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

Kilrogg opened his mouth wide, as if shocked by Grandma Gaia's words.

The orc took two steps back before he regained his balance. He pointed his one arm at the forest and roared.

"Look at what's happening outside! It's completely desolate, with cracked ground everywhere! Draenor is doomed! This is a place of certain death!"

"And Ner'zhul can open a space portal! Just like Gul'dan did before, he will lead the orcs out of this damn place. We will have many other homes, Grandma Gaiaan, and the same goes for you. You will have a world that belongs only to you! It's for you and your patients!"

"Haha, you still have the nerve to say..."

Grandmother Gaiaan did not get angry but laughed.

"Draenor has become what it is now, isn't it because of the vicious magic pollution caused by those stupid Shadow Council warlocks you mentioned? And here,"

Grandmother Gaia stamped her feet, stirring up a cloud of dust.

"This is my hometown. Even if it becomes like this, I still like it here."

"But this is a dying world!"

"It's just a part of it,"

Grandmother Gaiaan shook her head.

"I know. The wind told me that part of Draenor will collapse, but Nagrand will not. I will lead my people back to Nagrand, back to that vibrant and green place."

"Your people?"

"My people, we are pure-blooded orcs who have never drunk that filthy blood. Our name is now—Mag'har!"

"Hahahaha, Mag'har, what a pure-blooded orc,"

Kilrogg pointed at the door and shouted, "Look at how fragile pureblood orcs are! An infectious disease brought down all of you sickly people?!"

He pulled away the door curtain, revealing the inside of the room.

The ground was littered with weak brown-skinned orcs. These guys were tortured by illness and were almost thinner than the green-skinned orcs.

"Yes, we will get sick, and we might even die from it, but life and death are part of nature. At least we haven't been contaminated by your filthy black blood."

Grandmother Gaia laughed at her, "But we are not like you. At least we are not missing any limbs. As long as we are cured, we can still be good warriors."

Kilrogg laughed.

"That's exactly what I wanted to say. Your warriors are not missing any limbs, they are just weak. Now, have them stand up, take up their weapons, and come with me to the Dark Temple!"

Grandmother Gaiaan laughed in silence.

"You want me and the others to accompany you to the battlefield and die?"

She pointed with her hand and said, "Go ahead, try and see if you can pull them up from the ground and put weapons in their hands so they can fight."

Kilrogg looked at the female orc angrily. He could no longer bear his contempt for Grandmother Gaiaan. He forced himself not to think about her words anymore, but pulled down the curtain and went into the room.

The one-eyed orc stretched out his hand and wanted to pull up a lying Mag'har, but when he was about to touch the sick guy on the ground, he didn't dare to do it anymore.

He found that the guy was curled up with a face full of pain. There were many yellow pustules on his brown skin, with small white spots on the pustules. Some of the pustules had burst and were oozing white and green pus.

"How is this going?!"

"It's a rash."

Grandmother Gaiaan also came in and asked her men to apply herbal medicine on the healed rash.

"Weak brown skin! Bah!"

Kilrogg spat and withdrew his hand. He continued to move forward, trying to see if anyone could stand up.

Until he saw a young orc, who was supporting his weak body and applying medicine to other orcs. The rash on his body seemed to have subsided a lot. It seemed that his illness had improved a lot and he could get up to take care of others.

"Hey there, stand up and let me see you!"

Kilrogg shouted to the orc, and the young orc turned around when he heard the shout.

The one-eyed beastman was shocked. He could hardly believe his eyes. He knew this young man.

"Uncle Kilrogg? Why are you here?"

The young man, not yet fully recovered, stumbled to the side of Kilrogg and Grandmother Gaiaan.

"Are you here to help Grandmother? Or...is the tribe nearby? I...ouch..."

The young man groaned in pain while speaking. He just got up after recovering a little. His body was in so much pain that he was covered in cold sweat.

"Lie down! Garrosh, I warned you that the most important thing for you now is to take care of yourself, not to try to take care of others."

Grandmother Gaiaan helped Garrosh sit down and touched him directly with her hands, as if she was not worried about being infected, or she was not afraid at all.

The young orc gasped and looked at Kilrogg in front of him.

Kilrogg knew Garrosh, and he knew his father, Grom Hellscream, even better. That powerful orc was once a sharp knife of the Horde. He was unruly, but very powerful. He was a headache for Ner'zhul, but also an indispensable fighting force for the chief.

Unfortunately, he failed in his attack on Nethergarde and was captured by the Alliance. His life or death is now unknown.

"Garrosh... I, I..."

Saying that you are here to conscript men to go to the front line? How can you be so shameless? Kilrogg stammered,

"I came here to seek healing from Grandmother Gaiaan! Look!"

He raised the arm hanging around his neck to prove that he was telling the truth.

"This is the warrior you're looking for. What are you going to do?"

Grandmother Gaiaan sneered, looking at Kilrogg with her somewhat gray eyes.

The one-eyed orc felt uncomfortable being stared at. He took a few steps back, not daring to look into Grandmother Gaiaan's eyes, let alone Garrosh's. He was afraid that the young man would ask about his father...

"No, these are not warriors at all. They... they are just patients. My injuries are almost healed, and I have to leave now! You..."

Kilrogg stared at Grandmother Gaiaan, Garrosh, the sick people in the village, and the people who cared for them. He wanted to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth.

"You guys should take good care of yourselves and leave this damn place as soon as possible. If you want to go to Nagrand, then go now! This place may soon become a battlefield..."

He suddenly raised his voice, like a roar,

"The only thing you guys can do is survive! Survive for the tribe!"

After he finished speaking, he immediately turned around, walked out of the house, picked up his battle axe with his one arm, and left with his remaining warriors.

But where can I go now?

Kilrogg was confused. With these remnants of the defeated army, they would only be a burden to Ner'zhul even if they went to the Black Temple. Ner'zhul had abandoned his former brothers one by one like chess pieces, leaving them to fend for themselves. What good could come of him going there?

Now that he has done his best, Kilrogg does not feel that he owes Ner'zhul anything. It would be better for him to find a place to hide with these people.

Those alliances seemed to know that this world was going to be destroyed, and their only target was Ner'zhul. As long as they defeated him, he would definitely leave and return to their world.

By then, these people will become powerful again, and maybe one day they will be able to take back Hellfire Citadel!

The more Kilrogg thought about it, the more excited he became, and even the pain in his injured arm became much less.

"Boss, where are we going now? The Dark Temple?"

His adjutant asked,

Kilrogg smiled.

"No, let's go west first, then north to Gorgrond."