Thinking about this, Garrosh realized he had acted impulsively and shouldn't have hit Rhonin.
Garrosh ordered the terrified Dalaran Mages to make a ball of ice water, then picked up the dying Rhonin and poured it mercilessly on his face.
Rhonin slowly awoke, feeling excruciating pain all over his body. With difficulty, he opened his eyes. Garrosh grinned, took a bite of fresh meat, and forced a smile.
"Hehe, Rhonin, someone as smart as you should understand that I hit you all for your own good, to toughen you up and help you grow. The harder I hit you, the greater the benefit to your future. You should thank me for my encouragement."
Rhonin, weak and listless, said ingratiatingly, "Warchief, Rhonin will never forget your encouragement and will always remember your kindness."
Garrosh smiled slyly, "I knew you'd understand, Rhonin. Now I need a squad of Dalaran Mages to help me return to camp and slay the Evil Tirion Fordring."
"Tirion Fordring, what did he do wrong?" Rhonin asked in surprise.
Garrosh said viciously, "Tirion Fordring Scourge to plot the destruction of Azeroth. It's too late now; I'll explain later."
Rhonin had no idea what Garrosh was planning, and dared not disobey Garrosh's orders, so he quickly ordered a group of Dalaran Mages to follow Garrosh and obey his commands.
With the help of the Dalaran Mages, Garrosh rushed back to the camp as fast as he could, but he was too late; Tirion Fordring had already escaped.
Facing the empty flagpole, Garrosh was struck dumb, utterly despondent. He knew that if the Emissary pursued him, his chances of survival were slim.
We must leave here as soon as possible.
Garrosh hurriedly said to the Dalaran Mages beside him, "Quickly, open Portal. I need to go to Ratchet. All of this is for saving Azeroth, for the Horde!"
The entire army of 100,000 Orcs was wiped out. When the Emissary received the news, he was so angry that he almost fainted and was determined to punish Garrosh.
Unfortunately, it was too late. By the time the Emissary arrived at the allied camp, Garrosh had already left.
After carefully listening to the deserter's report, the Emissary's expression softened, and he asked, "So, the Scourge has been annihilated, Icecrown Citadel now only has three thousand Orcs?"
The deserter whispered, "We lost some in the fighting, so now we only have a little over two thousand left."
"Hmph, two thousand Orcs, what are they to fear? Arthas, your end has come."
The Emissary appeared confident, but Emissary knew that several of the Scourge's generals had yet to appear, so he dared not act rashly.
Inside the allied camp, there are still tens of thousands of Argent Crusade and Stormwind City loyalist forces, giving them an overwhelming numerical advantage and making it no problem to defeat two thousand Orcs.
The Emissary hesitated for a moment, then commanded, "Summon Tirion Fordring to me."
Just as a soldier was about to report that Tirion Fordring had escaped, a strong voice came from outside the tent. "Your Excellency, the Divine Emissary, Tirion Fordring has been waiting here for a long time."
It turned out that Tirion Fordring had only escaped from the camp and had not gone far. When he learned that the Emissary had entered the camp, he knew that his chance had come and had been hiding outside the tent waiting for orders.
The Emissary remained indifferent, making no mention of punishing Tirion Fordring, and simply nodded, saying:
"Tirion Fordring, Azeroth is facing a life-or-death crisis. Everyone must stand up and fight for this world. You must immediately lead the Allied Forces to storm Icecrown Citadel and destroy Arthas."
The Scourge was at its last gasp, with only a little over two thousand Orcs protecting Icecrown Citadel. Seeing victory within reach, Tirion Fordring was overjoyed and hurriedly said:
"My Emissary, Tirion Fordring will certainly not fail in his mission."
Although the Allied soldiers were far inferior to the Orcs in terms of physical fitness, training, and weaponry, they were overwhelmingly superior in numbers. Tirion Fordring selected 20,000 Argent Crusade and 20,000 Stormwind City loyalists to march rapidly towards Icecrown Citadel.
For some reason, Tirion Fordring was preoccupied throughout the journey, realizing that he had overlooked an important issue, but unfortunately, he couldn't recall it.
It wasn't until he arrived at Icecrown Citadel that Tirion Fordring realized the problem.
This time, the enemy is not the Scourge, but the valiant Orcs.
Orcs are the noblest race in Azeroth, a claim first made by Tirion Fordring. Although these Orcs have joined the Scourge and fought for Arthas, they are still Orcs.
Tirion Fordring was merely a lowly human; how could he dare to oppose the noble Orcs?
Eliminating two thousand Orcs is not difficult, but it will certainly give others ammunition to criticize him, subjecting him to condemnation for generations to come, and making him a great sinner in history.
Thinking of this, Tirion Fordring broke out in a cold sweat, having almost met his doom. Unfortunately, he had already boasted to the messenger of the Emissary, and Tirion Fordring was now caught in a dilemma.
Tirion Fordring's eyes darted around, and he summoned a trusted Adjutant, instructing him:
"The Scourge is plotting to destroy this world. Arthas is utterly wicked. Unfortunately, I am unwell today and unable to lead the army into battle. The task of eliminating the Scourge is entrusted to you."
The Adjutant looked worried, but still accepted the order and led the army toward Icecrown Citadel.
Tirion Fordring, with a small number of his personal guards, waited in the rear for a long time, but heard no shouts of battle. This puzzled Tirion Fordring, so he hurriedly sent his guards to inquire.
Not long after, the Adjutant leading the troops came to Tirion Fordring, weeping and wailing, and knelt down with a thud:
"Tirion Fordring, I beg you to do me justice! You always taught us that Orcs are a noble race, and how could we dare to be enemies with Orcs? Our soldiers are terrified at the sight of Orcs, filled with fear from the bottom of their hearts, and can only kneel on the ground in surrender."
Tirion Fordring slapped his forehead, realizing that something was seriously wrong.
The Argent Crusade were merely Orcs provisions; Tirion Fordring had instilled in them the noble ideals of the Orcs in them on a daily basis.
The Stormwind City army, originally very brave, had been living in the same camp as the Argent Crusade and, through constant exposure and instruction Tirion Fordring Argent Crusade, had grown to fear the Orcs just like the Argent Crusade.
Tirion Fordring had no choice but to station his army near Icecrown Citadel, besieging it without attacking. After several days, the Emissary could no longer wait and personally came to the camp to urge Tirion Fordring to surrender.
Tirion Fordring knelt before the Emissary and pleaded, "My Emissary, Orcs are a noble race. Our soldiers dare not oppose Orcs. Please understand."
The Emissary, quite troubled, asked, "Tirion Fordring, what exactly are you worried about?"
Tirion Fordring explained, "My Emissary, once we defeat the Orcs, we will set an example for all the races of Azeroth. If this precedent is set, it will seriously damage the Orcs' prestige."
The Emissary pondered for a long time, and then nodded in agreement:
"Indeed, Orcs are the noblest race in Azeroth. If you dare to oppose Orcs, for no reason whatsoever, I will grind you to dust and torment your soul forever. We must use love to redeem lost Orcs, not to annihilate them outright. But how can we redeem them? Tirion Fordring, I need your advice."
Tirion Fordring hesitated for a long time before replying, "My Emissary, only by sending a highly respected Orcs leader can we win back the Orcs who have sided with the Scourge and bring them back to the Horde. There is only one person who can meet this condition."
The Emissary remained silent for a long while, then asked unwillingly:
"You mean, I should ask Thrall to return?"