Some people are born noble and want the best of everything; Thrall is undoubtedly one of them.
For the sake of the monarch's face, his satisfaction, and his pleasure, the deaths of tens of millions of innocent people are nothing, and do not diminish the monarch's greatness in the slightest.
Brann had no choice but to order his men to disguise themselves as Ra-den.
Inside the Halls of Origination, countless colossal stone statues slumber, and Brann's Guardian must approach cautiously to destroy the core of each statue.
This process is extremely dangerous; the closer you get to the giant statue, the easier it is for the camouflage to be exposed.
With just a turn of the giant stone statue, a life is lost.
As a result, progress was extremely slow, Thrall kept yawning, growling in dissatisfaction:
"Brann, you're a piece of trash, just as incompetent as your brother. Azeroth awaits my salvation; I have no time to waste on you. If you don't hurry up, I'll twist your head off."
Brann suppressed his anger, a fawning smile on his face, and urged the team forward.
The Explorers' League paid the price of hundreds of lives to get close to the outermost Guardian leader.
This is a tall obsidian statue, the temple Guardian, Anhuur.
Once Anhuur is controlled, the hundreds of colossal statues surrounding the temple can be commanded. The colossal statues in the Halls of Origination are ancient, among the first Titan-forged, and are completely different from the colossal statues made by the Orsis People. They are powerful enough to flatten the entire Uldum.
Controlling Anhuur is extremely difficult; the Tol'vir have never succeeded. Brann personally took charge.
The base of the colossal statue is covered with densely packed Titans Runes, and the secret to controlling Anhuur lies within these Runes.
Suddenly, a voice rang in Brann's mind.
"Earthen Curse of Flesh, a fellow Titan-forged, why do you serve a savage Orcs?"
Brann was secretly surprised, but he didn't show it and continued to bury himself in studying the Runes.
"So that's the effect of the Slave Contract. You must be very unwilling, right? If you want to resist, just blink."
Although he didn't know where the mysterious voice came from, Brann immediately blinked; he had had enough of Thrall's arrogance.
"Although I cannot break the Slave Contract, I have a better way. Long ago, the Titans' creations formed alliances many times to fight against the Elemental Lords and the Old Gods. This covenant still runs in your blood. For the Titan-forged, the Titans' Pact is greater than everything else. As long as this covenant is upheld, all other covenants will become invalid."
Brann was overjoyed, but he was also puzzled, wondering where the voice came from.
"Raise your head and look at me. Anhuur, the Guardian of the temple, is willing to enter into an alliance pact with you."
Brann was secretly surprised. In his impression, the mechanical creations in the Halls of Origination were not very intelligent and could not be considered true life.
It seems that the previous understanding was wrong; at the very least, Anhuur is a truly intelligent being.
Brann bit his finger and smeared his blood on the Runes at Anhuur's feet.
Countless symbols surged from his blood, and a long string of symbols appeared before Brann's eyes, his body shimmering with golden light.
Thrall realized that his Slave Contract with Brann had broken down, and immediately fled without looking back.
Seeing that things were going badly, Vol'jin threw out another cloud of smoke and disappeared.
Brann stood up, feeling refreshed; the contract with Anhuur had been successfully completed.
The tall obsidian statue came to life, emitting a burst of intense light.
Those Orcs who stood there foolishly were immediately enveloped in light and turned to ashes.
At the same time, countless giant stone statues came to life, shaking off the dust, and the stone doors of the Halls of Origination slammed shut with a loud bang.
It must be noted that Thrall's arrogance saved him. On the way to the entrance, the core of the giant stone statues was destroyed, making it impossible to stop Thrall. Although the stone gate was tightly closed, the passage dug by Brann's men was still there.
Thrall disregarded his dignity and hurriedly squeezed into the narrow passage, desperately trying to climb out.
Vol'jin followed closely behind Thrall, the heavy footsteps of the giant stone statues echoing behind them.
Anhuur, the Guardian of the temple, spoke in a deep voice:
"I'm sorry, Earthen, according to the ancient covenant, I cannot leave the Halls of Origination. This is all I can do for you."
Brann expressed his heartfelt gratitude. "Thank you so much for your help, esteemed temple Guards. Our people will remain here until all the colossi are repaired."
Anhuur nodded and returned to statue mode.
Thrall crawled out of the tunnel, facing the blinding sunlight, and saw countless Tol'vir.
"It's over."
Thrall panicked, his legs went weak, and he was about to kneel down and beg for his life.
Vol'jin tugged at Thrall's sleeve and pointed at the Tol'vir before him, saying, "Judging by their attire, they shouldn't be Neferset or Orsis People."
Just as the two were feeling uneasy, a richly dressed Tol'vir stepped forward, carefully examining Thrall. Upon seeing Thrall's ferocious face and arrogant expression, the Tol'vir knew what was going on and quickly asked:
"May I ask if you are the great Savior Thrall?"
Thrall, bewildered, replied coldly, "I am."
The richly dressed Tol'vir hurriedly knelt on the ground. "Ramkahen, King Faoris, is willing to serve the Savior."
Ramkahen knelt down in unison. Thrall's eyes darted around; Ramkahen wouldn't have pledged allegiance without reason. Yes, it must be Ra-den's order. Thrall deliberately put on a stern face:
"I am the great Savior Thrall. Too many people in Azeroth have pledged allegiance to me, and all I need are loyal slaves."
King Faoris hurriedly knelt and took a few steps to Thrall's side. "I am willing to be your slave, Ramkahen is willing to be your slave too."
Thrall laughed heartily and produced the Slave Contract bestowed upon him by the Moon Goddess: "Very well, I'll reluctantly accept you all as slaves."
Elder Takahen of the Dark followed Thrall's footsteps and confirmed that Thrall had entered the Halls of Origination.
Scouts discovered that a large group of Ramkahen were moving towards the Halls of Origination. Takahen hesitated for a moment, but decided that eliminating Thrall was the most important thing and that it was not advisable to start a civil war with the Ramkahen at this time. So he chose to give way.
Unexpectedly, the Ramkahen attacked the Nefersets directly.
Takahen rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
He saw Thrall riding on the back of King Faoris. As the King of Tol'vir, the first and most Ramkahen, Faoris had always considered himself the noblest Tol'vir, yet now he was Thrall's mount.
Thrall, beaming with pride, said to Vol'jin, who was riding High Priest Ament, "Of all my mounts, this one is the most lowly."
Vol'jin said obsequiously, "Even the Red Dragon Queen is your mount; it is an honor for the Tol'vir."
Elder Takahen chuckled coldly, "Faoris, leave Thrall behind and take your men away. You are no match for me."
King Faoris arrogantly declared, "My army is twice your size; what do you have to fight me with?"
Takahen raised his head. "A King has lost his dignity, your soldiers are a bunch of cowards. Look at your soldiers, there is no fighting spirit in their eyes."
Faoris turned around, and just as Takahen had said, the soldiers saw only humiliation.