes, who looked like their leader, spoke.

"The King of Witchcraft sent me to listen to the news of your chief." He said.

Even at this time, the ogre was still arrogant, "You have five minutes. If you don't satisfy me, you will become one of them."

"Who are you?" The messenger looked up and down. Can this obese fat man make the decision?

"I represent the King of Witchcraft. Just call me a councilor."

This is his proudest identity. Being able to enter the head of the parliament means that he is an ogre who surpasses 99% of the ogres.

Of course, in Margok's eyes, this 99% is likely to be stupid.

This does not mean that they are unique, but that they are one in a hundred among the nobles.

"You are not qualified." The messenger snorted coldly, "The king told me that the order is to meet with your chief."

"Not all the scumbags are worthy of listening to it."

The envoy's appearance of not taking the ogre seriously made them very angry, but what could they do? The envoy looked disdainful. He had already known his fate, and he would do whatever he wanted to do, no matter how arrogant he was, or how he would seek death.

In short, it is to let those ogres know that times have changed, now it is the world of orcs, and your so-called nobility is worthless.

It doesn't matter even if he dies, it just inspires the other orcs.

In short, if he could set foot on Highmaul and pretend to be a soldier, he would die without any regrets.

"You——" The ogre councilor leaned forward and bent down, as if a mountain was about to fall on him.

"Aren't you afraid of becoming a slave?"

The messenger opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly stopped. The ogre smiled. He thought the orcs had surrendered to his threat, but the messenger just thought of a better answer.

He glanced at every ogre around him, and then looked at the orc slaves working in the slave pen.

"How long have you been enslaved? How long has your family lived in precarious life?" He said: "But it doesn't matter, at the latest a week, no orcs will be enslaved here. Chief Hellscream has not forgotten you, don't When you are confused, pick up the shovel and mine in your hands..."

When he wanted to incite the slaves to riot, the congressman stopped him in time.

"Lucky boy." He said with a sullen face, "The King of Witchcraft agreed to summon you."