Thrall knew that the only way to defeat Drek'Thar was through a sneak attack.
A sneak attack may not be honorable, but it is definitely the most effective.
Drek'Thar initially underestimated Thrall, assuming he was merely an admirer who had come out of curiosity, and was completely unsuspecting.
"Ah!
Drek'Thar screamed as Thrall gouged out his eyes.
Then, Thrall nimbly jumped away and hid behind a large tree.
The elements let out terrifying howls, and rubble bursting with Flames shot out all around, turning Drek'Thar into a sea of fire.
Drek'Thar went berserk, casting spells relentlessly until he finally calmed down, panting heavily, blood streaming from his empty eyes.
He was probably in a daze due to excessive blood loss.
Thrall laughed, stepped forward, punched Drek'Thar to the ground, and rubbed his face against the ground.
"Old man, I'll learn all your Shaman magic in two days. I swear by the Burning Legion, I'll spare your life, as long as you behave."
Thrall doesn't believe in friendship or mentorship in this world; he sees only naked exploitation and manipulation.
The fastest way to learn Shaman magic is to cripple Drek'Thar.
"You won't make me submit. The dignity of Orcs cannot be trampled upon," Drek'Thar groaned.
Thrall grinned maliciously, "Old man, you probably don't know my methods. I grew up in Durnholde, specializing in torturing disobedient Orcs. I'm Mastery all kinds of cruel tortures. You'd better be tough enough so I can have more fun."
In fact, Thrall's torture techniques were learned from Orgrim, and he, having been a victim himself, was deeply impressed by them.
Before the first torture was even over, Drek'Thar had already given in, but Thrall showed no sign of stopping.
After a full week of torment, Drek'Thar was no longer the same person he was. His once tall and strong body had withered like that of a child, and if it weren't for the elemental protection, he would have gone mad long ago.
Under this terrible torment, Drek'Thar told Thrall everything he knew, revealing all the Shaman magic he possessed.
The Burning Legion's influence on Thrall's magical heart allowed him to quickly grasp these Shaman spells and even surpass his master's abilities.
Having thoroughly drained Drek'Thar, Thrall felt a significant increase in his own strength and now needed to gain experience in actual combat.
Carrying the Gnome- like Drek'Thar, Thrall arrived at the Frostwolf Clan's village.
The Frostwolf Clan, who live in seclusion in the Alterac Mountains, number in the hundreds. They live in the dense forest, rely on hunting for a living, and rarely leave the forest.
Fortunately, the Frostwolf Clan from Draenor World adapted well to the new environment and showed no signs of acclimatization problems.
Thrall had just stepped into the settlement when a huge Frostwolf Clan pounced on him.
The Frostwolf Clan has forged a deep friendship with the Frostwolf Clan over generations.
This Frostwolf Clan, named Snow Spirit, belonged to Drek'Thar, but Drek'Thar did not take it with him when he went to see the Dreadlords of the Burning Legion.
Snow Spirit, as large as an ox, saw her master's tragic end and pounced on him without hesitation.
Thrall was no longer an ordinary man; a bolt of Lightning shot from between his hands, and Snow Spirit collapsed to the ground with a mournful cry.
Thrall stepped forward, grabbed Snow Spirit's upper and lower jaws, and tore its head in two.
Hearing Snow Spirit Ling's dying screams, the village's Frostwolf Clan over a hundred, all gathered around.
Thrall grinned, knowing exactly how to deal with these beasts.
More than a hundred strong Frostwolf Clan were enough to tear him to pieces, but even beasts have fears. Thrall took the initiative and Lightning Bolt at the nearest Frostwolf Clan.
Thrall charged forward, and just as he had torn apart the Snow Spirits, the Frostwolf Clan, as expected, were terrified and scattered in all directions.
"It's clear the Frostwolf Clan lived a peaceful and Tranquility life under your rule," Thrall said, his face contorted with rage. "I declare that their comfortable life is over. They will struggle to survive under my cruel oppression, living a humiliating existence like dogs, enduring a truly miserable existence."
"You're a Demons," Drek'Thar said weakly.
"Do you think I've never seen Demons?" Thrall recalled his brief encounter at the Burning Legion base. "Demons treat their own kind kindly, but I won't."
Near the Frostwolf Clan village, Thrall took a deep breath and, following Drek'Thar's instructions, cast Earthquake on the cluster of houses.
Rumble.
The earth trembled violently, houses shook, walls cracked, and all the Orcs came out, men and women alike, carrying weapons such as wooden sticks and hoes.
"Who are you?" a tall Orcs asked.
Thrall saw fear in his eyes, especially when he saw Drek'Thar being held in Thrall's hands and tortured beyond recognition, which caused panic among everyone.
"I am the new leader of the Frostwolf Clan. You are all my slaves, lowly trash. Kneel down and greet your noble master."
Seeing everyone hesitate, Thrall mercilessly unleashed his Chain Lightning, and swarms of Orcs fell, the air filled with the smell of burning flesh.
A few hundred Orcs were enough to kill Thrall, but unfortunately they were not united; some were afraid and were the first to kneel down.
With such an example, more Orcs knelt down and submitted to Thrall's tyranny.
In Karazhan, Thrall had the privilege of seeing Medivh's research notes on the Orcs.
If you treat Orcs kindly and as old friends, they will soon turn on you and devour you, leaving not even bones behind.
If you cruelly torture Orcs, kill them at will, make them wish they were dead, and trample on their dignity, you might actually gain their loyalty.
Thrall said expressionlessly, "I'm in a good mood today, so I won't cause any more bloodshed. A third of you will die. I'll count to ten; if less than a third are dead, I'll kill you all. One, two, three."
A bloody battle broke out. The Orcs did not hesitate to raise their weapons against those around them. After Thrall counted to ten, about half of the Orcs lay dead in pools of blood.
Thrall leaped up and killed five more Orcs before stopping, feeling exhausted.
"You have performed well, you lowly slaves. From now on, you will toil under my leadership and fight for me until you die of exhaustion and battle. Your only purpose in life is to be loyal to me. Remember, you are nothing."
That night, Varimathras came to the Frostwolf Clan to see how his children were behaving.
Varimathras remembered his last visit to the Frostwolf Clan; the Orcs had gathered around the campfire, making a noisy party, singing joyful songs, and boasting Legendary their past glories.
This time, the village was deathly still.
A wooden pole stood at the entrance, with an Orcs impaled on it, its blood congealed and black.
Judging from the expression on its face, the Orcs had been pierced through the body and struggled for a long time before dying in agony.
Upon entering the settlement, Varimathras saw adults and children kneeling on the ground, kowtowing vigorously and Thrall, their heads bleeding but they dared not stop.
Thrall's cruelty exceeded expectations, Varimathras smiled with satisfaction.
"You've trained them very well."
Thrall gave a fawning smile and waved his hand, saying, "Just a bunch of useless trash. At least they can give me some amusement."
Varimathras saw numbness in the eyes of these Orcs:
"Very well, it's time to introduce you to Orgrim. Reputation isn't built in a day; you'll need his help."