Illidan's move was undoubtedly an attempt to sacrifice the Demon Hunters.
Sensing something was amiss, and to avoid arousing suspicion, Illidan, with a resolute expression, declared passionately:
"I will personally oversee the Black Temple."
The Illidari Council was thrilled upon hearing this. They were unaware of Illidan's true thoughts and were delighted to have such a responsible leader.
"Prepare for battle; the Orcs will soon attack the Black Temple."
Illidan sat back on his throne and closed his eyes to rest. Before engaging the Orcs in battle, he needed to find a way to remove the cursed power from his body.
Unfortunately, this curse is extremely difficult to remove; it is the result of a millennia-long conspiracy by the Army of the Light, and it cannot be easily eradicated.
Duchess Malande pointed to the map of Azeroth and said, "Orgrimmar only has a little over 200,000 Orcs. Our Black Temple is well-equipped, with abundant Fel and ammunition reserves. Our Fel cannons have an extremely long range. I don't believe the Orcs would dare to attack the Black Temple."
Violet Deepshadow chuckled, "Don't forget how the Orcs won the Battle of Tempest Keep."
Gathios the Shatterer reminded them, "And Quel'Thalas, Magisters' Terrace —no matter how crushing the defeat, Thrall will always be a hero."
The four Blood Elves of the Illidari Council chatted and laughed, looking relaxed and full of confidence in the war against the Orcs.
Illidan looked up at them, as if to offer some kind of reminder.
But in the end, he held back and continued to deal with the troublesome curse within him.
Horde Warchief Thrall, escorted by an elite force, entered Shadowmoon Village, the Horde's Horde, from where the towering Black Temple could be faintly seen.
Before the battle, Thrall enjoyed a delicious meal.
A total of fifty Tauren were slaughtered, their hearts were ripped out, and their flesh was cooked into Thrall's favorite dish.
One of Thrall's aides, unable to bear it, whispered a word of advice:
"Great Savior, a great battle is imminent. The Tauren are skilled in Charge and are brave in combat. Why not spare their lives and let them serve the Horde to achieve merit?"
Thrall just gave a gloomy laugh.
Eitrigg came up, chopped down the staff officer with an axe, and stepped on his head while shouting an order:
"How dare you! The great Savior Thrall is everything to us! How dare you point fingers at our Savior? You're asking for trouble!"
Thrall pointed to the corpse on the ground. "Don't waste it, make it into an extra dish."
Eitrigg hastily smiled obsequiously, "His Holiness the Savior is merciful and kind, truly a moral exemplar for Azeroth. It is his honor."
After Thrall had eaten and drunk his fill, he climbed to the high platform and looked down over the entire Shadowmoon Valley.
"Let it begin. Illidan's conquest of the Black Temple was his own death."
In the Tanaris desert, thousands of Portals shimmered simultaneously.
Meanwhile, in Outland, in Shadowmoon Valley, thousands of Portals lit up.
"My Savior, the spatial connection is working perfectly," Eitrigg reported loudly.
Thrall chuckled, "The Blue Dragonflight has been breeding Orcs for ten thousand years; it's time to put them to use."
A piercing alarm sounded in the Black Temple, indicating that a large amount of spatial fluctuation had been detected.
After a brief moment of stunned silence, the Illidari Council immediately rushed to their posts.
"The Portal originates from the Tanaris desert; Azeroth doesn't possess this technology, nor can Medivh," High-ranking necromancer Veras Darkshadow reported loudly.
Duchess Malande's voice was clear and crisp. "Without a doubt, this is the Burning Legion's space jump technology."
"Does the Burning Legion really intend to break ties with Lord Illidan?" Virles Deepshadow frowned.
Thousands of Portals opened simultaneously, bridging two worlds—a feat rarely seen in the Burning Legion's vast history of expeditions.
The members of the Black Temple stared nervously at the Portal, expecting Legion soldiers to emerge.
Something strange happened.
"Orcs? How is that possible? Thrall gone mad?" Duchess Malande looked incredulous.
Thousands of Portals emerged, from which hordes of green-skinned Orcs surged forth, gathering like a flood and charging toward the Black Temple.
Upon closer inspection, the Orcs' equipment revealed that they lacked weapons and armor, and most of Orcs were even without clothes, wearing only a tattered cloth around their waists.
Holding a wooden stick or a stone in one's hand constitutes a weapon.
But what was most terrifying was their high morale; they bared their teeth, howled, and charged towards the Black Temple with reckless abandon.
"The Orcs are courting death."
Duchess Malande loudly ordered, "All Fel cannons, prepare to fire when the Orcs get close."
The Orcs, like a surging tide, had barely glimpsed the steps of the Black Temple when hundreds of Fel cannons roared simultaneously, instantly turning the sky a deep green.
Each bombardment claimed the lives of hundreds of Orcs. Many Orcs, tainted by the Fel Fire, could only wail in agony until they were burned to ashes.
Meanwhile, Naga archers appeared on the walls of the Black Temple, precisely reaping the lives of those who slipped through the net.
Corpses littered the land, blood flowed like rivers, and severed limbs flew everywhere.
Faced with the terrifying Fel cannon, even the bravest Orcs couldn't help but waver.
At this crucial moment, cheers and encouragement rose and fell in waves:
"Fellow countrymen, the great Savior Thrall is watching over us! For Thrall, charge!"
"Victory is within reach, what is my life worth? Thrall is my life."
"Burn our lives, for Thrall!"
Faced with impending death, a few Orcs couldn't help but unleash Blood Fury.
Other Orcs were infected and joined the Blood Fury ranks.
Death became a trivial matter; they bravely faced the cannon fire of the Black Temple.
"This is insane, this world is insane."
Faced with the immense Fel the fel cannon, the Orcs pressed on despite the barrage, determined to fight to the death.
Duchess Malande's face turned ashen; she had never witnessed such a frenzied battle.
More Orcs emerged from the Portal, surging towards the Black Temple like an endless tide.
The Orcs' attack lasted for a day and a night, and near the Black Temple, the Orcs' flesh and blood formed a viscous Blood Marsh.
The Orcs behind had to swim to get close to the Black Temple.
Faced with this situation, Thrall had no choice but to order a halt to the attack.
Naruk Xil made his move; endless Holy Light descended from the sky, evaporating the water from the blood plasma.
On the Battlefield, the dried flesh and bones of Orcs were more than a person tall, and the black and red, foul-smelling area stretched as far as the eye could see.
The generals of the Black Temple were stunned. After a brief regrouping, the Orcs launched another attack, and the land of Shadowmoon Valley was filled with green-skinned Orcs.
"A million Orcs have already died, their lives draining our ammunition and Fel reserves." Duchess Malande saw through Thrall's plot.
"But we have no way to deal with it," said Gathios the Shatterer Slayer helplessly. "We can only grit our teeth and bear it."
Just when everyone was at their wits' end, Illidan slowly opened his eyes:
"It's not like there's no other way. Have you forgotten about the Undead Plague?"
"Undead Plague?"
Duchess Malande's eyes lit up. The Undead Plague was spreading extremely fast, and the death of every Orcs would add to the power of the Black Temple.
Illidan thought of Arthas in Northrend, but his pride prevented him from doing so, so he waved his hand and said:
"I don't want Outland to become a world of the Undead. Fine, once our ammunition and Fel reserves are depleted, the generals of the Black Temple will prepare for battle."