"Troll, Tough Jerky?"
Turalyon turned around, his golden eyes fixed on Lor'themar, and asked coldly:
Does Kael'thas have Trolls under his command?
Lor'themar was almost dumbfounded. He had always thought that Kael'thas had ambushed 50,000 adventurers, but he never expected there to be a hidden story.
In an instant, scenes from Tempest Keep flashed before my eyes, and a familiar feeling welled up in my heart.
"Thrall!" Lor'themar understood.
"Haha!" A burst of wild laughter rang out, and Thrall led a large group of Orcs to surround them.
"Lor'themar, you piece of trash, kneel down before this Savior!" Thrall roared.
Lor'themar habitually knelt on the ground and kowtowed. Thrall stepped on Lor'themar's head, stomping on it repeatedly until it was buried in the ground.
"Not bad, you've attracted a big fish. Turalyon, the Orcs' biggest problem. Too bad you're going to die here. Come on, according to the ancient Orcs tradition, let's have a perfectly fair duel: a thousand Orcs against one of you."
Thrall waved his hand, and the Orcs soldiers with ferocious faces surrounded him.
Turalyon remained unfazed, drew his golden two-handed sword from his back, and after a metallic scraping sound, he was enveloped in golden armor.
"Thrall, your death is near."
Turalyon wielded his greatsword with both hands, the tip of which emitted golden light. The sword was five or six meters long, and any Orcs that came near were cut in half at the waist.
Taking a deep breath, Turalyon took a sudden step forward, instantly covering the fifty-meter distance to stand in front of Thrall.
Thrall was terrified, never expecting Turalyon to be so formidable. He turned and ran, and just as Turalyon was about to give chase, he suddenly felt a weight on his leg.
Lor'themar lay on the ground, his face covered in blood, clinging tightly to Turalyon's leg.
"Great Savior, run!" Lor'themar roared. "For Azeroth!"
Turalyon snorted angrily, turned his sword around, and struck Lor'themar on the head with the hilt.
Lor'themar's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Taking advantage of the situation, the Orcs soldiers surrounded Turalyon. The light on Turalyon's greatsword shone brightly again, and with wide, sweeping strokes, the Orcs corpses piled up like mountains in no time.
Not far away, Brutallus, hidden in the mist, warily watched Turalyon's weapons, secretly relieved.
"Holy Light equipment, thankfully, the thousand Orcs used up the energy in the equipment, otherwise it would have been really difficult to deal with them."
Turalyon a quick stride and glided over a hundred meters again, catching up with Thrall.
Thrall was terrified, his face turned pale, and he hurriedly knelt on the ground, pleading and weeping:
"Don't kill me! I have an 80,000-year-old father and infant children crying for food."
"Aren't you Durotan's son?" Turalyon stomped on Thrall's head.
"That piece of trash Durotan isn't my father. My father is still alive. I've raised a million orphans. If I die, they'll all die."
To survive, Thrall disregarded everything.
Ignoring Thrall's pleas, Turalyon raised his sword to end his life.
Suddenly, a golden light flashed in Turalyon's eyes, and his body froze, unable to move like a statue.
Thrall seized the opportunity to break free, tumbling and scrambling, and quickly disappeared without a trace.
"Holy Light, why won't you allow me to kill Thrall?" Turalyon was furious.
The Holy Light did not answer. Rumble, the ground trembled, and Turalyon's gaze narrowed slightly. A massive Pit Lord, as large as a small mountain, appeared in the mist.
Brutallus said smugly, "Turalyon, that rat from Argus Planet, always causing trouble for the Legion, now you're going to die here."
Turalyon hurriedly drew his two-handed sword, only to see a flash of golden light on it before it went out.
The Holy Light weapon still had a small amount of energy remaining. Although it couldn't defeat Brutallus, it could still escape.
"Is there a malfunction, or has the Army of the Light abandoned me?"
Turalyon could only grip his weapon tightly; the human's size was far inferior to that of the Pit Lord, making victory impossible. He could only fight to the death for honor.
"Commander Turalyon, it's been a long time since we last met in Silvermoon City."
Kael'thas emerged from the mist, followed by a massive, Ethereal Mech.
Turalyon breathed a sigh of relief:
"Prince Kael'thas, while I was away, Azeroth has fallen into such a state of disarray."
Seeing this, Brutallus knew he couldn't kill Turalyon, so he extended a chain and hooked Lor'themar.
Kael'thas gave a wry smile:
"It's our fault. Azeroth is in chaos, with one demonic clown after another appearing. Silvermoon City has fallen to this state. It's all my fault. I misjudged Lor'themar."
Turalyon recalled the Holy Light preventing him from killing Thrall, and waved his hand, saying:
"This isn't your fault. The situation forced us to act. Eliminating a bad guy is too difficult; this era suits them."
Brutallus grinned menacingly.
"You had a choice; you could have cooperated with our Legion. But you chose the hypocritical Army of the Light. Farewell, weak heroes of Azeroth."
Kael'thas watched Brutallus leave, then asked Turalyon, "Are you going back to Shattrath City?"
Turalyon frowned. Now that he had lost the Holy Light, returning to Shattrath City would likely bring him misfortune.
The factional struggle within the Army of the Light is intense. Mother of Holy Light Xe'ra, is Turalyon's patron, while A'dal of Shattrath City is clearly on Thrall's side.
"If possible, I would like to visit the Magisters' Terrace," Turalyon said.
"Welcome." Kael'thas smiled slightly.
At the Shattered Sun Offensive Base, Lor'themar was stripped naked and hung upside down on a flagpole.
"Useless, useless, you're so incompetent, I'll beat you to death."
Thrall, holding a leather whip, lashed Lor'themar again and again, until his skin was torn and bleeding profusely. He fainted several times, only to be revived by being splashed with cold water.
Liadrin and Rommath watched helplessly as their old friend was tortured, neither daring to utter a sound.
Thrall opened his mouth and tore a large chunk of flesh from Lor'themar's shoulder, chewing it forcefully.
"You two, come up with an idea, or I'll eat him for dinner."
Liadrin and Rommath exchanged glances, drawing Turalyon in with the intention of using his reputation to lure more adventurers.
Now that Turalyon has escaped to the Magisters' Terrace, what will become of the Shattered Sun Offensive?
Rommath' eyes darted around, and he said ingratiatingly, "Great Savior, I've heard that Turalyon has lost the favor of the Holy Light."
Thrall nodded. "It must have been A'dal who stepped in and blocked Turalyon's Holy Light. This is the consequence of being an enemy of the Orcs."
Rommath shook his head and said, "Turalyon without the Holy Light is just a mortal. We can easily find a human to impersonate him."
Thrall hesitated for a moment, then tore another large chunk of flesh from Lor'themar's body and nodded:
"That's a good idea. We don't need humans; we can use Kobolds to impersonate Turalyon."
Rommath paused, stunned. "But everyone knows Turalyon is a human."
Thrall roared furiously, "I said Turalyon is Kobold, and he is Kobold! Anyone who dares to deny it, die!"
The next day, news spread throughout Azeroth that the great Savior Thrall had invited Turalyon, the Kobold hero of Stormwind City, to join the Shattered Sun Offensive.
After reading the newspaper, an argument broke out.
"Turalyon is clearly a human, how could he be Kobold?"
"The great Savior Thrall is infallible; Turalyon is Kobold."
"That's right. How could the Savior be wrong? To deny the great Savior, do you want to destroy Azeroth?"
Therefore, the people of Azeroth generally agree that Turalyon is Kobold.
Absolutely true, beyond dispute.