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Grommash\'s war club descended in a lethal arc, but Gralnok moved with astonishing speed, his scimitar flashing in a deadly counterstrike.

The blade found its mark, slicing deep into Grommash\'s left arm. Pain seared through him, but he barely flinched, his rage driving him forward.

Before he could recover, the elite Hobgoblins struck from the other side, the swords biting into Grommash\'s right arm. Blood flowed freely, staining his armor and the ground beneath him. His grip on the war club faltered for a moment, the weight of his injuries slowing him down.

"General!" the Orcs screamed at the sight of their leader under attack. The enemy general was swift, too fast for Grommash\'s war club, and the skilled elite Hobgoblins were hindering his movements.

"Don\'t worry about me!" General Grommash bellowed, his voice thunderous. "This is nothing!"

Gralnok and his soldiers pressed their advantage, their scimitars a blur of lethal precision.

Grommash and his troops fought back fiercely, but the dual wounds on his arms hindered his movements. He swung his war club with less force, each strike becoming more labored as blood loss and pain took their toll.

Even in this dire situation, Grommash\'s spirit remained unbroken. He roared, his eyes burning with fury. With a Herculean effort, he swung his war club in a wide arc, forcing Gralnok and his guard to step back.

But the damage was done — his arms were severely wounded, and his strength was waning.

"Looks like you\'re reaching your limit, Orc," Gralnok taunted, licking the blood off his blade with a sinister grin.

General Grommash didn\'t flinch; instead, a smirk spread across his face. "You mean this little wound?" he growled, his voice dripping with mockery. "You\'ll need to do better than that to take me down, Hobgoblin."

He hefted his massive war club, its spikes glinting ominously. "I\'ve faced worse and still stood tall. Now, come at me with everything you\'ve got, or I\'ll show you what true strength looks like! Nothing like the puny power you hold."

Gralnok\'s lips curled into a snarl, his anger boiling over. "You . . . all of you are always looking down on us Hobgoblins! You think we\'re weak, but you\'ll soon learn the true strength of our kind.

By the time you\'re rotting in hell, you\'ll know just how powerful we really are!"

His eyes burned with fury as he brandished his scimitars, preparing for a fierce attack. "I\'ll make sure you remember this lesson for eternity, Orc!"

Gralnok\'s rage reached its peak, and he unleashed his ultimate skill [Whirlwind of the Wraith]. With a surge of dark energy, his speed doubled, turning him into a blur of motion.

Grommash barely had time to react before Gralnok attacked from all directions, his scimitars slicing through the air, couldn\'t be seen by the naked eye. It was as if a storm of blades had erupted around the Orc general, each strike leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

Grommash\'s tough skin, which had withstood countless battles, now bore deep, searing cuts. Blood splattered everywhere, painting the ground with a grim testament to the ferocity of the Hobgoblin\'s assault.

The Orcs roared in unison, their cries echoing across the battlefield for their general. They watched in horror and rage as their formidable general was enveloped by the whirlwind of steel.

They wanted to help but they were pushed back by the Hobgoblins troops.

Grommash gritted his teeth against the pain, his muscles straining as he struggled to keep up with the attacks.

Yet, even amidst the flurry of blades and blood, there was no fear in Grommash\'s eyes — only a smiled of being able to enjoy a fight. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. Peace made him dull and grumpy.

He swung his massive war club with all his might, aiming to break through the cyclone of death that surrounded him, but Grommash\'s attacks couldn\'t keep up with the speed of Gralnok\'s strikes.

"Looks like General Grommash is having a hard time, General Frukin," reported an Orc to the shaman General.

Frukin remained unperturbed, her eyes closed as she continued to weave her spell under a large magic circle. "I see no problem there."

"General?"

"Do you know what title Grommash holds?"

"The Barbarian?"

"That\'s right. He possesses a unique skill that grows stronger when the odds are against him."

"Really?"

"You haven\'t seen how General Grommash fights since it had been a long time, so you don\'t know. But I assure you, he\'ll be fine," Frukin said, her voice groggy with age. "Now, stop wasting time and focus on protecting me. If an enemy assassin ambushes me while I\'m vulnerable, I\'ll take you all to the grave."

"Y-yes!"

True to General Frukin\'s words, Gralnok believed he was winning the fight. But when he felt a light scratch to his face, Gralnok was sent reeling back from the force.

"W-what the?!" Gralnok was baffled. Grommash hadn\'t even used his weapon, yet he was thrown back.

Gralnok looked at Grommash and saw a fierce red aura enveloping the Orc general.

"I told you . . ." General Grommash growled, smoke rising from his mouth and body as he grew larger, his eyes turning a fiery red. "Your attacks mean nothing against me. The more damage I take, the stronger I become!"

General Grommash\'s unique skill had been activated, [Rage of the Barbarian].

Gralnok\'s eyes bulged in disbelief. He knew Orcs were tough, but this was beyond comprehension. Why were Orcs bred to be so overwhelmingly strong? Why where they one of the weakest?! It didn\'t make any sense unless the universe wanted them to submit in a life of oppression!

Gralnok\'s war cry resonated with the desperation in his heart as he rushed at Grommash with all his might. He needed to increase his speed and avoid being hit, in that way he would win!

Unleashing his skill [Whirlwind Fury], Gralnok doubled his speed, attacking Grommash from all directions. It was a whirlwind of blades that sliced through Grommash\'s skin, spraying blood everywhere.

The Orcs roared in concern of their general, but their was nothing they could do as they were lock in their own combat.

Grommash, fueled by his [Rage] skill, became an unstoppable force. He swung his war club with a powerful, earth-shattering blow, smashing the ground and sending everyone within a hundred-meter radius flying, including Gralnok.