Woking couldn't speak at all.

Everyone has limitations in their vision due to their growth environment, growth experience, ethnic status and other factors.

Woking was very smart, otherwise he would not have become Thal's main think tank.

He also has his limitations. After all, he is just a chieftain of a troll clan who stands out from many primitive troll clans.

The trolls have lived a very hard life in the past 25,000 years. From the world's largest race in the distant past, to two empires spanning the entire Gukalimdo continent, they have become small clans in a quiet area.

Of course, he could not take other troll clans seriously. What really made him wary of was that what the alliance had done had been, the alliance was not a peace organization. They completely destroyed Zuo Aman in the southeast of the Everglade Forest, and Zuer Grab in the east of Stranglethorn Valley.

This corresponds to the two most glorious empires in the history of trolls, the Amani Empire and the Gurabash Empire.

Not only that, the Rotten Moss clan located in the Eastern Plagueland was also slaughtered by the Alliance.

Although there are absolutely legitimate reasons when the alliance takes action, because these clans are causing trouble behind the alliance when the world encounters major crises, this cannot conceal the alliance's decisiveness and ruthlessness.

Once again, it proves that as long as the line of justice is crossed in the heart of the Alliance, the Alliance will be devastated without mercy.

Times have changed. If the trolls were able to use human sea tactics to fight magic in the past era, now, whether it is the Alliance's terrifying hot weapons such as the Flying Fleet, or the highly developed magic network magic civilization, they are not something that mortal creatures can fight against by their physical body alone.

As soon as Thrall reminded, Wokin immediately realized that whether it was a tribe or several races that had joined the tribe, they were all in a very dangerous situation.

Wojin was discouraged: "Please guarantee? What's the bottom?"

Thrall smiled bitterly: "The guardian dragon of the Alliance and the Dragon Sleeping Temple set a plan to deal with the world-destroying Nesario, and I need to be a candidate. Do you know? Old friend, now the tribe... or orcs and other races need a righteous title. Only by obtaining this title, even if the tribe is bad in the future, it will not be defined as an evil race."

This is to compete for a gold medal for avoiding death.

Woking frowned: "Where is that tribe? Will you come back?"

When Woking asked this question, for a moment, Thrall almost rushed out and wanted to say, "I will come back." But the opposition of the Nagran Orcs and the difficulties from their compatriots... All the bitterness of the past surged into Thrall's heart.

When he thought of his outstanding contributions to the tribe for more than ten years but was forced to the palace by his tribe members, Thrall suddenly felt a little lonely. Moreover, the noble and great cause of "I want to do something for the Azeroth world" attracted Thrall even more.

Thrall finally replied: "I will think about it seriously. But this world must be after the crisis of destruction."

This is not the answer that Working wants to hear the most, it is better than nothing.

Woking turned and left, before leaving, he waved his hand: "Well, before that day comes, the Dark Spear Troll will endure it."

The noble troll leader seemed to have a little hunched back.

Thrall sighed. This time he wanted to persuade Wojin to lead the Dark Spear Troll to put the overall situation first and temporarily return to the tribe. Unfortunately, neither he nor Wojin could convince the other party.

With destruction and desolation all over his eyes, Thrall felt a bleak feeling.

Leaving the Echo Islands and coming to this land he named Durotal, Thrall finally took out a small crystal with the glory of arcane from his pocket and pinched it: "Duke, I'm fine."

A second later, a blue border portal opened, and Sar walked inside without hesitation.

The brief discomfort caused by the teleportation passed quickly, and Thrall looked around. The huge hall was not empty, but everything was very large in size.

The eyes are filled with volcanic lava and black stones, and above it is the metal creation and decoration with Titanic style.

Because this is the obsidian dragon holy land in the northwest of the Dragon Bone Wilderness, which is the old nest of the Black Dragon Clan. Ten thousand years ago, this was the place where the Black Dragon hatched the young dragon. Unfortunately, with the betrayal of the Black Dragon Clan by Nesario, only a hundred half-dragons and dragon men left here, who obeyed Onyxia, were guarding it.

The square was very large and the middle was empty. A large round table was placed in the middle of the square. A man and a woman were chatting in the middle of the square and drinking lunch.

Saar saw a warm black tea cup and a plate of cookies on the table.

Duke, wearing a robe and a human-shaped Black Dragon Princess wearing a dark red embroidered long skirt were sitting upright on a chair next to the table.

Duke nodded and smiled at Thrall's arrival: "Sar, do you want something to drink?"

Only then did Sar notice that there was a large set of tea sets on the table, which were made entirely in the size of an orc.

Thrall nodded, without losing his momentum, sat peacefully.

The long-term life experience of human life gave Thal more indifference. He had never experienced the life of the Lordaeron nobles. But because of his quietness and "taming", he was brought to the nobles' dance or tea party more than once as the champion of the slave gladiator.

Although drinking afternoon tea looks inconsistent with the rough-looking Sarr, it has a subtle sense of coordination here.

"Oh?" Onyxia turned her head in surprise.

After taking a sip of black tea, Saar put down the cup and turned the cup skillfully with his fingertips. He knew very well that the initiative in the conversation was not on his side, so he also spoke up.

"Duke, what do you think of the current tribe?" I have known each other for more than ten years and have fought side by side many times. I can't say that I am a brotherly person, at least I am a very familiar old friend. Thrall knows very well how to deal with humans.

Duke knew that lies were meaningless to a smart leader like Thal. He said the truth: "Dangerous, arrogant, arrogant. The tribe led by Garrosh is like a powder barrel, and it will explode whenever there is a chance."

"Is the powder barrel...? It's a vivid metaphor." Thrall smiled bitterly.

Once the powder keg explodes, you will definitely die. The problem is that you will also blow up people nearby. This is a typical way to harm others and yourself.

Duke raised his hand and curled his lips, as if he was a little indifferent: "Fortunately, he couldn't blow up the deck of the Alliance Battleship."

Thrall now knew the Alliance's attitude more disgusted and alert, but not afraid at all. Once he was freed up, he would clean up the current tribe at any time.
Chapter completed!