Khadgar and his three companions gradually returned.
"Thrall is not in Durnholde," Khadgar stated confidently. "I bribed an officer to obtain the roster, and there is no Orcs gladiator named Thrall in the Castle."
Durotan said in a deep, muffled voice, "I used the Ancestral Spirit to communicate with the Orcs, and none of the imprisoned Orcs were named Thrall. There must be some mistake."
Mar'gok stroked his chin and said, "I used a little trick to get to see Blackmoore. He loves alcohol, and we Ogres have a way of making it more palatable. Blackmoore was quite drunk, and I assure you he's telling the truth. He doesn't have an adopted son named Thrall."
Anachronos's eyes darted around, then he glared angrily at Velen: "Velen, don't tell me you didn't do anything?"
Velen stammered, "I heard that the Orcs here are being forced into labor; they're suffering terribly."
"The Draenei were eaten by the Orcs fared even worse." Anachronos was displeased. "Well, I've heard rumors that Thrall was raised by Medivh. Khadgar, you were in Karazhan, have you heard anything about that?"
Khadgar shook his head. "Medivh doesn't trust me, and my area of operation in Karazhan is very limited."
"This is indeed a difficult problem," Anachronos said. "It seems we can only wait and see. I have some bad news for you: Jaina has arrived."
"Jaina?" Khadgar quickly pulled his hood up to cover his face and looked around.
Anachronos said, "She's no longer here; she's probably resting. It's certain she's from the future, Jaina. I don't know what her purpose is."
Everyone fell silent, lost in thought. Khadgar suddenly asked, "Where is Prince Arthas at this time?"
"Jaina came for Arthas?" Anachronos exclaimed. "Does she want to become the Lich King?"
Lordaeron.
King Terenas was shirtless, hanging from the flagpole beside his throne.
Orgrim Doomhammer a whip and lashed the old King with all his might. Terenas fainted several times, only to be revived by being doused with cold water, forced to endure this inhuman torture.
The Peace Dove was founded eight years ago, and poor King Terenas was tormented for eight years.
"You're a real old piece of trash," Orgrim roared viciously. "What, you still won't release the Orcs from the Internment Camp?"
Terenas said weakly, "Please give me some time to persuade Medivh."
"That's what you said eight years ago." Orgrim bit into Terenas' shoulder, tearing off a large chunk of flesh and chewing it. "You want to destroy Azeroth, Terenas?"
"I dare not, please spare me!" Terenas cried bitterly.
"Then go and beg Medivh, kneel on the ground and plead, bang your head against the ground until your skull cracks. You're nothing but trash; your only value is serving the Orcs."
Exhausted from the fight, Orgrim glanced contemptuously at the obsequious Uther, then casually grabbed a young Paladin beside Uther and bit off his neck.
"Now you can heal your King, Uther." Orgrim wolfed down his food, blood streaming from his mouth. "I hope he lives forever; tormenting this wretch is one of my few pleasures."
Uther knelt on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly. "Great Orgrim, the Silver Hand is willing to serve you."
Orgrim discarded the young Paladin's mangled body and swaggered out of the Throne Room.
Uther immediately ordered his men to untie King Terenas and personally used the Holy Light to heal him.
Terenas stared blankly at the ceiling, muttering, "When will this ever end?"
Uther's gaze sharpened. "Once you release the Orcs from the Internment Camp, it will all be over."
"Yes, it's all over. Orgrim won't torture me; he'll just eat me, and all the people of Lordaeron." Terenas wasn't stupid; he understood the disastrous consequences of releasing the Orcs from the Internment Camp. "I don't want to die. Although I've suffered greatly, I'm still a King, and history will remember my deeds."
"Your achievement?" Uther scoffed. "Because you established the Internment Camp, failed to wipe out the Orcs, and left behind a seed of trouble."
Terenas said unhappily, "Don't you know that Orcs are kind and benevolent? Although Orgrim tormented me, it was only because the power of the Burning Legion within him had not yet dissipated. I believe that one day, the Orcs will realize their mistakes and fight to save Azeroth."
"Very well, you're right, Your King." Uther sneered, Terenas could only numb himself with self-deception.
"How's the matter I asked you to do going?" The Holy Light worked very well; Terenas' injuries were healed, but she had no strength left in her body.
Uther nodded. "Just as you predicted, Sir Chris of Stormwind City led his men into Durnholde to protest, only to be fed to the Orcs by Blackmoore."
Terenas revealed a smug look. "Years of planning have finally paid off. Sir Chris is no ordinary man; he's the younger brother of one of Varian's favorite lovers and has a very close relationship with Varian. With that, Varian has no choice but to stand on our side."
"Use Varian against Blackmoore?" Uther shook his head. "Stormwind City is too far from Hillsbrad Foothills; it's out of their reach. I've heard the Defias Brotherhood causing quite a stir. Varian probably doesn't have the energy to avenge Sir Chris."
"It's impossible to get Varian to send troops," Terenas said shrewdly. "Send a letter to Stormwind City immediately, reminding him to ask Medivh for help."
Medivh's relationship with Varian's father, King Llane, was unusual. Uther suddenly realized, "The fact that Lordaeron and Stormwind City have joined forces to denounce Durnholde will definitely attract Medivh's attention. Blackmoore's good days are over."
Terenas sneered, "Blackmoore dares to enslave noble Orcs, he must die, and I will make sure he leaves behind an eternal infamy."
After Uther left, Terenas collapsed alone on his throne.
A faint, ethereal female voice drifted through the Throne Room.
"A pitiful King; who could have known that the wise and decisive Terenas was merely a pathetic wretch tormented by the Orcs."
"Who is it, guard?"
Terenas struggled to his feet and grabbed the sword on the armrest.
"Save your breath, you foolish old thing, no one can hear your cries for help." A beautiful figure appeared, it was Jaina, hovering in mid-air, like a noble deity.
Upon seeing that they were human, Terenas immediately gained confidence. "I am the great Terenas, Lord of Lordaeron, I..."
Bang!
Terenas slammed heavily onto the throne, Jaina chuckled easily:
"Orcs can torture you, so can I, and I have even more methods Orgrim. Want to try?"
"I am the King, ah!"
Terenas let out a terrible scream, but strangely, there were no wounds on his body.
"I will tear your soul apart piece by piece, and then piece it back together," Jaina threatened coldly. "Orgrim can only torment your body; I have a way to ensure your soul never finds peace."
Terenas yielded and whispered, "What do you want, my throne?"
"Where is Prince Arthas?" Jaina asked with a mysterious smile.