"Then who do you think I should give it to? Garrosh? That irritable little bastard may not need 5 years to bury the tribe we worked hard to build in the war, Dranosh? What is hidden in that child's heart?

There are some things, Sal, you know better than me. He has a knot in his heart, and he can't really reassure me until this knot is opened."

"Yolin is a blood-ringed orc. Blood-ringed orcs have a worship and desire for death in their bones. He is also not suitable to be the leader of the tribe... Rexxar is too withdrawn and Brox is too old. I can still rely on him.

Who?"

The warchief patted Thrall on the shoulder:

"It's just you, Sal."

"but..."

"No, I know what you want to say, and I also know what you want to say."

Orgrim interrupted Thrall's rebuttal. He stretched out his hand and pressed it on the cold surface of the Doomhammer. Then he placed the hammer in Thrall's arms. He said:

"You will say that your soul does not look like a real orc... but what does it matter? Thrall... no one cares what your soul is, they will only see your appearance.

Seeing your steady acting style, seeing your wise thinking, seeing your excellent overall view, you have passed the test. My son, all the chiefs are very satisfied with you, not to mention... we old men still owe your father

A love."

"If Durotan had not died, he would have been the best and most outstanding chief of the new tribe. But unfortunately, my brother died early in the war. But fortunately, he left a bloodline inheritance of his own."

Orgrim looked into Thrall's eyes:

"You have to be clear, Thrall, don't regard the power of the warchief as a gift or a good thing."

"What I give you is a difficult responsibility and a heavy mission. The orcs and humans have signed a peace agreement, which is good, but the rift between the orcs and the elves has appeared, and you need to spend a lot of energy and time.

To make up for it... Of course, you can also resort to war, which is also a way to solve it. After the demon war, the elven civilization in its weak period may be defeated by the joint attack of humans and orcs."

"But is that really what we want to see happen?"

The great chief shook his head, looked back at the dancing light in the distant sky, and said softly:

"Thal... take the tribe and move forward, but you must always be wary of this world. The outer veil of this world is being pulled away bit by bit, and a real, more cruel world will appear in front of you.

..."

"I know you will make the right choice, you always do..."

Behind Thrall, Elder Drek'Thar's palm patted his shoulder. The always wise old orc whispered:

"The bells of the old era have already sounded, Thrall, after humans, the old guys in the orc civilization are also leaving, then the night elves, and then the draenei...a man who hangs high above the world

The will wants to see a new world that is stronger and more united. This is not a desire, but a requirement, a compulsion, a pressure..."

In the shining light of dawn, Orgrim's black armor began to float freely like burned ashes. The same was true for the other chiefs. They were leaving. They had fulfilled their final mission, and they had used their

Sacrifice buys the last time for the new generation.

"Don't let him down, Sal."

Orgrim took a step back. In the halo of dawn, he opened his arms as if to embrace the sunshine. In this dawn, the civilization of the orcs slowly turned a new page. In the ashes

Dissipated in the light, the deep voice sounded like a farewell in the ears of all young people:
Chapter completed!