Medivh first treated Kael'thas to a lavish dinner, then showed him the opera *The Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood *. Through these subtle hints, Medivh was pretty sure that Kael'thas was a complete fool, unaware that Kel'Thuzad had used his magic to find Medivh's weakness.
This weakness works against Medivh, and it works equally well against the Sunstrider family.
Medivh was not a merciful man; in his rage, he took his anger out on Kael'thas, subjecting him to a prolonged "entertainment."
Whenever Medivh heard Kael'thas's pitiful howls, he felt particularly refreshed, and all his gloom vanished.
But he didn't know that the Elven Prince was actually quite content.
Upon learning this news, Medivh's frustration was palpable.
Killing the Prince of Quel'Thalas was unwise. Killing Prince Arthas of Lordaeron would grant him extraordinary powers, but what would killing Kael'thas yield? The ability to seduce women?
Medivh decided to win Kael'thas over and make him his henchman, so he ordered his steward to put the poor Prince down.
"Kael'thas, I can release you, but you must promise to deal with Kel'Thuzad."
The Elven Prince was getting dressed, but upon hearing that he was going to fight Kel'Thuzad, he quickly took his clothes off.
"Kel'Thuzad, I don't think I can beat him. You might as well just tie me up. I'm having a good time anyway. The food in Karazhan is pretty good, and we have everything except women."
Medivh was furious; his knuckles turned white as he gripped his staff. How could he have encountered such an unreliable oddball?
"Kel'Thuzad is severely injured. You will meet your human lover in Andorhal. Although your powers are both countered by him, you only need to use your brains in battle, such as utilizing the power of the Knights of the Silver Hand."
"Aren't you using me as bait?"
Kael'thas wasn't stupid, but his wisdom didn't lie in that area:
"Nothing really happened between Jaina and me. When our relationship finally reached a point where it could progress further, I realized she had grown up and was no longer my type. Humans grow up so fast; it catches you off guard."
So you only like young girls.
"No, I now prefer voluptuous mature women; the Elven Prince's tastes are always changing."
Kael'thas grinned, revealing a set of neat teeth.
I have no interest in discussing your perverse tastes.
Medivh roared, "Killing Kel'Thuzad, I can forgive and forget!"
The Elven Prince muttered to himself, "Your tastes are much more extreme than mine. You've actually managed to get a child out of a female Half-Orcs from Outland. With that burly physique and pungent body odor, how can I bring myself to eat her?"
"I can handle Kel'Thuzad, and to thank you for your hospitality these past few days, I feel I should say something."
Suddenly, the Elven Prince's eyes shone with wisdom; the wisdom accumulated over hundreds of years of life experience finally flashed into his mind at this moment.
"Medivh, the Orcs can treat King Terenas this way, and they can do this to the innocent humans of Lordaeron. One day, they will do the same to you. If they find fault with you, you will suffer the same fate as the Red Dragon Queen, forced to lay dragon Dragon Eggs for the Orcs. The Guardians are protected by Azeroth, but the Orcs are outsiders."
"My affairs are none of your concern, Elven Prince. Mind your own business and that of your people."
Medivh's voice was cold, perhaps because something had touched a nerve; the Guardian had become particularly prone to anger.
"I don't know why you did this," Kael'thas shook his head, guessing, "But it must be related to the Burning Legion. Haha, even the seemingly glamorous Guardian has his own helplessness."
Before Medivh could unleash his fury, the reckless Kael'thas hastily fled from his sight.
Blackmist Fortress.
Upon learning that the High Elves had joined the war, Baron Rivendare knew that the fortress could not be defended.
The Elf ranger's superb archery skills proved the city walls far too inadequate.
Although the Baron and his Legion were prepared to fight to the death, he would not recklessly throw his life away. He led his troops to withdraw from Blackmist Fortress and retreat to his own base, Stratholme.
When Stratholme was first built, the Trolls of the north and the High Elves of Quel'Thalas were taken into account, and corresponding defensive measures were constructed. It is probably the last fortress of Lordaeron.
Thrall and his Orcs immediately occupied Blackmist Fortress.
The next day, a rumbling sound shook the earth, and the Warsong Clan arrived at the fortress at the invitation of the authorities.
On the open ground in front of the fortress, two groups of Orcs faced off.
The larger force consisted of the Orcs from the Internment Camp led by Thrall. Under King Terenas's continuous feeding, they had devoured the people of Lordaeron. This group of Orcs was majestic and strong, with each member possessing excellent weapons and equipment.
The smaller group consisted of the Warsong Clan, who persisted in fighting in the Wilderness. Due to years of lack of food and clothing, the Warsong Clan Orcs were generally emaciated, their equipment tattered, and they had almost no decent armor.
But they possess an even stronger fighting spirit, like an arrow about to be released from a bow.
Grom Hellscream stood before the Warsong Clan's ranks. This strong old Orcs had a gaunt face, and his eyes gleamed with Bloodlust red light. Thick black hair cascaded down his back, black tattoos adorned his chin, a collar of white bones adorned his neck, and he carried the terrifying Battle Axe, Gorehowl, in his hand.
Witnessing the legendary Orcs leader, Grom Hellscream, firsthand filled Thrall with an intense sense of oppression.
Thinking that he had made a thorough plan, Thrall felt reassured. He picked up the Doomhammer, put on the Orgrimmar armor, walked to the front of the battle formation, and stared at Grommash Hellscream.
"Orgrimmar was hung on the flagpole by you, you little thing?" Grommash Hellscream demanded, raising his Battle Axe with one hand.
At the foot of a small hill not far away, inside a long-abandoned house.
Arthas and Robbie hid in the attic.
"Are you crazy, Robbie? There are so many Orcs. If they find us, we'll be torn to shreds," Arthas said anxiously.
Robbie took out two engineering telescopes and handed one to Arthas:
"Don't forget Baron Rivendare taught us, Prince Highness: at this distance, the Orcs can't catch us, not even Grom Hellscream."
"Well, even though I know it's safe, it still makes me a little uneasy." Arthas fiddled with his binoculars, aiming at the center of the two teams, focusing on Grom Hellscream.
Baron Rivendare has admitted that he is no match for Grommash Hellscream in a one-on-one fight.
"We must understand our opponents—their character, their beliefs, their fighting style, and how they cope when faced with dire situations." Robbie lowered his voice and said seriously, "Whoever wins the chieftainship today will be our mortal enemy in the future."
"What a pity, such a great Orcs hero is destined to fall here today."
Arthas sighed.
The Restless Souls had already told him everything: the Elf rangers hiding on the city walls, the Order of the Silver Hand lying in ambush nearby—these were all trump cards Thrall had prepared in advance. Grom Hellscream would likely find it difficult to win.
And then there's Saurfang the Great, who stands behind Grommash Hellscream remains his Adjutant.