In his heart, Duke warmly greeted Nozdormu's ancestors, and sincerely offered the Chinese national curse that embodied the essence of five thousand years of Chinese civilization to this bastard, level 10086 Time Dragon.
All the words that could be used in my mind have been used by Duke more than ten times.
He could easily imagine the scene of Rhonin, Krasus, Vanessa and Brox singing and hiking in the forest of Azeroth, and then happily meeting the demigod Cenarius and playing games happily together.
Why do these four guys get to choose the difficulty of the game?
My goodness, I started with the hell difficulty?
I, Duke, am the first to disagree.
Well, you can shout, but it won't do anything to change the current situation.
Since Nozdormu had sent him to the Twisting Nether, one of the Burning Legion's lairs, Duke was surrounded by billions of demons. Duke's only way to survive was to find a way to break into the ground formation as soon as possible and successfully teleport to Azeroth legally.
For example... gaining Kil'jaeden's favor and making yourself a part of Kil'jaeden's sinister plan.
This meant that even though Duke knew that there was a bowl of hot shit in front of him, he had no choice but to eat it with his nose pinched!
Sitting casually on the surgical chair that was beginning to deform and become suitable for Duke's body shape, Duke gave Grom a look -
Believe me!
Looking at Duke, Grom's heart skipped a beat and his mouth was filled with bitterness. Born in that primitive and barbaric world full of courage and heroism, Grom was always proud of being a great orc.
Orcs are the bravest race!
Orcs are the greatest and most advanced race!
Grom believed it firmly from the time he was born until he drank the demon's blood.
Until he saw other more brilliant civilizations, such as the draenei, humans, dwarves, elves... when the orcs won, he never admitted that other civilizations were superior or more advanced than the orcs.
But the brutal Battle of Blackrock Mountain changed everything.
In the face of overwhelming artillery shells, the last elite of the orcs were burned to ashes, and the free and powerful orcs became slaves of humans for twelve years. When they regained their freedom while the Scourge was rampaging, and once again saw the violent artillery and mechanical civilization, even the most proud orcs had to admit that in the field of civilization, the orcs were far behind other races.
The alliance led by Duke has far surpassed the Horde in terms of combat power.
Grom couldn't even imagine what would have happened if the Alliance hadn't turned its guns on the Horde and gone to war without the oppression of the Scourge and the Burning Legion.
However, when he was teleported by Nozdormu to the Burning Legion's space battleship ten thousand years ago and witnessed such grand and brilliant interstellar technology, he finally realized a fact with shame - the orcs were completely backward!
Not to mention compared with the Burning Legion's high technology, even compared with the Alliance 15 years after the Dark Portal 10,000 years later, the Horde is simply primitive.
After fighting guerrilla warfare in Tirisfal Glades for thirteen years, Grom fully realized what it meant to be beaten if you fall behind.
He had asked himself countless times why he did not die bravely, but instead lived in hell oppressed by humans and the entire alliance.
Later, he came to a conclusion.
In hell.
Survival has meaning.
Only by surviving can the race reproduce and there is hope of controlling the future, so living and fighting have meaning.
Amid the constant deaths of his companions, Grom survived, not by surviving by miracle, but by fighting his way out with one axe at a time.
The sacrifice of his companions had long made Grom forget what tears were.
Even though he always woke up from nightmares of violence and bloodthirstiness brought about by the sequelae of the devil's blood, he could not deny that his fighting behavior was wrong.
No matter how much pain he was in, or what he thought about this horrible blood curse, only fighting could save his people and lead them towards the future.
This bloody road is destined to be full of thorns. Perhaps one day, he will be left alone wandering at the gate of hell.
Fortunately, he finally waited for Thrall, a young and Warchief who made the Horde rise again.
There were several times when he even wanted to throw away the heavy responsibility on his shoulders and die peacefully with his beautiful expectations for the orcs.
Looking at the rising city of Orgrimmar, Grom had only one last wish in his heart - to repay a human's kindness.
Although that guy was once the public enemy of the Horde, he was also the greatest man.
His greatness even transcends racial and national boundaries.
Just for the sake of paying off his debt, he resolutely agreed to come to this damn time ten thousand years ago to fight for a historical correction mission that seemed to have nothing to do with orcs.
However, at this moment, he suddenly found that he had a new responsibility on his shoulders - he had a responsibility! He had to tell Thrall and the entire tribe about the horror of the Burning Legion that he had witnessed with his own eyes!
In order to achieve this goal, he had to watch his benefactor with his own eyes, taking on yet another disaster for him right in front of him!
Grom's strong arms were struggling, his mouth was moving, and his still sharp fangs were chattering, not because of fear, but because of - excitement!
right!
He owed Duke another life!
Even though he had seen with his own eyes how Duke forcibly transformed Archimonde's evil curse power into holy light, this could not eliminate the guilt in his heart. Grom knew very well what would happen once such a high-purity evil energy entered his body.
But Duke smiled and took away the despair that should have belonged to Grom.
Without saying anything, Duke looked at me with a proud look, as if to say - you want to pollute me? Even if you do it a hundred times, it won't be enough!
Duke lay down with a smile on his face, and then made countless plans in his mind, and put on layer after layer of mental protection in the deepest part of his heart...
"Come on!" Actor Duke had a fanatical expression on his face, as if he was willing to sacrifice his body for the Burning Legion.
That is the desire for power!
That is the worship of the strong!
The Eredar twins, who were unsure of Duke's intentions at first, finally showed a look of satisfaction.
That's right, this is the expression that those useless and useless surrenderers should have!
The huge and terrifying needle pierced directly into Duke's heart. High-purity evil energy, which was enough to make a large number of Doomsday Guards envious and hateful, was injected directly into Duke's heart drop by drop.
"Ahhhhh——" Even a gentle man like Duke could not suppress the violent reaction in his body and let out a series of bestial roars.
Nozdormu - I will castrate you when I return!!!