The newcomer was Edolas Blackmoore, a lieutenant from Lordaeron, who was patrolling the Whitewater River near Tarren Mill with his servants and several soldiers.
Young Blackmoore fought bravely and distinguished himself in the war against the Orcs.
Unfortunately, his father, Admiral Edlin Blackmoore of Lordaeron, was a notorious traitor.
Influenced by his father, Blackmoore's career stalled at the rank of lieutenant, and he was never able to advance further.
Fortunately, his father left him an inheritance: a piece of land in Hillsbrad Foothills.
Although his official rank was not high, he was indeed a landowner, and his subordinates addressed him affectionately as "Lord."
Upon seeing the Orcs baby in the wooden tub, Blackmoore quickly jumped into the water, ignoring that his brand-new military uniform was soaked, and hurriedly carried the baby to the shore.
Blackmoore looked at the baby in her arms and smiled gently.
"By the Holy Light, look at his eyes and brows, how lovely they are! They must be a gift from the Holy Light. Holy Light, Holy Light! Praise be to the Holy Light!"
"My lord, this is an Orcs baby." The speaker was Tamis Fawkeston, Blackmoore's loyal servant and Taretha's father.
"No, he was a lovely life."
A gentle light shone in Blackmoore's eyes:
"In my territory, orphans are all well cared for, and Orcs are no exception. I will let him grow up alongside the children, without distinction."
Tamis scratched his head. "My lord, if you want to keep him as a pet, I have no objection, but I don't think it's appropriate to let him grow up with the children. The Orcs have killed so many of us, never sparing a single baby, not one."
Blackmoore sighed, "Tamis, you should know, I have no children, and this Orcs baby feels very dear to me."
Because his father was a traitor, no girl was willing to marry Blackmoore, and he remained single.
Tamis asked in surprise, "My lord, you don't mean to think this is absolutely impossible, that he's an Orcs."
Blackmoore had long planned to adopt a son so that he could inherit his land in the future, but he had not yet met a suitable one.
"Orcs!" The warm light in Blackmoore's eyes vanished. "Yes, the nobles of Lordaeron won't agree. King Terenas may favor Orcs, but he won't allow an Orcs to inherit the lordship. But I will still adopt him and nurture him carefully. Once I choose a suitable successor, I hope the two can become good brothers."
Tamis breathed a sigh of relief, "My lord, do you intend to train him to be a Warrior?"
Blackmoore paused for a moment, then shook his head firmly:
"Our generation suffered too much from the trauma of war. The Orcs have been defeated, Lordaeron has ushered in peace. There will be no more bloodshed and sacrifice. Just teach him some self-defense skills. I hope he can read more and become a learned scholar. It's a pity that Orcs can't learn magic, otherwise I would definitely send him to Dalaran."
Tamis looked down at the baby in the lord's arms. "My lord, you are too kind. We roughnecks are good at fighting, but we can't raise a scholar. A Bards has recently come to Southshore. He writes excellent poems, is knowledgeable, and speaks eloquently. Why don't we invite him over?"
Blackmoore nodded, then earnestly instructed, "Make sure you find out the Bards's background; he might not be some unknown cult member."
Tamis chuckled, "My lord, rest assured, we've investigated everything. This man once worked at the Royal Library of Lordaeron and was formerly a nobleman."
Blackmoore's smile grew even more amiable, "Very good, let's come up with a name first, preferably with an Orcs style."
Tamis had a sudden inspiration. "How about calling him 'Goudan'? In the Orcish, it means scholar or Warlock."
"Goudan, Gul'dan, is this really a good idea?" Blackmoore hesitated.
"Haha, hahaha, this is hilarious!" Rend couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Thrall, the future chieftain of the Horde, is being trained to be a Bards?"
Rend's laughter was too loud, but thankfully, Velen's Holy Light magic blocked the sound, so it couldn't be heard from the outside.
"I hate Bards," Anachronos said, frowning.
Bards often sang tales of heroes slaying dragons and rescuing princesses, which tarnished the reputation of the Dragonkin.
Rend patted Thrall on the shoulder and teased, "I'm really looking forward to seeing what you'll look like in this world, Bards, Goudan, haha."
Anachronos said with a grim face, "We must think of a way; this can't go on."
"Let me do it, I have a way."
Velen used Holy Light magic to transform himself into a human Priest.
His hair and beard were all white, he had an extraordinary bearing, and his eyes were bright and piercing. He wore a white robe that symbolized holiness.
He looks like a highly respected and esteemed elder, which is very deceptive.
Holy Light enveloped Velen as he waded downstream across the river, a pair of golden wings gleaming behind him.
Because of Velen's appearance, the river water turned golden, leaving Blackmoore and the others dumbfounded.
"May I ask who you are, esteemed senior?" Blackmoore greeted respectfully.
Velen stopped, pretending to look around, his gaze landing on the infant Thrall. He was immediately taken aback, and said in a strong voice:
"I am Alonsus Faol's senior Denathrius Fashu. I have been inspired by the Holy Light, and a king has descended to earth. I have come to seek him, guided by the Holy Light."
Alonsus Faol was a remarkable figure, an archbishop respected by all human kingdoms, and the founder of the Paladins and the Order of the Silver Hand.
Although they had never heard of Alonsus Faol having a senior brother, Blackmoore and the others were immediately filled with awe upon seeing the powerful Holy Light emanating from the old man before them.
"A king?" Remembering his unjustly killed father, Blackmoore shook his head and smiled bitterly, "There are no kings among us."
Velen said solemnly, "The enlightenment bestowed by the Holy Light shows that the future king is now an infant."
"What? Is that really true?"
Blackmoore looked at the baby Thrall in his arms in surprise.
Velen nodded. "He was not only a king, but also a great Savior. When the Burning Legion invaded, it was he who led the various races of Azeroth to form a united army and repel the Burning Legion. In the history of ten thousand years, his achievements are unparalleled."
"The person I took in turned out to be the future Savior Azeroth."
Blackmoore was convinced of this, and shrugged:
"I originally intended to train him to be a scholar, far removed from the vortex of war, so he could have a happy childhood. But since he has a mission to fulfill, I can only entrust him to you."
Velen was taken aback, not expecting Blackmoore to hand over the infant Thrall. His eyes darted around as he said:
"According to the guidance of the Holy Light, only you can nurture a king, a great Savior?"
Blackmoore blinked and smiled:
"How could I? I'm just a small country lord, burdened with shame, the kind who can't be brought into the open. No way."
Velen said with righteous indignation, "Your Excellency is destined to be with this infant. You must have confidence in yourself. If it were anyone else, they would not have become king, Azeroth might have been destroyed because of it."
Upon hearing that Azeroth might be destroyed, Blackmoore was startled and dared not refuse any longer, hurriedly asking:
How should I train him?