The golden dragon claws gave Jaina a significant advantage, and the intense Power of the Holy Light filled the small courtyard, completely dispelling Blackmoore's Shadow power, which forced him into a retreat.
Finally, Blackmoore was cornered, and Jaina raised her dragon claws to end his life.
Suddenly, darkness enveloped the surroundings, and a powerful Shadow power erupted.
Behind Blackmoore, seven dark tentacles writhed and coiled tightly around Jaina's dragon claws.
"So, you have Old Gods behind you."
Jaina was startled; it was too late to retract her dragon claws.
The tentacles carried a terrifying Corruptive Power, the Holy Light dragon claws gradually dimmed, and large patches of dragon scales fell off.
Jaina's gaze sharpened, and she twisted her shoulder forcefully. With a crisp cracking sound, her right arm, which had transformed into a dragon claw, detached from her body.
After abandoning her arm, Jaina retreated rapidly, causing the dragon claw to explode violently, the intense Power of the Holy Light blinding everyone.
Taking advantage of this rare moment, Jaina lunged at Arthas; this was her only chance to kill Arthas.
Holy Light and Shadow power raged, filling the entire courtyard. Amidst these two powerful energies, Arthas desperately protected Saldo Shallowflow, his back covered in wounds.
Faced with Jaina charging towards him, Arthas knew he could not escape and could only close his eyes and await his death.
You dare!
A deafening roar echoed through the heavens and earth, and endless darkness descended.
Jaina vaguely saw the Freeze throne, piercing the sky like a Sharp Sword. The armored figure on the throne stood up, exuding an aura of supreme authority, and pointed the greatsword in his hand at Jaina.
"Ah!"
Jaina screamed as she was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, spitting out mouthfuls of blood.
"Arthas, he's actually grown to this level."
Jaina gritted her teeth. That attack was launched by Arthas from the future, across the river of time, proving that Arthas had already unraveled the mysteries of time.
Of course, this is also related to Arthas's awakening during this period, which established the spacetime coordinates for the future Arthas.
Jaina knew there was no chance to complete the mission; she could only flee far away.
But Blackmoore had no intention of letting him go. Seven arms of the Old Gods flew behind him, and he rose into the air, enveloped in dense darkness, rushing towards Jaina at an unimaginable speed.
At the crucial moment, Jaina unleashed a powerful grab from afar Mage Hand.
Thrall had already run quite a distance and was resting in a patch of grass.
Unfortunately, he hadn't anticipated that Jaina had already targeted him. A Portal opened behind him, and a giant Frost claw pulled Thrall into Portal.
Jaina threw the captured Thrall at Blackmoore.
The arm of the Old Gods devoured Thrall, but Jaina wasn't worried. Thrall was the protagonist of this era and would never die.
Sure enough, Blackmoore stopped in his tracks. Jaina, without having time to find out why, opened Portal and fled for her life.
Just as Blackmoore was about to kill Thrall, the world suddenly changed, and he found himself in a vast desert.
The yellow sand gleamed with a golden light. Blackmoore took a deep breath; Thrall had vanished.
A giant golden Dragon, with a huge and bloated body, floated in the sky, clutching the unconscious Thrall.
"Nozdormu, the Bronze Dragonflight."
Blackmoore gasped; as a nobleman, he had long heard the Legendary of this Dragon King.
To his surprise, apart from the different colors, it was exactly the same as the black, white, and gray tricolor dragon that had saved him, suggesting there must be some connection between the two.
"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, you are a remnant of time, bury yourself in the yellow sand."
As Nozdormu's voice rang out, Gale howled, whipping up tens of thousands of tons of yellow sand.
Nozdormu, time is not in your control; I am the master of time.
Murozond appeared, his black and white dragon claws grabbing Blackmoore. When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the black, white, and gray world.
"Some people want to change history; they're really overestimating themselves." Murozond breathed a sigh of relief as the last grain of sand fell from the black Hourglass before him.
"Blackmoore, you have done well. I will send you to New World to fight for your Destiny. You are destined to be the King of Lordaeron. Remember, beware of Thrall."
When Thrall woke up, he found himself still in the grass, as if everything that had just happened was a dream.
"Orcs, I saved you."
Jaina, hiding to the side, spoke in a voice that was neither clearly male nor female.
Thrall was a very intelligent man. Although he had been forcibly taken there by this man, he had to let go of his hatred if he wanted to live.
"Great being, thank you for saving my life." Thrall hurriedly knelt on the ground.
"Do you hate it?" Jaina asked again.
Thrall was about to say he didn't hate, but then his eyes darted around and he said, "I hate, I hate that villain shrouded in darkness."
How much do you hate them?
"A hatred etched into my bones, I am irreconcilably opposed to him." Thrall gritted his teeth.
"I'm satisfied with your answer," Jaina smiled. "That person is Blackmoore; he has the help of the Old Gods, and you have a chance to seek justice from him."
"I swear I'll eat him!" Thrall shouted, secretly relieved that his gamble had paid off.
"Now I'll send you back to reunite with your people," Jaina said coldly. "Before seeking revenge, you must first learn how to become a king."
"I would like to ask for your guidance," Thrall asked honestly.
Jaina frowned; she hadn't forgotten the painful experience of Thrall eating her hand, leaving her with an indelible scar.
"Treat Orcs with malice, and treat other races with kindness, and you will be invincible," Jaina said.
Thrall, being such a wise man, agreed with the first half of the statement: treating foreign tribes well depends on the circumstances; simply put, it means being subservient to the strong and plundering and killing the weak.
"I've got it, I've got it," Thrall said with a smile.
Back at the Frostwolf Clan camp, Thrall finally breathed a sigh of relief. The abduction by Jaina had greatly affected him, making him realize that he needed to rely on a strong person.
Karazhan brought Thrall a painful childhood he couldn't bear to recall, but turning to Medivh seemed to be the only way out.
How to please Medivh became a major worry for Thrall, causing him to lose his appetite and even lose interest in torturing Orcs.
That day, the Quartermaster in charge of logistics came to see Thrall and knelt on the ground to report:
"Chief, oh no, Savior, our food supplies are all gone."
Thrall waved his hand and said, "Don't bother me. If you don't have food, go rob it."
The Quartermaster said with difficulty, "My Savior, since Durnholde was captured, all the humans around here have moved away, and we can't even find the Kobolds."
Thrall glanced at him. "Don't worry, send men to wait in the Gray Grass Cave behind Tarren Mill. Food will soon fall from the sky."
The Quartermaster was bewildered, but following Thrall's orders, dozens of Orcs rushed to Gray Grass Cave.
Gray Grass Cave isn't big; you can see right to the bottom. What kind of food could be found there?
The Orcs guarded the cave entrance. Soon, footsteps echoed from inside. The leading human Warrior spoke as he walked:
"Remember, our mission this time is to rescue the great Savior Thrall. The ambitious Lieutenant Blackmoore is plotting to use Thrall to conquer the world, and we must put an end to his ambitions."
A human Priest said, "After this mission is over, I can go home and get married."
"Why are there Orcs at the cave entrance?" a hunter in the group asked in surprise.