When Varian was young, Stormwind was conquered by the orcs, and the entire kingdom was under their iron heel. Regent Anduin Lothar took Varian and fled to the Kingdom of Lordaeron.
At that time, the young Varian met Uther the Lightbringer.
Uther was thought to be a great Paladin, but a series of disastrous decisions led to a generation of young men in Lordaeron being fed to the Orcs.
Many people have doubts about Uther's leadership abilities, but he is blessed by the Holy Light, is the representative of the Holy Light, and holds an extraordinary position; the opinions of others cannot shake his position.
Varian vividly remembered the night the Orcs surrounded Lordaeron. Everyone believed that Lordaeron was doomed; it was the closest humanity had ever come to destruction.
While everyone else was feeling dejected, only Uther was beaming and smiling broadly.
Uther stood atop the walls of Lordaeron, pointing to the endless Orcs Camps below, and smugly confided his thoughts to the young Varian:
"Only the Orcs are the great race, the hope of Azeroth. Humans are merely the afterglow of the setting sun. I made the right choice to feed them to the Orcs."
Varian still vividly remembers that, in the flickering firelight, Uther's smug expression clearly revealed him to be that of a Demons.
The fact that the great "Lightbringer" Uther was an accomplice of the Orcs had a significant impact on Varian.
In the days that followed, Varian's repeated fear, compromises, concerns, and cowardice when facing Orcs were all related to this conversation.
He was unaware of how many Orcs allies were hidden among the humans.
"Uther?" Varian recalled the boy's shadow, and after the initial surprise, he sneered, "What, you crawled out of the Abyss of hell just to rescue Thrall?"
Uther glared at Varian: "The Orcs have saved Azeroth time and time again. Thrall is so kind and compassionate. You shouldn't treat him like this. You are destroying Azeroth."
Varian chuckled and said, "Is that so, Uther? Your time is long gone. Perhaps you'd rather replace Thrall and be torn to pieces and eaten by him."
Uther roared furiously, "Shut up! I will not allow you to slander the great Savior like this! The kindness of the Orcs is well known, even if you are King Varian!"
Varian shook his head and said, "Too bad, Uther, this isn't your place to call the shots."
Uther smiled faintly and said confidently in a low voice, "What if we add them to the mix?"
A rumbling sound came from the earth, and an elite cavalry force appeared on the horizon. Although there were only a thousand riders, they were all tall, well-equipped, and exuded a strong aura of Holy Light.
"The Order of the Silver Hand." Varian gasped.
When facing Orcs, the Order of the Silver Hand served as their rations.
But during the human civil war, this fearsome knightly order was undoubtedly the strongest elite force in history. Countless civilians of Lordaeron perished under the iron hooves of the Silver Hand; it was a nightmare for Lordaeron.
Not only Uther, but the long-destroyed Order of the Silver Hand have also returned from hell.
The three Dragon Kings watching looked grave and increasingly uneasy. Jaina stopped eating and drinking, her eyes darting around, while Kalecgos hid under the table.
Uther waved his hand triumphantly and said:
"Varian, you should know that I sent an entire generation of young men from Lordaeron to the Orcs as food supplies. The population exceeds one million, and now they are all loyal to me. Although I only brought a thousand elite troops, killing your twenty thousand soldiers will be a piece of cake. What do you have to fight me with?"
Varian was trembling with fear. He knew all too well the strength of the Order of the Silver Hand and was already considering retreating.
The Emerald Nightmare, within the palace floating above Mount Hyjal.
A voice rang out. "Uther and the Silver Hand have returned from hell. This is clearly the work of the Shadowlands. The boundary between life and death has been broken. Is Azeroth truly doomed?"
Another voice said, "Hope hasn't been lost, but it's not enough. I need to probe further."
At this moment, Robbie and Vanessa are guests in the Emerald Nightmare Palace, listening to the conversation between two shadowy figures hidden in the darkness.
The identities of these two are easy to guess: Deathwing and Xavius. Their true forms are not here, but they are keeping a close watch on Varian at all times.
Robbie calmly stated, "The Order of the Silver Hand are not difficult to deal with. They have a weakness; once we eliminate them, we can probe further."
A sudden voice rang out behind Varian; it was unclear which soldier it belonged to.
"Uther the Lightbringer, I remember it was Saurfang the Great who beheaded you."
Uther, furious, glared and shouted:
"Nonsense, a blatant lie! Everyone knows I was ambushed and killed by the treacherous Lich King Arthas. Who's spreading this rumor? Step forward if you dare."
The voice rang out again. "Uther, Saurfang the Great is right behind you. Your chance to prove your courage has arrived. What will you choose?"
Uther was terrified and quickly turned around. He saw a group of Orcs wolf riders charging towards him from not far away. There were only about fifty riders, and the leader was a very young man who looked very much like Saurfang.
The young Orcs, riding a black war wolf and brandishing his Battle Axe, roared, "Die, you insignificant Silver Hand, you worthless trash!"
The War Wolves were incredibly fast, and the fifty riders quickly charged into the Order of the Silver Hand's battle formation. Although the Order of the Silver Hand numbered a full thousand, they were instinctively afraid of the Orcs and dared not engage them in battle. The soldiers' first thought was to flee.
The fifty war wolves roared in unison, startling the Silver Hand's horses, which bolted and threw off their riders. The Silver Hand's armor was too heavy, and without horses, they could not escape and were quickly slaughtered.
The young Orcs reached Uther in a few steps. Uther was so frightened that his limbs went weak, and the warhammer in his hand, heavier than a thousand pounds, was powerless to resist. He could only kneel on the ground and plead:
"Don't kill me, spare me!"
The Red Dragon Queen whispered, "It's the Scourge."
These fifty wolf riders were new Undead created from the souls and bodies of Orcs, teleported by Robbie from Icecrown Citadel, with the aim of helping Varian escape the siege.
"Uther, who sent you?" With the Silver Hand destroyed, Varian regained his confidence and threatened loudly.
Uther opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
His face suddenly contorted, his eyes bulged out, and he gripped his neck tightly. Soon after, he collapsed to the ground, no longer breathing.
As Uther fell, the dead Silver Hand soldiers, along with their fallen horses, weapons, and armor, all turned into a cloud of black mist and vanished without a trace.
"What terrifying power this is!" Varian exclaimed in astonishment.
"That's strange!"
Robbie was very puzzled when he saw this.
Judging from Archimonde's brief resurrection and the return of the Order of the Silver Hand led by Uther, the mastermind behind it is most likely the Shadowlands, which govern the souls of the dead.
But why kill Uther outright, preventing him from speaking?
Could there be a hidden secret within?