A massive army of 100,000 marched along the Path of Glory, stretching as far as the eye could see.
Nazgrel, somewhat uneasy, asked respectfully, "Eitrigg, I heard that Habudash has escaped. Is Kargath reliable?"
Eitrigg slapped him across the face, roaring angrily, "You actually didn't believe me? After Habudash escaped, I sent someone to negotiate with Kargath, and that fool Kargath fell for it and agreed to help us deal with Magtheridon."
Nazgrel covered his face, too aggrieved to utter a sound.
The army of 100,000 stood in neat rows before Hellfire Citadel. Nazgrel stood on the high platform, his voice booming, and delivered a speech to the crowd:
"Champions of Azeroth, your courage shines brighter than a thousand suns. Today, we will end the Evil rule of the false Warchief Kargath Bladefist and return Hellfire Peninsula to the Horde's embrace. We have waited too long for this day. Kargath Bladefist and his master Magtheridon are about to meet their end. For Azeroth, for Outland, let us fight bravely! We have no more fear in our hearts; we are invincible!"
The cheers of 100,000 adventurers echoed far and wide, reaching even the distant Honor Hold.
On the walls of Honor Hold, Robbie and Krasus held up binoculars, staring in the direction of Hellfire Citadel.
"Another tragedy. Is there really nothing we can do to help them?" Krasus asked, unable to bear it.
Robbie shook his head. "There's no way around it. Just as you wouldn't betray the Red Dragon Queen, the adventurers of the Horde would never doubt Thrall."
An army of 100,000 marched toward Magtheridon's lair; such a massive force was enough to completely surround Hellfire Citadel.
Strangely, Nazgrel did not do this. Instead, he ordered the main army to stand aside and led the vanguard of 5,000 men into Magtheridon's Lair.
A full 100,000 adventurers need to be turned into Tough Jerky; that's an enormous amount of work.
Kargath gathered all the sword-wielding soldiers from Hellfire Citadel and brought in a large number of Naga from Zangarmarsh, finally assembling a slaughtering force of five thousand men.
The Slaughterhouse was located near Magtheridon's Lair. When the first group of five thousand adventurers entered, billowing black mist rose from the ground, and all five thousand adventurers collapsed to the ground unconscious.
The adventurers need to be stripped naked, sent for washing, and then go through a series of tedious processing steps.
About an hour later, Nazgrel led a second force of five thousand men into Magtheridon's Lair.
Among the 100,000 adventurers were many seasoned generals who had never seen such a strange war before, leaving them completely baffled.
With nothing else to do, the adventurers began to whisper and discuss among themselves.
"I've heard some rumors," a Tauren from Howling Fjord whispered. "I heard we've been betrayed."
"Don't try to demoralize the troops, or you'll be punished according to military law," a green-skinned Goblin threatened. "Our great Savior is merciful and kind; he would never do such a thing."
The Tauren trembled with fear and dared not utter another sound.
"Can you smell it?" a Troll sniffed the air. "A strong smell of blood. Strangely, I haven't heard any shouts of battle."
"Don't worry, Nazgrel is a renowned general of our time. We just need to fight bravely." The speaker was a Furbolg who served the Horde.
Mist drifted from Magtheridon's Lair, and dozens of Undead staggered out.
One of the Undead roared in dissatisfaction:
"Listen up, everyone Fel Orcs want to turn us into Tough Jerky, yet they look down on the Undead. This is outrageous!"
"What, turned into Tough Jerky? Weren't we here to exterminate the Fel Orcs?"
"Lies, sowing discord, these Undead harbor ill intentions, kill them."
"Yes, this must be Kargath's conspiracy. We must trust General Nazgrel."
The adventurers, filled with righteous indignation, charged towards the dozens of Undead. Before long, the talkative Undead were reduced to a pile of bone dust.
After a while, a strong Fel Orcs emerged from the depths of Magtheridon's Lair and loudly protested to Nazgrel:
"What did you do? A bunch of rotten bones from the Undead, how can you make Tough Jerky from them? Get the Undead out of here!"
Nazgrel was incredibly annoyed; the Fel Orcs had said it in public, regardless of the occasion.
"Alright, I'll immediately send the Undead forward, and the Blood Elves too." Remembering Thrall's fear of Kael'thas, Nazgrel nodded.
Their conversation was overheard by adventurers at the front and gradually spread.
"Rumors stop with the wise. I believe Nazgrel wouldn't treat us like that," many adventurers said.
"Yes, this must be Kargath's scheme. Our time to be tested has come. We must not waver."
Before long, the order came down, and the Blood Elves and Undead stepped forward and immediately returned to Thrallmar.
The remaining adventurers were no longer calm, and countless rumors and gossips began to circulate.
"What's going on? Are they really going to turn us into Tough Jerky?" a Pandaren asked, looking aggrieved.
"I don't know, but I have great faith in the great Savior Thrall. Let's wait and see."
Three groups of five thousand men each entered Magtheridon's Lair, the stench of blood growing ever stronger, almost nauseating.
The remaining adventurers gradually became lethargic, some sitting, some lying down, and they began to chatter amongst themselves.
Nazgrel was very dissatisfied and shouted loudly:
"Get your act together! Azeroth is facing a life-or-death crisis. Your comrades are fighting valiantly on the front lines. How can you be so lazy as to do this in the Thrall, your Savior?"
The adventurers finally calmed down, lined up in neat rows, and stopped talking.
Most of the day had passed, and the adventurers, standing ramrod straight in their rows, felt as if their legs were made of lead.
Six groups of five thousand men each have already disappeared from Magtheridon's lair, leaving a large empty space.
A large Fel Orcs emerged from Hellfire Citadel and buried wooden poles in the open ground.
Immediately afterwards, cartloads of processed corpses were transported out, and the Fel Orcs carefully hung the corpses on wooden poles to dry, forming a forest of flesh.
The Fel Orcs in Hellfire Citadel use a rather primitive method to dispose of corpses, requiring them to be exposed to direct sunlight.
"By the Holy Light, where did these corpses come from?"
"Are we really going to be turned into Tough Jerky?"
"Don't speak nonsense, the great Savior Thrall is merciful and kind."
"This must be an illusion created by Magtheridon to demoralize our troops; it's a test for us."
As everyone was discussing the matter, hundreds of adventurers rushed out of Magtheridon's Lair, covered in blood. The adventurers at the front shouted:
"Run, everyone! This is a conspiracy! The Fel Orcs want to turn us into Tough Jerky!"
Nazgrel waved his hand, and his Personal Guard rushed forward, killing all the fleeing adventurers.
"Spreading rumors and undermining morale is an unforgivable crime. Military orders are absolute; who wants to learn from them?"
The remaining adventurers all fell silent, not daring to utter a word.
As more and more adventurers entered Magtheridon's Lair, the number of wooden poles hanging with corpses also increased.
Eventually, everyone realized it was a conspiracy; Nazgrel had betrayed them.
However, no one dared to resist, not even utter a sound. Numb and indifferent, they silently walked deeper into the lair, where they were turned into Tough Jerky.
For three whole days, 100,000 adventurers vanished from Magtheridon's Lair.
The open ground surrounding Hellfire Citadel was littered with corpses waiting to be dried.