The Orcs attacked Ramkahen from the north. Although King Faoris took away a large number of elite troops, the Tol'vir were tall and strong, and even women and children could easily kill the Orcs.
Unfortunately, Ra-den's entry into the war extinguished Ramkahen's will to resist. This great being, revered by the Tol'vir and like a god, caused everyone's confidence to collapse when he personally slaughtered the Tol'vir.
Countless people cried out and screamed, instinctively scattering and fleeing.
Unfortunately, Ramkahen's geographical location is quite awkward, situated at the confluence of two rivers and surrounded by water on three sides.
King Faoris, standing atop the dam, gazed into the distance and saw countless people on the opposite bank running to the lake, their expressions so helpless, only to be brutally murdered by the Orcs charging from behind. The waters of Vernal were stained red with blood, and the corpses piled up like mountains.
The Orcs had a clear division of labor, leaving a few Orcs to process the corpses, turning them into Tough Jerky, and even the marrow was not spared.
King Faoris clearly felt immense excitement; an unnatural flush rose to his face, and he murmured to himself:
"Azeroth is cruel, slaughtering race after race through Thrall's hands. We all know it, but no one dares to say it. Behold, this carnage, beautiful as Feast, the most perfect performance in the world. I wish this moment could last forever."
King Faoris raised his forelegs, supporting his body only on his two strong hind legs, and began to dance.
Amid the wails and cries of the people of Ramkahen, Faoris's dance steps grew faster and faster, until finally he supported his body on one leg and spun rapidly like a top.
White mist spewed from his mouth and nose, his eyes grew brighter and brighter, and the mountains of corpses and rivers of blood became the perfect accompaniment to the excited roars of the Orcs and the painful screams and wails of the people.
Finally, all was quiet, and King Faoris brought the performance to a close with impeccable court etiquette.
"Your King, we must leave," High Priest Ament whispered.
King Faoris wiped the sweat from his brow. "Thrall's target is Orgrimmar. Ra-den hates the Mogu the most. They won't covet the barren Uldum and will leave soon. We just need to hide for a while, and we will be the final victors."
Under the cover of night, King Faoris led thousands of soldiers Guards the dikes away quietly and entered the desolate desert.
The massacre lasted all night, and by sunrise, not a single Tol'vir was left alive in the entire city.
The mountain of Tough Jerky made Thrall grin from ear to ear. King Faoris's palace treasury yielded a large quantity of weapons and armor, enough to arm an army of 100,000.
War and plunder are the Orcs' means of survival, but Thrall is not satisfied with that.
"Our goal is the Throne of the Four Winds, to enslave Al'Akir the Wind Rider. Ra-den, do you have a plan?"
The Throne of the Four Winds floats in the clouds; even if Orcs grew wings, they couldn't fly that high.
Ra-den's body was surrounded by hundreds of Void Orb filled with the souls of the Tol'vir. He glanced at the Orcs in the city, shook his head, and said, "The number is far from enough. We need at least fifty thousand Orcs."
"Fifty thousand?" Thrall was slightly taken aback. "Ra-den, what do you need fifty thousand Orcs for?"
Ra-den sneered, "To defeat an Elemental Lords, one needs either a massive and sturdy body like mine, or mastery of profound magic. No matter how many Orcs are, it's useless. Therefore, we can only pray for reinforcements."
"Where did these reinforcements come from?" Thrall asked, puzzled.
Ra-den pointed to the sky and said in awe:
"The Void, I've dealt with Void Creatures for many years, exchanging Tol'vir souls for Void power. Unfortunately, Tol'vir souls are becoming increasingly worthless. If I had Orcs souls, they would surely pique the Void's interest."
The Void universe is infinite and boundless; even Void Lords cannot bring all Void forces under their control.
Thrall pondered silently, unaware that Ra-den was communicating with that Void power; perhaps even he himself was unaware.
"So you need fifty thousand Orcs to be sacrifices to the Void? That's absolutely impossible! I am Orcs, and I cannot sacrifice my people. Do you think I am the foolish and cruel King Faoris?"
Vol'jin, standing nearby, chuckled inwardly. How could a figure as great as Thrall care about the lives of his people?
If King Faoris's heart was made of stone, Thrall didn't even have a heart; truly, "Originally there was nothing, so where can dust settle?"
Ra-den smiled slightly and said, "Thrall, you should understand that great things don't concern themselves with trifles. For our great cause, some sacrifices are worthwhile. As long as I bring in a Void reinforcement, enslaving Al'Akir Wind Rider will be a piece of cake."
Thrall clenched his teeth, feigning heartache, and after a long silence, sighed and said:
"Countless Orcs have sacrificed their lives to save Azeroth, so a few more sacrifices won't matter. Very well, as you say, I will immediately order the Caverns of Time to send fifty thousand Orcs. It's all for Azeroth."
The Caverns of Time sent 50,000 Orcs, Thrall commanded Orcs to demolish most of Ramkahen's buildings and construct a pyramid-shaped Void Altar in the city center.
Once everything was ready, Orcs 50,000 Orcs who were to be sacrificed gathered near the Altar, unaware of what was about to happen.
Ra-den ascended the Void Altar, licked his lips, and said:
"I feel especially excited every time I make the offering, as if I can see an endless wheat field, the full ears of wheat gleaming with golden light, and my heart is filled with the joy of a bountiful harvest."
Thrall gazed at the dark mass of Orcs and declared with fervor, "This moment will be etched in history! I have once again saved Azeroth!"
Ra-den raised his hands, shouting, "The Abyss is beneath my feet! Only the Void can save us! Void, open your eyes and gaze upon this world!"
At the top of the Altar, dark Void energy converged, forming a terrifying vertical eye that stared down upon the world.
Come, savor this delicious soul.
Ra-den's hand suddenly slammed down, and the massive hand covering half the city grabbed thousands of Orcs. A flash of Lightning streaked across the ground, and charred Orcs corpses rained down, leaving only pure souls in Ra-den's palm.
The Orcs were stunned with fear and fled in terror.
A mist enveloped Ramkahen, Orcs ran around like headless flies, unable to escape the Altar area. They fought each other, resulting in countless deaths and injuries, creating utter chaos.
"I can smell the delicious soul."
A majestic voice emanated from the vertical eye. "Ra-den, perhaps we can cooperate further. Your world is like a farm; autumn has arrived, the crops are ripe, and countless souls await harvest."
Ra-den frowned slightly, pondered for a moment, and then asked, "So what will I get in return?"
"This farm is not yours yet. I will help you drive out the farm's owner, and you will be crowned king."
Ra-den shook his head. "No, I just want to get out of this cage."
"If you wish, we must first lock onto the coordinates of this world. I will send some Void Cartographer; you need to protect them. This is the prerequisite for our cooperation."
Ra-den chuckled and said, "No one in Azeroth can rival me. I look forward to this collaboration."