Chapter 182 Garrosh [Youth]

When Grommash's body was covered with cloth and carried away by the orcs, the onlookers gradually left. They gathered in front of the bonfire to attend the funeral of the old chief.

Grommash died, but the era of the tribe was not dead. When Nergal stood at the door of the palace wearing a simple white wolfskin, he had already combined the religious authority and secular power of the tribe into one, becoming the first combination of the chief and the shaman guardian.

The funeral was over soon, and the subjects of the tribe began to swear allegiance to the new chief.

"Long live the chief!"

"Long live the tribe."

Listening to the cheers of the crowd, Nergal wiped his eyes, drove away the sadness, and hid his pride. He looked indifferent and looked at his subjects. He stood proudly, casting a long shadow in the sunlight - that was the shadow of the tribe.

"From today on, I am the warchief. The tribe's conquest will not stop. All clans must prepare for war with all their strength, and all shamans of all tribes must come to Grommash. Ascension must become a compulsory course for shamans."

Nergo's words did not surprise them, or any orc would not be surprised.

But then, Nergo's second order made them a little overwhelmed, "Appoint Grommash's son, Garrosh Hellscream, as the chief of the Warsong Clan. When he comes of age, he will inherit all his father's inheritance."

Appoint Garrosh as chief? The orc chiefs were a little surprised. Is this necessary? Isn't it natural for the son to inherit the father's succession?

Wait, so Nergo actually wants to interfere in the inheritance rights of each tribe, so that the deceased can inherit the clan with the approval of the tribal chief?

Although no one dared to object to this matter with his prestige, it was a bit shameless to use this matter as an excuse shortly after Grommash's death.

But they didn't dare to object, and some even hurried out to agree with Nergo, "I will send someone to Garadar to read your order."

That's right, Garadar didn't stay there after all. Before he died, he was still taking care of the patients in the small village in Nagrand that was responsible for isolating the patients. Therefore, the place was named Garadar.

"No need, I'll go there myself." Nergo shook his head. This was Grommash's last wish. He would fulfill his will. Brainless? Smart!

………………

Nergo was thinking as he walked, what should the tribe do next? Should it clear the plants and completely unify Draenor, or should it prepare for war to go to Azeroth with all its strength.

After thinking about it, the difference between the benefits and the cost of clearing the plants was too big, and it was not worth it at all. It would be better to send troops to Azeroth as soon as possible, because the land there is much more fertile than this.

As for the kingdoms of Azeroth?

Don't you know that the land of the predecessors will be harvested by the descendants? In the past, they could take away the trolls, and today the tribe took away theirs, so don't complain.

But the most important thing now is Garrosh. To be honest, when Garrosh and his group were infected with the red plague, he already knew that almost no one could expect them to survive successfully.

But for Grommash and his Warsong orcs, dying on the battlefield is not a problem at all. However, dying for honor is one thing, and dying in bed for no reason is another.

Moreover, as the son of the chief, dying weakly in bed would be a great shame for him and his clan. That's why, when they were infected, Grommash isolated them immediately, hoping to cure them and become a glorious warrior.

Nergo flew over a hill and saw a small village in front. The walls here are close together, the roofs are semicircular, and the architectural style is no different from that of most orc villages. There are also some shamans, doctors and draenei here.

Nergo flew to the entrance of the village and headed towards the village. He saw a few orcs walking slowly, but their brown skin was no different from others. They recovered well, and Nergo slowly stopped.

"Gaiaan!"

Nergo's voice spread throughout the village. The orcs raised their heads, looking very surprised, and then quickly disappeared into the nearest huts. They recognized Nergo. Even here, the war reports of the tribe often made them proud.

They notified Gaiaan, who appeared from the room and strode towards him. Under the sunlight, her voice was gentle, without the previous sharpness, "King Nergo?"

"Huh? I haven't seen you for a long time." Gaiaan exclaimed.

"Why are you here?" she asked. He was sure that Nergo would not come here to chat with him.

"I'm here to take them home." Nergo looked at them, "They are recovering well, and the clan members miss them too."

If they were Mag'har orcs from the original world, Gaiaan might have started to curse them at this moment, and said something like Garadar is our home.

But in this world, the tribe has never forgotten them. From time to time, a convoy of the tribe comes here to provide them with supplies and medicines. After the Draenei joined the tribe, many priests were sent by him to heal the patients.

The tribe has never forgotten them, so Gaiaan's attitude is also very good. She responded: "Yes, the Draenei priests have superb treatment skills. These patients have almost recovered except for their slow movements."

"Come on, I'll take you to see Garrosh, he's been thinking about you and his father." Gaiaan took him to a hut, only to find that a figure had already walked out of his hut and was heading towards them.

It was a male orc, a young warrior. As he approached, Nergo could see that he was tall and muscular, and except for the fact that he walked with a sway, he was almost a typical orc warrior.

He knew who this was, Garrosh, the son of Grommash.

"Nergo!? I'm so glad to see you." Garrosh walked forward quickly, although it was still very slow, but the joy on his face made people ignore this.

He stepped forward and hugged Nergo, "Did my father ask you to come? How is the tribe, can I join the battlefield?"

He asked one question after another, and it was obvious that the messenger had not told them that Grommash was dead.

Unlike the original plot, Garrosh at this time was full of pride in his identity as the son of Grommash. His father did not take the lead in drinking the blood of the demon, but was the chieftain of the tribe, and the servants of the demons went on an expedition to bring justice to the orcs.

Nergo lowered his head and remained silent.

Garrosh may have realized something, he asked: "Where is my father?"

"Where is Grommash?"

"I came to tell you one thing, the chieftain is dead." Nergo's words made Garrosh's pupils shrink.

But he did not cry, did not collapse, perhaps he realized it, or perhaps he understood that the fate of a warrior would eventually come to this day.

It was so calm that it seemed as if he was not talking about the death of his father.

"Why did he die." Garrosh asked softly.

"He was seriously injured in the battle with the demon lord and died, but until the last moment, he showed amazing bravery." Nergo took out two things from his magic pocket, one was Gorehowl, Grommash's battle axe, and the other was the shoulder armor - the fangs of Mannos.

"This is what your father left for you. He asked me to take good care of you."

At this time, a tear fell from his eyes. Garrosh touched the demon's fangs and his father's battle axe, as if he saw the proud warrior standing in front of him, telling him the glory of the Hellscream family.

"Come with me, I will train you to become the next warchief." Nergo touched his head. This time, he did not resist or be dissatisfied.