I traveled through time and space and became the Archbishop of Stormwind!

"Fuck, faster! You damn beast! Faster!"

Fenris, the chieftain of the Thunder King clan, was whipping the wolf beneath his crotch madly with a whip.

His war wolf howled in pain, and its fanged mouth oozed mucus mixed with blood, but it still obeyed Fenris's command and increased its speed again.

But the sound of the warg's howling did not seem to reach Fenris's ears.

The orc just stared resolutely at the dark road ahead. His mind was now filled with thoughts of how to capture the human city in the shortest possible time. All that rang in his ears were the rumbling drums of battle and the last sighs of humans when they were killed by his machetes.

The hearts of Fenris and his clan's warriors are filled with a desire for battle and glory.

Before the Horde Chieftain Ner'zhul gave him the task of attacking Stormwind City, he had imagined countless times how to use the most brutal means to massacre the humans on that continent.

Of course, in addition to Fenris's inherently brutal personality, he also longs for revenge for his brother, Durotan.

According to the orcs who escaped from the last war, Durotan and his wife died at the hands of the traitor of the tribe, the warlock Gul'dan. However, dying at the hands of a traitor during a journey of conquest that should have been full of glory is not an honorable thing.

He would rather his brother died on the charge into battle, as that was the fate of an orc.

So Fenris put all the blame on the Shadow Council, a group of warlocks headed by Gul'dan, and those hateful humans.

Now, Gul'dan has long been dead. It is said that even his skull has been made into an ornament and placed on Ner'zhul's desk.

Only by completely wiping out those hateful humans can the shame that Durotan's death brought to his family be washed away.

"Hurry up! We want to see the city when the sun rises tomorrow!"

Fenris turned and shouted to his wolf riders,

"Let those orcs behind the Dark Portal know how powerful the Thunder King Clan is!"

The orc wolf riders running wildly behind him responded to Fenris loudly.

They all raised their whips to whip their wolves and followed their chief closely.

The darkness did not seem to interfere with the orcs' sense of direction. This was because some of their warriors had escaped from the last war, and this road was not unfamiliar to them.

For example, here.

Fenris rubbed his nose. As a hunter, he was naturally highly sensitive to smells.

If the smell of demon-tainted Draenor was unpleasant, then the smell here was simply disgusting to him.

Even in the darkness, he could see the magic tower hidden in the black clouds. It was said that it was Karazhan, the former residence of the most powerful wizard in the world.

This valley called Deadwind Pass seemed to have been infected by Draenor. The originally pale earth beneath his feet began to turn a dry red. The rotten vegetation and dead animal carcasses around it began to emit a rotten stench. Coupled with the smell of the raging magical storm in the air, it made Fenris nauseous.

"This place is disgusting! After passing this place, there's Nightshade ahead, followed by Goldshire, and then Stormwind."

Fenris said to himself, "The atmosphere here is terrible."

He lowered his head and continued to concentrate on his journey. Behind him, hundreds of wolf riders, carrying swords on their backs, marched silently under the moonlight, like a dark tide.

......

As the Horde's wolf rider vanguards approached rapidly, Stormwind City was illuminated as bright as day by torches and mages' lighting spells.

The people in the city, whether they were nobles, farmers, merchants, or priests, all gathered under the platform of Stormwind Fortress.

Alvin looked down in the light and saw a crowd of people, a dark mass of people.

Calpurnia and Alkaritasa were standing behind Alvin.

Most people looked nervous and whispered what they knew to others.

The news from outside the city had already spread like wildfire, and everyone knew that a tribal army was rushing towards the newly rebuilt city.

The good news is that everyone has witnessed how thick the walls of the new Stormwind are, but the bad news is that there are very few people in the city who can fight.

For example, at this time, there was a gathering of almost all the people in the city, but there were only a dozen soldiers at the venue to maintain order, and there were very few people responsible for security around the king.

Therefore, "when to abandon the city and escape" became a common topic among the people.

Seeing that most people had gathered, young Varian, who always had little patience, stood directly on the high platform of Stormwind Fortress. In order to see more clearly and farther, he placed a bench under his feet, and on the platform was a magical speaker that could allow the speaker's voice to spread throughout the space.

"People of Storm Kingdom!"

Little Varian was still wearing the armor that was too big for him. His loud voice, assisted by the magic speaker, instantly spread throughout the venue.

People stopped chatting and looked up at their king.

Seeing that he had attracted the attention of the crowd, Varian continued, "The Horde is coming!"

There were only four short words. When people heard them, there was silence at first, and then confusion.

Although most people had heard the rumors in advance, hearing it from the king's mouth made people nervous again.

Almost everyone in this city has relatives who died in the last war, and they understand the terrifying power of the tribe better than any other country in the alliance.

"According to my scouts' reports,"

Varian spoke loudly, suppressing the discussion among the crowd.

"A tribal wolf cavalry of about two thousand men is heading towards us!"

"Is it the Wolf Rider?!"

"It's the orcs riding giant wolves that are as big as three horses!"

"My sister was killed by that giant wolf!"

People were in a panic again, but soon, Varian's actions shocked everyone.

He struggled to draw out his greatsword, gripped the hilt tightly with both hands, swung the sword in a circle and slashed it hard at the brick in front of him. There was a huge sound of metal collision, and the sword directly cut into the wall brick.

Everyone shut up, no one wanted to provoke the king's anger at this time.

"Tribe, tribe,"

Varian whispered the name.

"My father and my people were once blasphemed by the name of this tribe. Stormwind Kingdom even fell under the iron hoof of the tribe..."

"If we talk about the harm I've suffered from the tribe, I'm no less than anyone else!"

As Varian spoke, he slapped his ill-fitting breastplate hard with his hand.

"This was my father's armor! This dent, right here, was made by an orc who struck him with his warhammer!"

"And here,"

Varian lifted his hair, and there was a shocking scar on his forehead hidden by his bangs.

"This was a seriously injured orc. Before dying, he threw me off my horse and bit me with his filthy jaws! It was Sir Anduin Lothar who saved me. He smashed the orc's head with a hammer, and his blood and brains splattered all over my head!"

"And I know—you—my people, you suffer the same pain I do!"

"Those bastards who destroyed my home and desecrated my people are back again! Are they planning to do the same to the home we just rebuilt?!"

"Stormwind will show them the true power of humanity!"

"I will hold on to this city until I crush the tribe's ambitions and drive them back to another world!"