Sal's ferocious face stared at Mulu, who was shining brightly in the sky, his face twisted, and he squeezed out a few words from the gap between his teeth:
"M'uru must die!"
Eitrigg trembled with fear. "Savior, are you really going to harm M'uru?"
Thrall narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "To be honest, I'm also hesitant. Who can guarantee that M'uru doesn't have a few relatives and friends? As long as one Naaru steps forward, the Orcs will be in danger."
Thrall then revealed a resolute expression. "But killing M'uru would make me very happy. The Naaru are gods, and even gods must be killed for all to see. Blood Elves are not foolish Draenei. If I were to use M'uru to establish connections with the Army of the Light, I would have no choice but to kneel before Lor'themar and lick his toes."
"Anyone who opposes us Orcs deserves to die," Thrall said with a fierce look.
On the golden Heaven's Path, Countess Liadrin and Archmage Rommath led a procession of 30,000 Blood Elves in neat formations, approaching Tempest Keep.
Liadrin looked up and saw Prince Kael'thas opposite her, dressed in a golden robe. Her expression was complicated.
Everyone knows that His Highness the Prince cares deeply for the people and works tirelessly to find a way out for the Blood Elves.
But he must die if he opposes the Orcs.
Liadrin wanted to kill Kael'thas with her own hands; if she fell into Thrall's hands, she would only be eaten alive.
The two sides were only an arrow's length apart. Liadrin ordered the allied forces to halt and prepare to rest briefly before launching Charge.
Suddenly, Liadrin's heart skipped a beat, and a feeling of unease welled up inside her, as if something earth-shattering was about to happen.
Many others shared this feeling; Archmage Rommath, Prophet Voren'thal, and High Priestess Ishanah all turned around at the same time.
M'uru, who was floating high in the air, suddenly felt his light freeze.
Then, M'uru began to tremble violently, as if he were having an epileptic seizure, and quickly turned from bright to black.
"No, help! I've been Corruption!"
M'uru let out a piercing scream. Something inside his body shattered, and his body flickered violently. After his last moments of light, it became mottled and dim.
Splash!
M'uru's body began to disintegrate, and countless black powders fell from the sky. He could no longer maintain his flight form and fell from the sky.
With a loud bang, M'uru fell into the dust, like a shattered piece of chocolate.
Right below M'uru, Regent Lor'themar lay on the ground, Thrall stomping hard on his head.
Thrall sneered, "Lor'themar, Blood Elves are nothing but lowly food, not even worth as much as slaves. How dare you offend me?"
Lor'themar, bewildered, cried out in grievance, "My Lord Savior, how could I dare offend you? You must have misunderstood."
Thrall held a black staff in his hand, Corruption Scepter bestowed upon him by the Pit Lord Mannoroth, a one-time-use item developed for the Naaru by the Burning Legion.
Lor'themar bears a great deal of responsibility for M'uru's ambush by Thrall.
M'uru was focused on maintaining the Heaven's Path, Lor'themar below, upon seeing Thrall arrive, immediately knelt to greet him without issuing a timely warning.
Thrall used the Corruption Scepter on M'uru, successfully driving him to the brink of collapse.
"Misunderstand?"
Thrall snorted and kicked Lor'themar in the face repeatedly, leaving him bruised, swollen, and covered in blood.
"You think that with M'uru, the Blood Elves can replace the Orcs? Only we Orcs are the Saviors of Azeroth. The Blood Elves are nothing; trash will always be trash."
Lor'themar then realized that it was M'uru's existence that had aroused Thrall's suspicion.
"My Savior, I was wrong! Please forgive me! I'm willing to be your dog!" Lor'themar pleaded, weeping bitterly.
On the Heaven's Path, everyone was stunned to see M'uru, who had fallen to the mortal realm.
"No, no! Oh my god!"
Anticipating what was about to happen, Liadrin panicked.
The Heaven's Path flickered and shattered into countless streams of light, and the thirty thousand Blood Elves, the Aldor and Scryers of Shattrath City all fell into the bottomless Abyss.
Liadrin was floating in the air when Archmage Rommath intervened and saved her.
"My soldiers, my people, why is this happening?" Liadrin cried, her eyes red.
The Prophet Voren'thal grasped the hand of the Priestess Ishanah, Ishanah laughed until tears streamed down her face, "Voren'thal, is this the result you wanted? The Scryers and the Aldor are finished. How are we going to explain this to A'dal?"
Voren'thal's face turned ashen. He had tolerated Thrall time and time again, always hoping to get away with it, only to fall into Thrall's trap each time.
The Sha'tar Alliance and the Blood Elves of Silvermoon City suffered heavy losses, while the 50,000 Orcs of Pliers Town remained unscathed.
"Go ahead and curse me, I'm just a big fool." Voren'thal smiled bitterly, gazing at Kael'thas stood tall and elegant at the entrance of Tempest Keep.
Kael'thas was kind enough not to launch a sneak attack.
Thrall raised Doomhammer and slammed it down on Lor'themar's waist.
Lor'themar's waist was broken, Thrall grinned, preparing to grind his limbs bit by bit and then turn him into mincemeat.
Eitrigg leaned closer and whispered a few words in Thrall's ear.
Thrall nodded after hearing this, and smiled with satisfaction, "Eitrigg, you truly are my strategist. Well, Lor'themar, your life is spared for now."
Lor'themar was overjoyed and thanked him profusely, "Thank you, Great Savior, for sparing my life."
"I'm saving you on conditions," Thrall said condescendingly. "Remember, M'uru fell because the Blood Elves excessively drained Holy Light."
Lor'themar's expression hardened. The death of a Naaru from the Army of the Light was tantamount to pushing the Blood Elves into an Abyss of no return, putting them at risk of annihilation at any moment.
Unfortunately, Lor'themar had no choice but to accept it in order to survive.
"Yes, Savior, M'uru perished because of us Blood Elves."
"Very good, I will send someone to heal your injuries." Thrall smiled with satisfaction. "The Sha'tar and Silvermoon City alliance is finished. If you want to defeat Kael'thas, come find me in Pliers Town. I have a plan. Defeating Kael'thas will be a piece of cake. I swear I will devour him."
An Orcs Shaman healed Lor'themar's wounds, and with the help of the guards, Lor'themar struggled to his feet.
Rommath brought Liadrin back to his side. Thirty thousand Blood Elves had perished, and all three looked extremely grim.
"This is probably the price of joining the Horde," Lor'themar said dejectedly. "Our people are dead, and it's all Kael'thas's fault."
Liadrin could no longer contain herself and roared, "Lor'themar, how many more Blood Elves do you intend to kill?"
Lor'themar wiped the blood from his face and declared loudly, "This is a worthwhile sacrifice for the future of Silvermoon City. You must remember that M'uru's fall was because we drew too much Holy Light from him, and had nothing to do with the great Savior Thrall."
Rommath said regretfully, "Why did you have to throw this mud at us? The Army of the Light will not let us off the hook."
The three highest-ranking figures in Silvermoon City remained silent. Suddenly, M'uru weak voice came from within the dust.
"I'm still alive! Quick, save me!"
Lor'themar commanded the few remaining Blood Elf Personal Guards to pick up M'uru's shattered body from the dust and piece it back together with difficulty.
"Send me to the Sunwell," M'uru said weakly. "I still have a sliver of hope to live, otherwise you will all die."