Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 146:45. The Margok Emperor treats Grand Duke Moknassa well. The relationship between the ruler and his subjects is a perfect match. It will surely become a good story.
The Frostwolf Clan murdered the Thunderlord Clan's envoy, which was essentially equivalent to cutting off the two clans' last hope for peace. Therefore, after receiving a report from the envoy who had nearly frozen to death on the road, the demon wolf Fenris Wolfbride naturally stopped being polite.

He gathered his troops and led the fierce wolf cavalry of the Thunder God Clan through the wind and snow towards the ancestral land of the Frostwolf Clan.

This was not so easy. After all, there was a troublesome Blade Tower Fortress blocking the territories of the Thunderlord Clan and the Frostwolf Clan. The border town left over from the Gorian Empire almost separated the east and west of Frostfire Ridge.

Under normal circumstances, the Thunderlord Clan's march across the Cracked Plains in such a large force would have been unacceptable without alerting the ogres, but times had changed.

Although Fenris described the Shadow Council warlocks' secret actions in Frostfire Ridge as "meddling in other people's business", their unexpected connection with the ogre wizards of Blade Tower Fortress did provide great convenience to the Thunderlord Clan. Although this did not mean that the Blade Tower Ogres would completely side with the War Horde, the successful joint action of the two sides to "harm" the Frostwolf Clan a few days ago gave Fenris the best opportunity to unify Frostfire Ridge.

As a clan chieftain who aspires to be king, Fenris will never give up the feat of destroying the Frostwolves in one blow.

Now that the ogres did not stop the Thunderlord Clan's massive advance, it meant that Fenris could devote thousands of elite wolf riders to the attack on the Frostwolf Clan's ancestral land of Wor'gol at once.

He was born and raised there, and Fenris could find his way around the terrain with his eyes closed.

The Thunderlord Clan under his command is powerful and naturally has more than just a few thousand wolf riders. This is mainly because the White Claw Clan's territory has just been swallowed up by him and has not yet been digested. Fenris must send out several high-level warlords to intimidate the new territory. In addition, the War Horde's large-scale invasion of the Talador region also urgently needs the assistance of powerful wolf riders.

He desires the position of chieftain, but he cannot reveal his double-mindedness now. He must send enough elite wolf cavalry to support Blackhand.

After distributing them one by one, these are the only elite troops left in Fenris's hands.

But now the Frostwolf Clan has been infected by the red scourge spread by the warlocks. They are extremely weak and their combat effectiveness can't even maintain 40% of the usual level. Although the enemy has more people, I have the advantage. Now is the best time to wipe them out in one fell swoop.

Therefore, the wolf pack composed of black iron wolves rushed forward in the extremely cold wind and snow of Frostfire Ridge. The howling of the wolves one after another cast an ominous chill on this permafrost snowfield.

Fenris is a strong and powerful orc.

He was a few years older than Durotan, but his facial features alone showed that he was ferocious and ruthless. This orc had a pair of gray eyes since he was a child, symbolizing his indifference.

Unlike those wandering orcs who were driven out of their own clans and forced to join other clans, he was not treated differently by his tribe members, and his parents were extremely kind to him. However, the overly "weak" and gentle atmosphere within the Frostwolf Clan made Fenris feel uncomfortable.

He longs for nothing less than the ferocious conquests of Frostfire Ridge's Arctic Storms. He loves to hear the legendary slaughter of the Battle of Blood River, and is very dissatisfied with his father Galad's kindness in allowing the declining White Claw clan to share Frostfire Ridge with them.

Fenris hopes to see the Frostwolf Clan unify their homeland and then conquer more clans in the future.

But after his repeated advice to his father was rejected, the bloodthirsty lone wolf left the warmth of Wor'gol alone on a stormy night. He joined the Thunderlord Clan, the weakest of the three clans in Frostfire Ridge at that time, and quickly became successful. Through a glorious Mak'gora on a cold night, Fenris successfully became the chieftain of the Thunderlord Clan.

Over the years, he led the Thunder God Clan in continuous battles and finally turned this weak clan into the wolf pack in his heart. After Chief Blackhand issued the order to conquer, he joined the war tribe without hesitation.

He had his own desires. Before bloodbathing Draenor, he wanted to see Frostfire Ridge conquered by his own hands.

The death of his father and the accidental death of his second brother Ga'nar are the pains that Fenris needs to endure with his family, but for a cold-blooded orc like him, emotional weakness is the least necessary thing. In his eyes, only plunder and conquest are worth remembering!

To sum up, it is not difficult to find that Fenris Wolfbring is actually a typical "hyperandrogenic" orc, and perhaps he is also a born antisocial personality. It is the special tradition of the orcs that gives him room to play.

If this happened in Argus, it would have been targeted by the Assassin's Court as a "social instability factor" long ago.

Fenris thinks his brother Durotan is too weak to be an orc!
He has power but doesn't know how to use it. Even as a chief, he lets the glory of his wife Draka overshadow him. Draka is more like the chief of the Frostwolves than he is. But how can this be possible?

This is not the tradition of the orcs!

Since Durotan doesn't know how to lead the Frostwolf Clan correctly, he will ignite the legacy left by his weak father with his own hands. In the flames of the Frostwolf Clan's destruction, the children of Frostfire Ridge will eventually become the most deadly beast group in Draenor under his leadership!
The blue-skinned creature was only the first prey.
In this snowstorm, Fenris, clutching a hunting halberd made of gronn bones, grinned fiercely and roared in his heart:

"Blackhand and Blackstone, Grom and Warsong, Gul'dan and the Shadow Council... you will all be next! Yes, the Black Wolf God's blessing is only for the strong! I will use this hunt to prove that only the Iron Wolves of the Thunderlord clan are qualified to become the chosen ones of Lycanthoth!"

He patted the wolf under his crotch, which was so ferocious that it almost lost its dire wolf appearance. He liked this beast blessed by the Black Wolf God. This was the spiritual totem that truly belonged to the orcs in his heart.

Let the weak elements die, the orcs have a new "God of War"!
Fenris's wild conquest seemed to have been noticed by Lycanthoth, so when they crossed the Rockfang Outpost abandoned by the Frostwolf Clan and truly entered the last territory of the Frostwolf Clan, streams of blood-red "war blessings" were bestowed upon this group of running wolf riders.

It was not the shaman's bloodlust, but it had the same effect of stimulating the orcs' anger.

The best part is that the blessing of Lycanthoth allows the powerful orcs to maintain a bit of rationality in their rage, which is simply an added advantage!
"Chief, look ahead! Something's wrong with Wor'gol!"

Fenris's wolves quickly approached their destination, but a high-ranking warlord noticed something was wrong.

He took Fenris's warg by the bridle and said to his chieftain:
"There aren't many Frostwolf warriors there, and even fewer civilians! They should be too sick to break out, but there's nothing around here."

"Haha, it must be Durotan who made his weak people hide in the Ice Valley."

Fenris waved his hand and said:

"That place is a refuge known only to the Frostwolf Clan. The difficult mountain roads prevent the large group of wolf riders from entering. But don't worry, it's very barren and can't even support the wounded and the elderly of the Frostwolf Clan. My brother is quite courageous. He must have formed the last line of defense in Wor'gol to resist us.

He wanted to use this suicidal blockade to buy time for his people. This was what the Frostwolf Clan warriors were taught, and this was what they were sure to do.

"After we conquer Wor'gol, we only need to send people to seal the entrance to Ice Valley. Don't worry, my warlord, the Frostwolves can't escape! Unless they can grow wings and fly from the coast to Nagrand on the other side of the strait, they can't escape!"

"Well, that's it."

The warlords of the Thunderlord clan understood that they did not need Fenris's command, so they each took their wolf cavalry and dispersed to try to break into Wor'gol from different directions.

As the Wolf King, Fenris naturally had to take the responsibility of the frontal attack. He roared and led his most ferocious and loyal warriors across the lava river near Wor'gol, waving weapons and rushing into the ancestral land of the Frostwolf Clan in the falling snow. He even saw those weak Frostwolf warriors guarding the simple fortifications.

He even saw his weak brother standing on the heights of Wor'gol, blowing the war horn.

"Durotan!"

Fenris charged on his warg, roaring:
"Come out and face me! If you still want your people to live, then come out! Face your brother! Face the devastating storm of Frostfire Ridge!"

Durotan also saw his elder brother.

He was coughing while leaning on his cold steel battle axe. Gray spots had spread to the neck of the sturdy orc chief. The dizziness in his mind made the Frostwolf Chief feel weak all over, but he still tried hard to keep himself standing.

If he could, he would have fought his way out like a real orc and challenged Fenris, who had dared to invade the Frostwolf territory. But at this moment when all the traditional orcs were being plotted against, he had to use another "weapon" of his to face Fenris's provocation.

"woooooo"

The desolate sound of the deep bone horn echoed throughout Wor'gol.

The Frost Wolf Marshals who had been prepared for a fight to the death immediately roared and led their warriors to charge out. These weak guys were not worth mentioning in the eyes of the Thunder Wolf Cavalry. They had become stronger after drinking the magic blood, while the opponents had become weaker after being infected by the plague. This was simply a crushing battle.

Fenris also thought so, that wolves should ruthlessly devour the weak to make themselves stronger.

"Submit! Or die!"

The warlord of the Thunder God clan swung his skull hammer and killed the Frostwolf warrior in front of him.

He saw two young orcs wearing Blackrock Clan armor in the crowd. He couldn't understand why the Blackrock Clan cubs would be in the Frostwolf's ancestral land, but that was not a problem.

Just kill them all!

He roared and charged forward, swinging his hammer in a perfect arc.

Ha, it’s getting closer, closer!
A beautiful headshot kill is about to appear before his eyes, and blood will embellish his achievements. At this moment, he is extremely powerful, and it seems that even the sky and the earth are spinning in front of his power.

As the flying head kept rolling, General Thunder God finally saw the upside-down sky and earth. When the hideous and laughing skull hit the ground, he saw a sturdy high-ranking ogre centurion who was madly slaughtering his wolf knights with a brutal beheading sword.

Behind the weak Frostwolf Clan, the Ogre King's Guard, clad in steel armor and riding savage war boars, were roaring and charging forward, holding high the battle flag of the Wizard Leader. A two-headed Ogre Wizard also appeared in a flash at a high place, continuously releasing various destructive magics from above.

when?
When did the Frostwolf Clan hide such a ferocious army in Wor'gol?

The sophisticated armor and weapons of these ogres are even more terrifying than the elite warlords in Blade Tower Fortress. And the battle flags they carry on their backs. When I was a child, I vaguely heard my parents say that such battle flags came from the far south.

It seems to be a legend about the Ogre Empire.

"boom"

Dranosh swung his foot and kicked the ferocious demon-blooded orc's head away. The young but brave warrior held a cold steel battle axe and a protective round shield, protecting his sister and continuing to slash forward.

This wasn't his first time in combat.

Having grown up in the brutal Blackrock Clan, he already had his share of achievements, but this was indeed his first time charging alongside the ogres.

To be honest, considering the grievances and hatreds between orcs and ogres over the past hundreds of years, Dranosh would rather believe that he might not have woken up, and all this, including his father drinking the devil's blood, might just be an absurd dream.

Distraction on the battlefield is fatal.

When Dranosh turned around, a bloodthirsty wolf that had lost its master pounced towards him, but the ferocious beast was hit by a flying purple arcane arrow in mid-air.

The terrifying destructive force tore the wolf apart, and the smelly blood splattered all over Dranosh.

He turned around and saw the blue-skinned man who had crossed the sea with the ogre. Uh, the Draenei female arcanist was waving her crystal staff to summon arcane monsters to join the battlefield. The rescue just now was just a casual act of hers.

The "favored disciple" of the wizard leader Mar'gok, "Traveler" Lelan also noticed the gaze of the young orc he rescued.

When she summoned several arcane beasts to kill the enemy using the advanced arcane technique of "Super Magic·Replication Rune" taught by her mentor, she turned around and gave Dranosh a gentle smile, and made a gesture that was only used within the Blackrock Clan.

That stands for "keep fighting."

Hmm, this amazing Draenei arcanist must have learned all this from previous interactions with his own people.

She was a friend, no doubt about it.

Alas, these warlike draenei could have been friends of the orcs, but the malice of Gul'dan and Blackhand made them warlike.

On the other side, under Durotan's somewhat guilty gaze, Fenris and his wolf riders who had rushed forward were already in a dilemma of being surrounded and killed by the brutal King's Guards.

Led by Mal'gok's general, Kra'ago the Demon Breaker, the elite soldiers of the newly formed "Goriya Expedition" ruthlessly slaughtered the demon-blooded orcs and their demon wolves before them.

The noble wizard leader was suspended in the air with violent arcane magic, waving the leader's scepter to protect his warriors.

Although the Goria Empire's ancestral "Titan God Runes" have been cut and polished in the manufacture of artifacts, the remaining rune fragments still have pure arcane power, and because they have become smaller, they are more suitable for carrying.

The already powerful Mar'gok, now strengthened by the four divine rune stones floating beside him, is surrounded by arcane thunder, like a god descending from heaven.

The Goria Empire's unique "Arcane Super Magic" technique was easily unleashed, causing the elemental forces of the entire Wor'gol to wail in fear. The King's Guards didn't even need to take action. The arcane beasts constantly summoned by the "Super Magic·Replication Rune" were enough to annihilate this wolf cavalry.

These arcane aberrations look soft, but the fact that they can be shaped in the material world means that they also possess the "self-destruction" attribute unique to elemental creatures, and are like walking arcane bombs.

Amid the leader's cruel laughter, the six deformed beasts exploded simultaneously, blowing the wolf riders beside Fenris away in an instant.

Those poor fellows were still dazed and had their heads chopped off by the King's Guards before they could even stand up.

"Orc! You know nothing about the word 'Doomstorm'!"

The arrogant leader sneered and announced:
"When the Gorian Empire's banner once again flies over Frostfire Ridge after hundreds of years, you and your demon master will know that this place no longer belongs to you.

Put down your weapons!

The Alliance of K'ure will have a place before the Inquisition in Shattrath City, you pathetic war criminal!"

The ridicule of the Ogre King did not change Fenris's mind. He cooperated with his magic wolf to knock down several ogre guards, then raised his head to look at Durotan who was still standing above the beast's den.

He cursed:
"You weakling! You've brought disgrace upon the Frostwolf Clan! How dare you ally yourself with the ogres? Coward! How afraid must you be of me to find such an ally?"

"I'm not afraid of you at all! Fenris."

Durotan clutched the Frostwolf banner and cursed:
"Look at yourself! Look at your devilish green skin! You've turned yourself into a monster, and you dare to run wild in the place where you were born! You are the one who truly brings shame to my father and Ga'nar.
Ahem, I want it. I want it myself."

"Enough! Do not mention your foolish 'Mak'gora' at this time, Durotan." Mar'gok immediately stopped Durotan from seeking his own death. The wise and cunning two-headed ogre king scolded:
"You're not representing yourself right now. As a leader, you shouldn't put your personal likes and dislikes before the interests of the country. Furthermore, since you're currently at a disadvantage, you should learn to avoid the limelight. There will be plenty of opportunities to fight in the future.

Of course, if you are willing to make a will before you die and leave the divine ring that should belong to the Frostwolf Clan to me, I am not against letting you die."

"Shameless! Cowardly scoundrel!"

Seeing that his attempt to provoke Durotan to have a Mak'gora fight with him had failed, Fenris spat fiercely on the ground.

He looked around and saw that the wolf riders he brought with him had all been caught in an ambush in the Badlands. He didn't know where the legendary shaman Drek'Thar of the Frostwolf Clan was hiding, but the polar storm he and his shamans had already begun to cover Wor'gol.

Thick snow mixed with cold wind blew up. If he didn't leave now, the blockade of the blizzard alone would be enough to leave him and his soldiers with no way to escape tonight.

"woooooo"

Fenris grabbed the horn he carried with him and blew it, which was the signal to break out.

The Thundergod Wolf Cavalrymen who were still fighting hard around jumped onto their wolves without hesitation and moved in like the wind. The Thundergod Clan called themselves a wolf pack and naturally would not fight to the end for a temporary victory or defeat. They were more like a group of cunning opportunists. Now that they had hit the anvil of Wor'gol and could not take this place, they naturally had to cut their losses and retreat in time.

But to Fenris's surprise, his retreat and breakout went very smoothly.

Neither Durotan nor the wizard leader had any intention of pursuing him. As if to say farewell, they watched him and his wolf rider disappear in the polar storm that had already started.

This made Fenris feel uneasy, but he had to evacuate Wor'gol in time.

Just as they rushed out of the blizzard of the polar storm summoned by Drek'Thar and returned to the Cracked Plains, with the vigilant howl of the demon wolf, Fenris Wolfbring, who had just taken a breath, looked up and saw a huge two-headed dragon beast flapping its wings and flying down from the sky.

A sturdy old orc holding a Goron bone spear, with ferocious chains wrapped around his waist and arms, wearing clan armor, riding a flying dragon, was staring at him coldly.

Just like a hungry beast locking onto its frightened prey.

"Moknazar Leorox?"

Fenris's tone was filled with bitterness for a moment.

He finally realized why Durotan let him go. So the real killer move was here?
"boom"

The old chieftain of Mok'Nathal leaped from a flying dragon, cracking the frozen ground. He rose to his feet, and amid the clash of chains that had strangled the ogre leader, he raised his spear and pointed it at Fenris, saying:

"My people and I owe the Thunder God Clan a favor. I will never forget the friendship we shared at the Battle of Blood River."

"So you'll let me go?"

Fenris asked, and Leorox shook his head and said:

"It is not the tradition of beasts to abandon their prey, but I will keep you alive! I will keep the banner of the Thunderlord clan flying forever, whether facing Mar'gok or at the Judgment Seat in Shattrath City.

Surrender, Iron Wolf!"

"You want the children of Frostfire Ridge to surrender without a fight in this permafrost? Haha, you think too much."

Fenris jumped off his wolf and patted the loyal beast on the head. He also raised his bone halberd and ignored the two-headed dragons falling from above and the brave Mok'Nathal people who were slaughtering his wolf riders like they were hunting.

He finally saw Old White Claw land on the frozen ground not far away.

Old White Claw was also infected by the Red Scourge. He was coughing weakly, but at this moment he was like a witness. He threw the White Claw's battle flag over and it stabbed into the frozen soil with a bang.

"The White Claw clan is gone."

Zagrel said painfully:

"Another legacy of Frostfire Ridge has been lost, Fenris. If you truly care about your wolf pack, surrender. If you still have any honor left in you, surrender!"

In response, Fenris chose to pick up his halberd and kill Leorox.

He knew he couldn't win, and the guy in front of him was simply a monster, but that wasn't a reason for him to give up. He never thought he was wrong, and naturally he had the courage to bear all the costs for his decisions.

Come on, let’s fight.

Like a real orc
------

"boom"

In the chill of the dissipating polar storm, Leolox threw the blood-soaked Fenris at Durotan's feet.

Chief Frostwolf looked at his elder brother, whose bones were broken by at least one-third. He was overwhelmed with grief but did not want to let the guests laugh at him, so he personally dragged Fenris Wolfbride, who was almost "chopped into pieces", to Drek'Thar for treatment.

As a war criminal, Fenris will be sent to the tribunal of the Alliance of K'ure. The Draenei will definitely not kill him, but his eldest brother may have to spend the rest of his life as a prisoner.

For him, this was definitely an ending more painful than death.

After Durotan left, only the Wizard Chief and the old orc Leolox were left in the chieftain's tent of Wor'gol, which still retained the atmosphere of fighting.

Mar'gok sat on a chair, admiring the tribute that the Frostwolf Clan "presented" to the king. He was very interested in the elemental cold steel, a specialty of Frostfire Ridge, and was playing with a cold steel sword.

Its disciple, Leilan, who is also the "observer" of the Alliance of K'ure, stood aside, holding a record book to record the scene before him.

Because of the unique relationship between the Mok'Nathal clan and the ogres, Lelan confirmed that this conversation tonight would become a "secret event" worthy of being recorded in the history of Draenor, and she would be the only witness.

It’s such a great feeling to be a part of history firsthand!
But the Mok'Nathal people are all taciturn. Leolox, who was once a slave of another ogre wizard leader, has no good feelings towards ogres. He looked at Mar'gok coldly, waiting for him to speak.

The Wizarding Leader was not going to waste time.

It was now completely immersed in the glory of retaking Blade Tower Fortress and the desire for the power of obtaining a world artifact. It did not intend to waste too much energy on the affairs of the Mok'Nathal clan, so it directly said to the silent old orc:

"You've been freed since the Battle of Blood River for so many years, why are there still only so few of you?"

"This has nothing to do with you!"

Leorox responded coldly:

"If you have something to say, say it. If not, get out of here! Before I strangle you to death!"

"Haha, bad temper, I like it."

Margok stood up with a laugh, staring at Leolox with his three eyes, deeply shocked by the unique "creativity" of his "cousin" Korgolock.

The Mok'Nathal man in front of him had perfectly inherited the orcs' rage and agility as well as the ogres' strength and brute force. He was a perfect fusion of the bloodlines of the two races. If it were during the heyday of the Goria Empire, such an "invention" would be enough to make it the most glorious and greatest ogre leader.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, that creative guy was strangled to death by his own creation.

That's even better.

"You haven't tried to mate with other orcs to try to produce offspring, but I guess all efforts have failed."

The wizard leader said softly:
"You have been living in seclusion for many years and only marrying within your own family because this is the only way for you to reproduce. My cousin Korgorok was strangled to death by you before he could completely complete his creation of you, Leolox.

It can be said that you have personally destroyed the possibility of your people's prosperity."

"It's no big deal if it's gone!"

The old orc replied, as smelly and hard as a stone in a pit:
"Monsters shouldn't have existed in the first place!"

“But life always finds a way.”

The Wizard Leader stretched out a thick finger with a gorgeous seal on it and waved it. Its two heads showed a smiling expression and said:
"I can help you unlock the 'chain of reproduction' within your body, provided I find the data Korgorok left behind when he created you in the Blade Tower Fortress. I can prevent you from ending up in extinction.

I can invite you to join the Gorian Empire and become a branch of the nobility.

If you wish, I can even grant you the right to inherit the throne of 'Wizard Leader'.

As I have preached, Leolox, the honorable 'Grand Duke of Hunting' of the Goria Empire, I can give you everything you need, but you must bring your strength and talents to Highmaul, dedicate yourself to the revival of the empire, and become my 'Hand of the King'!
Well, I won't hide my admiration for you guys.

Perhaps perfect hybrids like you are the future of the Gorian Empire. After all, pure ogres are too stupid, a stubborn disease that even Apexis crystals cannot cure."

"Are you fucking dreaming?"

Leorox looked at Margok as if he was an idiot and cursed:

"I broke free from my chains and found my freedom. Do you think your fanciful ideas can convince me to return to my cage? Take your promise and go. Mok'Natha will never be a slave."

"Yes, yes, I believe your vow comes from the heart."

The Wizard Leader laughed heartily, spread his hands and said:
"However, you cannot make decisions for your people. As I just told you, I used rune magic to make this conversation public for all your people to hear.

Well, it's a king's little 'privilege'.

Go, return to your herd, my dear Hunting Duke. If you are unwilling to accept this honor, then go ahead. I only hope that you will not stop your people from embracing the call of the empire.

I heard you have a son who is better than you, is that right?
I guess that child who is loyal and cares about the future of the herd more than you do will one day understand and accept my call. As the head of the Goria Empire, I have plenty of time to wait. I believe that the lost wanderer will eventually return to his home.

But now, let’s talk about something more practical.”

The leader took out a carefully crafted hunting halberd made of a mixture of Goron bones and Apexis crystals from his bag and threw it to the old orc. The latter took it and wanted to throw it away, but the next moment he heard Margok say to him:

"I want to conquer the Dota Fortress!
I will take the Bladespire Ogres and the Bloodmaul Ogres back to Highmaul. You were born in that fortress and you have a claim to it. Therefore, as the sole head of the Gorian Empire, I grant you ownership of Bladespire Fortress.

It is up to you whether you want to rent the fortress to the Frostwolves or the White Claws later, but now, I need you to follow the banner of the Gorian Empire and join me in the battle.

Dota's rebellious flag will be burned forever!

So, old Beast King, would you like to go back with me to the place where you were born?

As allies, not subordinates."

At this moment, Leolox really wanted to smash the two hateful faces of Margok with the exquisite spear in his hand, but he did not do so in the end.

Just because the old chief is dull doesn't mean he is stupid.

He knew that Mar'gok came prepared, and he also knew clearly that after the Wizard Leader extended the invitation to Mok'Nathal, one day a Mok'Nathal person would accept it and become a member of the Ogre Empire.

My own people are eager for identity recognition!
This was something Leolox could not stop, and Margok was willing to give the Mok'nasa people a home and the temptation of high positions, generous salaries and normal reproduction of the tribe. This was enough for those passionate young people who were eager to contribute to their tribe to find too many reasons to convince themselves.

But he was too lazy to stop it.

Just because something he doesn't want doesn't mean it has no value. If others want it, they can take it with their own hands.

For example, my own son.
"The Hunting Duke" Rexxar or "Lord of Goria" Rexxar, that sounds impressive, doesn't it?

As for Dota Fortress, Leolox really has a lot of things he wants to accomplish there.

So, he took a deep breath and said:

"Then let's go. It's time for the Mok'Nathal people to return home."

(End of this chapter)