They must not harm the Orcs, and they must also drive them away.
Is it possible to persuade them?
Captain Landon knew that the Peace Doves were mostly unrealistic guys who had no idea how cruel war was.
"Aren't you going to send me to Lordaeron to be punished?" Captain Landon asked with a wry smile.
Thule's face was serious. "You must resolve the Orcs crisis, make sure Thrall is well taken care of, and protect the Internment Camp. After that, I will send you to Lordaeron. You are a traitor to Azeroth, your crimes are unforgivable."
Captain Landon whispered, "If you want to entertain Thrall, you'd better put him at the table."
Thule remained calm. "I will make the arrangements; it would be my honor."
After the Peace Dove departed, Captain Landon fell into thought.
Thrall's strength is not great; he has less than a thousand Orcs, and the Silverpine Forest Internment Camp can easily hold out.
However, Thrall was originally King Terenas's adopted son and the future King Lordaeron.
Therefore, there is no possibility of winning this war.
Either way, it's certain death.
Captain Landon simply led his troops away and fled to the Kingdom of Gilneas.
Thule was no fool either. Upon learning of Captain Landon's escape, he first wrote a letter to King Terenas, denouncing Captain Landon as a traitor.
No sooner had the letter been sent Thule rushed to Fenris Isle for refuge.
While Thrall was still halfway there, the Guards at the Silverpine Forest Internment Camp had already disappeared.
Thrall was shocked to receive the news and hurriedly ordered his men to set up camp and remain there.
Med'an was puzzled. "The Guards fled without a fight, isn't this our opportunity? Why not go and rescue the Internment Camp?"
Thrall frowned in thought. "My lord, what will happen if I rescue these Orcs?"
Without a second thought, Med'an replied, "They will be grateful for your kindness and will obey your every command."
"No, no, that's not it at all." Thrall stroked his fangs and said, "I have too few soldiers. There are two thousand real Orcs here. If there is a leader among them, he will surely kill me."
Med'an's eyes darted around. No one wanted to be subservient to others; it was the Orcs custom that might made right.
"Thrall, what are you planning to do?"
"I've studied military strategy; provisions are the most important thing. Of these two thousand Orcs, I only plan to keep one hundred to sing praises of my achievements; the rest will all be made into Tough Jerky."
Thrall's expression was very calm, as if he were talking about a trivial matter.
Med'an paused, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and nodded, saying, "That's a good idea."
Thrall asked ingratiatingly, "My lord, is there any way to make these Orcs surrender?"
Med'an hesitated for a moment. "That's not difficult to do. Test Subject 012 can release a colorless and odorless gas that spreads through the air, causing people to feel weak all over."
Thrall was overjoyed. "This is exactly what I need!"
Med'a Portal back to Karazhan, and returned shortly thereafter, followed by an octopus-like monster with eight legs and eerie eyes covering its body.
At the Silverpine Forest Internment Camp, two thousand Orcs were freed. These Orcs were organized, and their recognized leader was an Orcs named Moyan, who claimed to be the son of Ner'zhul.
Moyan managed the two thousand Orcs very well and planned to use Silverpine Forest as his base to expand.
Upon learning of Thrall's arrival, a trusted aide said with concern:
"I heard that Thrall rescued the Durnholde internment camp, and only about four hundred Orcs survived; the rest were all killed by him."
Moyan shook his head. "Hearsay is not necessarily reliable. I intend to meet Thrall in person, as if he truly is a great hero, and I am willing to serve him as my lord."
The confidant sighed, "Thrall has become King Terenas's adopted son. This man's actions are extraordinary. If we don't make plans soon, we may be harmed by him. My advice is to avoid his advance and retreat towards Tirisfal Glades tonight. The Silver Hand is nothing but a bunch of useless trash. No one in Lordaeron can stop us."
Moyan laughed heartily, "I have two thousand soldiers, why would I fear a mere Thrall? If he is a hero, fine, but if he is a coward, I will kill him to avenge my brothers in Durnholde."
Scouts reported that Thrall had arrived with his troops, numbering less than five hundred Orcs.
Moyan led his troops to the top of the wall. The Internment Camp had high walls and thick fortifications, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack.
Humans left in haste, leaving behind many weapons and armor, which Moyan armed into an elite force.
Thrall arrived at the entrance of the Internment Camp, only to find the gates tightly shut. Displeased, he said sternly:
"I've come to rescue you, why aren't you opening the door?"
Moyan, fully armored, and carrying a Battle Axe, he looked down at Thrall.
"You are Thrall? I am the leader here, and everyone calls me Brother Demon Eye. We Orcs have always respected the strong. I wonder if you are qualified to lead my two thousand Orcs?"
"What do you want?" Thrall asked.
Moyan declared loudly, "I've heard you're the champion of the Durnholde Arena. If you can defeat me, I'll immediately pledge my allegiance to you and never break my promise."
"Naive." Thrall sneered. "Listen up, you'd better open the city gates right now, lay down your weapons, and come out naked. There's a river over there; wash yourselves clean."
Moyan were a little confused. "What are you going to do?"
"It's simple, I'm going to turn you all into Tough Jerky."
Enraged, Moyan roared, "You truly are a cruel and ruthless Orcs! I swear here and now, I will kill you to atone for the dead of Durnholde!"
Thrall said smugly, "I'm ruthless and merciless, I love killing, but what can you do to me? Fall down, you bunch of trash."
Test Subject 012 stepped forward, its eight arms moving rhythmically, and an invisible toxin permeated the Internment Camp.
All two thousand Orcs fell, too weak even to groan.
Thrall led his troops into the Internment Camp and gathered two thousand Orcs in one area.
The soldiers erected a makeshift platform, with a wooden pole beside it from which hung the mangled corpse of Moyan, clearly tortured to death.
Thrall stood on the high platform and took a deep breath.
Before him stood the resentful Orcs, a green ocean of creatures, their eyes filled with fear.
"Today!" Thrall shouted, his voice booming like Thunder thanks to Med'an's magic.
"I, Thrall, the great Savior, led the Orcs to a great victory. After a hard-fought battle, the Orcs of Silverpine Forest were saved. It is an honor that you will be turned into Tough Jerky. In Lordaeron, there are many similar Internment Camps. None of them can escape. You will gain your freedom, and at the same time, become Tough Jerky."
The Orcs before him wore expressions of despair. Thrall grinned. "I'm not so cruel after all. Come on, kowtow and praise me. Whoever kowtows the loudest and praises me the best will survive. There are only one hundred spots, so cherish them!"
The two thousand Orcs immediately sprang into action. Despite their exhaustion, they squeezed out the last ounce of their strength, kowtowing and begging for mercy while loudly praising Thrall.
Thrall calmly enjoyed the people's praise; after so many years of struggle, he had finally found his own Destiny.
"For freedom, most of you will become Tough Jerky, but it is a worthwhile sacrifice, a great Consecration. Our cause is Justice, we are invincible, we will succeed!" Thrall raised his arms and shouted, "I, Thrall, the great Savior Azeroth, the Orcs are honored by me!"
Not far away, Anachronos and four others stared at Thrall on the high platform.
"Thrall has begun his path to kingship; we can leave now with peace of mind to go to Outland, ruled by Illidan."