"Join? Want a piece of the pie?" Sylvanas asked, puzzled.
For Thrall, the adventurers of the Shattered Sun Offensive were a large chunk of Tough Jerky; for the Burning Legion, they were a vast quantity of souls.
Alleria shook her head, her eyes sparkling:
You can have them all.
Sylvanas lowered her head, her long, gray hair falling down, lost in thought. After a long while, she finally said:
"My dear sister, you asked me to expose Thrall's plot and let them know they're going to be turned into Tough Jerky." Sylvanas smiled helplessly, "Unfortunately, I can't do it."
"Why?" Alleria asked, puzzled.
"Do you know how stubborn the living can be? Even if you present the evidence to them, they won't believe it. Foolishness is the synonym for adventurers." Sylvanas smiled. "Don't forget, your Turalyon is still on the Magisters' Terrace. If Thrall is pushed to the limit and actually orders the Shattered Sun Offensive to attack the Magisters' Terrace, you'll be committing murder against your husband."
Alleria fell silent. Changing deeply ingrained ideas is difficult, especially since there's a saying in Azeroth: being eaten by Orcs is an honor.
The situation was far too favorable for Thrall; even a god couldn't make adventurers suddenly realize their mistake.
Alleria, knowing her sister well, shrugged helplessly and said:
"My sister, I've been away from Azeroth for too long. I'll do as you wish, and I'm willing to fully cooperate."
Sylvanas smiled victoriously, stepped forward, and looked into her sister's eyes:
"So, my sister, what is your purpose in doing this?"
Alleria did not answer; a point of Holy Light gathered at her fingertips.
Sylvanas understood instantly and whispered, "Naru A'dal?"
Alleria sighed and said, "I cannot overthrow A'dal's rule in Outland, I only want him to spare my husband and me. A part of the soul of the Shattered Sun Offensive belongs to the Army of the Light."
Sylvanas smiled approvingly, "Good plan. If the Shattered Sun Offensive is destroyed, A'dal will gain nothing, and he will certainly be condemned by the Army of the Light."
Quel'Thalas Island: A total of 650,000 adventurers joined the Shattered Sun Offensive.
At the base of the Shattered Sun Offensive, adventurers' tents stretched endlessly, divided into hundreds of groups based on race, inevitably leading to conflicts between them.
With Thrall's covert support, the Orcs from Outland gained the upper hand.
To manage these 650,000 adventurers, Thrall chose a leader from the Orcs of Outland, and Kasrakel from the Dark Scar Clans was selected.
Kasrakel led the Outland Orcs on patrols of the camp every day, and the first thing he did was order the adventurers to lay down their weapons.
It's important to know that adventurers bring their own equipment and weapons, often purchasing them at high prices after selling their family fortunes.
Kasrakel, citing the need for unified equipment management, forced adventurers to hand over their armor and weapons, with violators to be turned into Tough Jerky.
The rebellious adventurers were quickly and brutally suppressed; their bodies were hung on wooden poles, their flesh stripped away, leaving only bare white bones.
Despite the large number of adventurers, they were fragmented and unable to unite, and in the end, all the adventurers laid down their weapons.
Afterwards, Kasrakel received orders from Thrall to build one hundred large warehouses.
The adventurers were puzzled; they had joined the Shattered Sun Offensive with burning passion, solely to destroy the Evil Kael'thas.
Who could have imagined being treated so unfairly?
However, this did not extinguish the adventurers' enthusiasm; in less than three days, one hundred large warehouses were completed.
"What a bunch of idiots! Don't they know these warehouses are for storing Tough Jerky?"
Thrall looked down on foolish adventurers, considering them a bunch of brainless trash, and his next move was to send them to Moonscar Valley to be turned into Tough Jerky.
The Magisters' Terrace.
Kael'thas was fully aware of what had happened at Shattered Sun Offensive, and based on previous examples, he could guess Thrall's purpose.
"What should I do?" Kael'thas asked, his brow furrowed in worry.
Robbie, Krasus, Turalyon, and all of Kael'thas's generals fell into thought.
Krasus remained indifferent. "Actually, this has nothing to do with us. Thrall likes to prey on adventurers, so let him do it."
Kael'thas's four advisors, the astrologer Capernian, raised her beautiful eyebrows:
"You're wrong. Thrall will definitely pin the adventurers' deaths on us."
Turalyon touched his nose and smiled wryly:
"If we expose Thrall's plot to the adventurers, let alone whether they'll believe us, what if Thrall changes his mind and 650,000 adventurers come to attack? What should the Magisters' Terrace do then?"
The Magisters' Terrace is caught in a dilemma.
Robbie suddenly pointed out, "Aside from these 650,000 adventurers, the Shattered Sun Offensive's strength isn't that great."
Kael'thas's eyes lit up upon hearing this. The Shattered Sun Offensive, primarily composed of Scryers and Aldor, had suffered heavy losses in the Battle of Tempest Keep.
Then there was Thrall's Orcs army, which consisted of only a thousand Troll Chef and three thousand Orcs guards led by Eitrigg.
There are fewer than three thousand Blood Elves in Silvermoon City.
The Burning Legion may seem powerful, but most of its members are scholars and technicians who hide deep within the Sunwell and never venture out.
The Magisters' Terrace can take the initiative.
Kael'thas pulled out a map and pointed to the location of Moonscar Valley:
"Let's start here."
Six hundred and fifty thousand adventurers entered Moonscar Valley, ready to be inspected by the great Savior Thrall.
Under the blazing sun, Moonscar Valley was stiflingly hot and stuffy, like a steamer.
The adventurers waited from morning until noon, their legs were practically giving way.
Kasrakel led the Outland Orcs in maintaining Order, claiming that the great Savior Thrall was extremely busy and everyone needed to be patient.
At the hottest time of the day, the adventurers were drenched in sweat and extremely irritable. Suddenly, green Runes began to flash on the ground, and a green mist enveloped Moonscar Valley.
Everyone felt a sudden dizziness and fell to the ground in disarray.
Thrall, Lor'themar appeared at the top of the cliff.
Lor'themar wiped the sweat from his brow and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Finally, we're rid of that bunch of incompetent good-for-nothings."
With 650,000 adventurers, the daily food consumption is astronomical, and Silvermoon City is about to be overwhelmed.
Thrall glanced at Lor'themar: "Lor'themar, are you upset that I didn't attack the Magisters' Terrace?"
Lor'themar, filled with fear and trepidation, hurriedly knelt on the ground. "I dare not."
Thrall coldly replied, "Your vision is too short-sighted. The Magisters' Terrace is a trap, and I will use it to bury all adventurers of Azeroth. This is just the beginning."
Lor'themar quickly praised, "Your Savior is wise and powerful, with unparalleled intelligence. I am far inferior to you."
A thousand Troll Chefs entered Moonscar Valley, intending to turn the adventurers into Tough Jerky.
Thrall stroked his chin and said, "A thousand Chefs are still too few. Fortunately, the adventurer only fainted and won't rot or spoil."
The Troll Chef plunged his knife into an adventurer's body, and the adventurer suddenly opened his eyes and let out a terrified scream.
"What are you doing? What's going on?"
More and more adventurers awoke, and gazing upon the thousand hideous Troll Chefs, one adventurer shouted:
"It's a conspiracy; they want to turn us all into Tough Jerky."
"That's right, it's a conspiracy, we've all been fooled."
"Who's on the cliff? Oh God, why would our merciful Savior want to harm us? Why is this happening?"