Cut off my way home? You'll sacrifice the entire other world in return!

The wind blows across the Kalimdor plains.

This is the home of the orcs, the most vast and pristine land on the continent.

But today, the grasslands are no longer as tranquil as they used to be.

The air was thick with tension, and even the wind carried a bloody smell.

Millions of orcs gathered in the heart of the plains, at Warsong Fortress.

They had tall orc warriors, wolf riders riding dire wolves, and shamans wielding totem poles.

They did not hide like the dwarves, nor did they try to make peace like the elves.

They chose the only way the orcs knew to face their enemies.

fighting.

On the highest watchtower of Warsong Fortress.

An elderly orc stood facing the wind.

He is very old.

The green skin was covered with wrinkles and scars.

He carried a huge battle sword on his back.

He is the legend of the orcs, the last swordsman, Grom Hellscream.

An old monster who has lived for five hundred years is also the only one who has ever killed a dragon with a mortal body.

"He's here."

Grom squinted and looked into the distance.

Darkness is spreading there.

The army of the undead.

The ground forces consisted of countless zombies and skeletons interspersed with skeletal tanks modified by dwarves.

The sky was covered by dark, frost-covered bone dragons and banshee archers, obscuring the sun.

"Great Chief."

A young orc warrior walked up behind Grom, his voice trembling.

"Are we really going to fight?"

"Humans, elves, dwarves, and dragons have all lost."

"Can we...win?"

Grom did not turn around.

He simply asked, "Sarl, are you afraid of dying?"

The young orc named Thrall paused for a moment, then straightened his chest.

"Fear not! Orcs will never be slaves!"

"That settles it."

Grom smiled.

"We orcs are born to fight, and die for honor."

Whether we win or not is not important.

"What matters is how we die."

"Is it better to kneel down and beg for mercy like a coward, or to die on the front lines like a true warrior?"

Sal remained silent.

His eyes reddened as he looked at Grom's aged yet upright back.

He got it.

This battle is not about victory.

It's for glory.

It was for the last vestige of dignity for the orcs.

"Go," Grom said, "beat the war drums."

"Tell all the orcs to take up their weapons."

"Today is a good day to die in battle."

Thrall gave Grom a standard orc salute and then turned and left.

soon.

Boom!Boom!Boom!

The deep, powerful sound of war drums resounded throughout the entire grassland.

That was the orcs' war song.

Millions of orcs raised their weapons and roared deafeningly.

"Loktar ogar!" (For the tribe!)

"For glory!"

Ahead of the undead army.

Li Fan sat atop the head of an ice bone dragon, watching the scene unfold with great interest.

"interesting."

"These green-skinned barbarians are much more courageous than the previous races."

"Knowing it's suicide, they still make such a fuss about it."

"Owner."

Eric flew to Li Fan's side. He had now fully adapted to the body of the Dragonborn Death Knight, and the wings of light on his back flapped, radiating a terrifying pressure.

"Should I lead the charge?"

"No rush."

Li Fan waved his hand.

"Let them finish their performance first."

"It's rare to find an opponent with such backbone."

"Give them some respect."

The war drums beat more and more urgently.

A person slowly walked out from the orc camp.

It was none other than the Sword Saint Grom.

He walked towards the undead army, shirtless, revealing his strong muscles and scars.

An invisible aura emanated from him.

That was sword intent pure to the extreme.

"Demon King Li Fan".

Grom stopped a hundred meters away from the undead army.

He looked up at the black figure atop the skull dragon head.

"I am the Sword Saint of the Orcs."

"I'm issuing a challenge to you."

"One-on-one".

Li Fan raised an eyebrow.

"Another one-on-one challenge?"

"Do you natives all think you can beat me in a one-on-one fight?"

"No."

Grom shook his head.

"I know I can't beat you."

"Your power has transcended the boundaries of this world."

"I just want to know just how strong you really are."

"I also want you to know that we orcs are not insects that can be crushed at will."

Grom slowly drew the battle sword from his back.

hum.

The blade emitted a soft hum.

A gust of wind spread outwards from him.

His aura reached its peak at that moment.

"interesting."

Li Fan jumped down from the top of the bone dragon's head.

He walked up to Grom.

"You are the second person I've met since I came into this world who I find somewhat interesting."

"The first one was Eric, but unfortunately he wasn't very bright."

I hope you won't let me down.

"bring it on."

Li Fan held up one finger to Grom.

"I'll let you make the first move."

Grom didn't waste any words.

He moved.

There were no fancy moves or dazzling magic.

There's only one step.

With one step, his figure vanished instantly.

The next second he appeared in front of Li Fan.

The sword in his hand was aimed straight at Li Fan's neck.

It's almost at its limit.

This strike even tore through space, emitting a piercing shriek.

This was the strongest strike he had ever achieved through a lifetime of swordsmanship.

"Swift Step ~ Blade Storm".

Countless sword lights erupted at the same time.

A dense, impenetrable death tornado completely enveloped Li Fan.

Each blade of light was enough to cleave a mountain range.

All the orcs in the orc camp held their breath.

Hope ignited in their eyes as they gazed at the raging storm of sword light.

Maybe…….....

Perhaps the Great Chieftain can win?

The storm of sword flashes lasted for a full minute.

As the last glint of light faded away.

Grom reappeared.

He stood there, still in the posture of wielding his knife, panting heavily.

This move exhausted all his strength.

And opposite him.

Li Fan remained standing there unharmed.

Even the edges of the clothes weren't torn.

He held up two fingers.

A blade was held between his fingers.

That's Grom's battle sword.

During that fierce attack, Li Fan caught the tip of his knife with just two fingers.

"good."

Li Fan nodded.

"Speed ​​and power are both decent."

"Much stronger than that dwarf king."

Click.

Li Fan applied slight pressure with his fingers.

The legendary sword that had been with Grom for five hundred years shattered upon impact.

Grom's pupils contracted.

He looked at the broken hilt of the knife in his hand and a bitter smile appeared on his face.

"So... this is what the difference is?"

"You're not even qualified to use your third finger..."

He lost.

"Your performance is over."

Li Fan looked at him with a hint of approval in his eyes.

"As a tribute to your courage."

"I'll give you a quick death."

Li Fan raised his right hand.

make a fist.

Then he threw a seemingly ordinary punch.