Thrall knew in his heart that the Dreadlords had always been known for their cunning, often using intimidation or deception to make their opponents kill each other, and then let the entire world fall under their dark influence.
Thrall thought for a moment and said: "I plan to unify the Warsong clan, and then work with the Silver Hand to clean up the people of Lordaeron, whether living or dead, so that they will be completely destroyed and never exist again."
"The Warsong Clan is a good choice, but after using the Silver Hand, we can destroy them together."
Mal'Ganis looked at Jaina, and the Dread Lord said without hesitation: "Just like this little girl, she will become your delicious food in the future, with fresh skin and delicious food. Remember, add more salt."
Jaina's face twitched, but she still smiled: "I am willing to dedicate everything to the Savior, including my body, mind and everything."
"Has been completely dominated by fear, dirty soul, humble and despicable human being."
Mal'Ganis did not hide his ridicule and continued:
"The human will to survive in Lordaeron is surprisingly strong. They must survive at all costs, even if they become the walking dead. Unfortunately, you have to destroy their last hope, whether they are hiding in the forest or hiding in hiding. From the soil or deep in the swamp, you have to dig them out, crush their bones and throw away their ashes."
"This is not enough. You have to tell all the creatures in Azeroth that the people of Lordaeron are a disaster, a plague, the mortal enemy of life, and an enemy that must be eliminated. All creatures should unite to eliminate these people. A group of innocent people, look, this is the tragic fate of the weak. Not only are they brutally slaughtered, but they are also mercilessly slandered."
"Thal, remember, the savior is a very good excuse. Treat those who are your enemies correctly. The best way is to use conspiracy, slander, coercion, etc. to turn them into the common enemy of the entire world. The goal is to defeat them one by one. By controlling the enemy's thoughts to conquer Azeroth and turning the enemy into his minions, all those who stand in our way will become meaningless."
Thrall nodded with sincerity, the Dread Lord's cunning coincided with his inner plan.
Talking about how to conquer the Warsong clan, the Dread Lord pondered for a moment:
"Grom Hellscream is a great orc warrior and is not suitable for facing him head-on. Since he likes the blood of Mannoroth so much, we will use the same method to deal with the Abyss Lords. The Abyss Lords' backs are their weak point. In order to protect themselves from enemies from behind, their backs are covered with spikes and bone plates, but it’s a pity that the orcs only have one vertebrae on their backs.”
Thrall understood what the Dread Lord was referring to and quickly said:
"Great Master, your humble servant has conquered some subordinates in the Warsong Clan. They surrendered to my fear and are willing to become enemies of Grom Hellscream, but their status and weight are far from enough."
"You need a strong boost."
Mal'Ganis handed Thrall a ring, an orc creation:
"Take this. There is a warrior in the Warsong clan. His brother has served the Burning Legion for ten thousand years and slaughtered countless worlds. This is his token. He will obey your arrangements."
"Who is this warrior?"
"Varok Saurfang, his power comes from the Burning Legion."
The Dread Lord said this.
...
Black Mist Fortress.
This is a solid fortress, made entirely of huge rocks, with black walls and a wide and deep moat surrounding it. There are many residential buildings scattered around the fortress.
Residents come and go, bustling with people, and it turns out to be an unexpected paradise, which is incompatible with Lordaeron, which is full of dead people.
Along the way, we saw many tall sentry towers. The guards were very nervous and were always observing the movements of the orcs.
Robbie and Alsace approached this area and felt that they were surrounded by surveillance.
The guards on the guard tower, the crowds coming and going, and even the children playing on the street were all staring at strangers eagerly.
The fear of the orcs and the betrayal of the Silver Hand gave the people here a feeling that all the people were at war.
I saw a lot of crops along the way, and I wonder how Baron Rivendell ensured that the crops would not be destroyed by the orcs.
Arthas and Robbie successfully entered the Black Mist Fortress, and as messengers from Lordaeron, requested to see Baron Rivendell. Now that the Palace of Lordaeron exists in name only, it is not difficult to obtain proof of the messenger.
The guard went to report, and soon the baron replied with an invitation. The two took the initiative to leave their weapons and followed the guard into the castle.
Sitting in the front seat was a burly man, about forty years old, with a dignified appearance, no helmet, and a thin face. His cheeks were covered with short beards like steel needles, which was very eye-catching. A pair of gray eyes exuded
He had a dangerous light and a strong military aura, and the pile of books beside him added a bit of elegance.
This is Baron Rivendell, with many guards standing on both sides, all watching the visitors eagerly.
"The king's messenger?"
The baron looked at the king's orders, his expression a little surprised, but he seemed to be expecting:
"Order me to commit suicide in the name of offending the orcs? Has the Holy Light given up on Lordaeron? The ridiculous justice of the Holy Light has finally come. Two noble messengers, you might as well tell me where this king's life comes from."
The baron squinted his eyes, and the guards each reached for their weapons. A dangerous aura filled the air, as if the baron was about to order the execution of the messenger at any time.
Robillo was a little nervous, while Alsace was very calm and said without being humble or arrogant:
"Uther forced the king to issue the king's order, and Uther accepted Thrall's order."
"Regent Thrall?" The Baron smiled: "I thought I would meet Thrall on the battlefield."
"I'm afraid it will be soon."
Arthas frowned and issued a warning: "Thall is integrating the orcs in the shelter and trying to cooperate with the Warsong clan in the Black Mist Wilderness. Your Excellency, Baron, you and your army and the people are in danger."
Baron Rivendell was very surprised. He stared at Alsace carefully, and his attitude gradually softened. His aggressive aura disappeared and was replaced by a warm and elegant smile.
"Two distinguished messengers, please follow me."
The baron grabbed the tobacco bag on the table, led the two of them out of the castle, and climbed onto the city wall.
Baron Rivendell chewed tobacco and looked at the residential houses not far away, as well as the large wavy crops.
"Even with tall city walls, it is still unwise to fight the orcs head-on. The siege of Lordaeron was a good example. In the first few years, whenever the Warsong clan came, I would evacuate, leaving only
Give them the next empty castle, two messengers, there is no one else here, you can tell me your purpose."
Arthas was resolute and said sincerely: "Baron, Lordaeron is finished. There is no hope. Please retreat with the soldiers and people here to leave the seeds of hope for Lordaeron."
"The seeds of Lordaeron have been planted long ago, Prince Arthas."
It turned out that the baron recognized Alsace.
"What I can do is to preserve the last bit of dignity for Lordaeron, and you are Lordaeron's hope for the future, Your Highness." (To be continued)