Dranosh, the commander-in-chief, fell without a sound. Even more strangely, the soldiers who rushed forward first inexplicably fell into weakness.
This greatly shocked the Orcs soldiers, who all gasped in surprise, and most wisely stopped in their tracks.
Orcs are brave, but not Recklessness. When their commander's fate is unknown, the wise soldiers choose to wait and see.
"Dranosh is so easily defeated."
Thrall was stunned, but at the same time realized that this was a golden opportunity.
If Thrall were to step forward and rally his troops, he could bring Dranosh's 20,000 soldiers under his command and take control of this main Orcs Legion.
Thrall, with a serious expression, was about to take action when suddenly a cold wind blew by, and a familiar scent wafted over.
A gigantic shadow floated in the air; it was Varimathras, the Dreadlord. This Demons with curved demonic horns roared with scorn:
"These Orcs who pride themselves on being brave are nothing but a bunch of Imp. Dranosh, you have disappointed me greatly. I thought this was going to be a fun game, but you have proven yourself utterly pathetic. Come, Orcs soldiers, you will bear the consequences of your commander's mistakes."
Dozens of Catapults loaded with Plague appeared on the cliff, and the Royal Apothecary Society of Undercity commanded Forsaken soldiers to hurl barrels of Plague at the Horde camp.
"Impossible, why would the Royal Apothecary Society be here?"
Rhonin looked up, feeling utterly bewildered.
Dranosh built outposts on the cliff and sent out a large number of scouts to patrol the area. How could he have let such a large force approach without any warning?
Rhonin suddenly remembered the source of magic he had previously discovered and realized that it did not belong to the Scourge, but was the source of Fel of the Burning Legion.
The Legion used Fel energy to teleport the Royal Apothecary Society to the vicinity.
Buckets of green Plague rained down from the sky, and countless Orcs fell Plague.
The Orcs soldiers scattered and fled in chaos. Looking around, Rhonin saw that Duke Bolvar's armor was shining with a golden light, blocking the invasion of the Plague.
The Duke remained unfazed, carrying his sword as he searched for his target. He spotted King Varian with Thrall and other Horde leaders, and shook his head in disappointment.
The mages of Dalaran activated Magic Shields to protect everyone, and the Duke frowned, forced to give up.
"Who is the Duke's target? Is it Thrall, or..."
Rhonin looked at the anxious King Varian.
"Quickly, quickly, retreat, get out of here!" Thrall shouted anxiously.
Rhonin opened Portal to Dalaran, Thrall rushed Portal first, followed by Eitrigg and other Orcs generals.
"Save me! Don't abandon me! I don't want to die!"
Varian turned pale with fright and rushed toward the Portal, only to be pushed aside by the powerful Orcs, stumbling and falling to the ground.
Varian clung tightly to a thick Orcs's leg, refusing to let go, and was dragged into the Portal, where he was successfully rescued.
Only Vol'jin remained unperturbed, and the Dalaran Mages's protective shield could hold for a while longer.
Vol'jin was pondering something: the Burning Legion and the Orcs were like family, so why would Varimathras attack the Orcs?
Varimathras's targeting of Dranosh appears to be a purposeful act of personal revenge.
Vol'jin recalled some rumors: Legendary both Varimathras and Dranosh had feelings for Agna, the most beautiful woman among the Orcs, and that Agna was playing both sides, seemingly keeping Varimathras as a backup option.
That's interesting!
Vol'jin figured out the reason and couldn't help but find it somewhat amusing.
Is this what they mean by "beauty is a curse"?
He caught a glimpse of Dranosh lying on the ground, unable to move, but his chest was still rising and falling slightly.
Dranosh was quite lucky; he fell within Magic Shield and was unaffected by the Plague.
Vol'jin's eyes darted around, and he stepped forward, grabbed Dranosh's right foot, and dragged him into the Portal.
The deaths of 20,000 soldiers in Dranosh symbolize the failure of the Alliance and Horde's joint campaign against Northrend.
Varimathras seized the opportunity to occupy Undercity, while Sylvanas led a small number of her loyal followers to Orgrimmar for refuge.
Of course, the people of Azeroth were unaware of this defeat.
In the writings of Big Candle Gagg and others, it was depicted as a glorious victory, Thrall, the Savior, shattering the Wrathgate with a single punch and saving Azeroth once again.
Duke Bolvar is described as a heinous scoundrel who was reportedly beaten to a pulp by the brave King Varian.
The people of Kingdom of Stormwind were filled with righteous indignation, and the streets and alleys were filled with insults directed at Duke Bolvar.
Faced with the defeats of his two young generals, Garrosh and Dranosh, Thrall had every reason to fly into a rage, loudly berating Garrosh as an Imp and Dranosh as incompetent.
Vol'jin knew why Thrall was angry.
The defeats of Garrosh and Dranosh are a cause for celebration for Thrall.
But Varimathras's sudden attack on the Orcs left Thrall bewildered. Without the Burning Legion's support, what would become of the Orcs?
Vol'jin knew his chance had come and advised Thrall:
"Great Savior, look who I have brought!"
Upon seeing Dranosh, who was bound tightly and looked listless, Thrall angrily exclaimed, "Vol'jin, are you deliberately trying to antagonize me? Why did you save this piece of trash?"
Vol'jin lowered his voice and said mysteriously:
"I've heard that Saurfang the Great's wealth is nearly depleted, the Saurfang Family is finished, and they no longer have the ability to compete for the Warchiefship. But Dranosh is extremely useful to us; with him, we can regain the support of the Burning Legion."
Thrall's eyes lit up, Vol'jin leaned closer and whispered in Thrall's ear:
"As long as we torture Dranosh in the most cruel way, we can gain Varimathras's favor. Saurfang the Great, heh heh, just a piece of trash, no need to worry about his feelings."
Thrall grinned sinisterly, "Very good, just what I wanted."
Upon learning that 20,000 soldiers had perished at the Wrathgate, Saurfang the Great was greatly alarmed and rushed to Dalaran.
Outside Thrall's room, Saurfang the Great heard his son's screams growing louder and louder.
Saurfang stood at the door for a long time, his vision blurring and he nearly fainted. Touching his white beard, Saurfang the Great realized that he had grown old.
"Fortunately, I have over a hundred sons."
Saurfang consoled himself with this thought as he turned and left.
From that moment on, Saurfang the Great abandoned his ambition to compete with Thrall for the Warchiefship.
For a full thirty days, I endured relentless torment day and night.
Dranosh's once towering body was reduced to less than thirty pounds, yet he still clung to his last breath.
Thrall placed Dranosh's remains into a jar and sent it to Undercity, where it was handed over to Varimathras.
Varimathras was very satisfied with Thrall's performance. He personally extracted Dranosh's soul, sealed it in Soulstone, and kept it as his trophy, burning it with black Flames day and night.
"Undercity belongs to the Horde."
Varimathras said this to the messenger:
"I can return Undercity to the Horde, but I need a small condition: 100,000 delicious souls."