"So you captured an Orcs Shaman."
The lecturer, Malicia, had beautiful blonde hair and carefully examined the Ghost Wolf's fur. Although she was a High Elf with delicate features, there was a hint of inhuman coldness between her lips and brows.
Thrall didn't dare to move, feeling only endless chill in his heart.
Illucia smiled seductively, "How about we follow the old rules and dissect it directly? I'm very curious about the Ghost Wolf's internal organs."
Thrall was so frightened he almost fainted.
Instructor Malicia chuckled, "Ghost Wolves are spirit creatures; you can't see anything with them. But this wolf has other uses."
Professor Krastinov, sharpening his meat cleaver, chuckled maliciously, "I've always been very curious about the Orcs Shaman' ability to forcibly enslave the elements. I've prepared a series of experiments; perhaps I can uncover the secret."
Illucia asked, puzzled, "Why not just torture them directly?"
The professor's face darkened, and he shrugged. Lecturer Malicia explained:
"Humans once learned Shaman magic from the Orcs, but unfortunately they couldn't communicate with the elements, Orcs themselves didn't know why."
"I see!" Illucia said with a hint of helplessness, "It seems the elements also favor Orcs."
Malicia chuckled, "Professor, you can have the Ghost Wolf for now. Remember not to kill it; I have other uses for it."
Professor Krastinov led Thrall to a dark laboratory, where rows of blood-stained wooden stakes hung with Orcs corpses.
One corpse in particular caught the eye; it was a gigantic Abomination, pieced together from dozens of Orcs.
Perhaps due to the experiment's failure, Abomination remained completely still.
"Welcome, little Shaman. Here you can experience the power of all the elements."
Professor Krastinov prepared a series of elemental gems, including fire, wind, water, and Lightning.
"It is said that Orcs Shaman can resist some Elemental Power. I will use these elements to stimulate you, record your reactions, and find out the reason for the resistance. You must not die."
Not long after, a muffled scream came from the laboratory.
Inside the principal's office, the elegant and poised Ms. Jandice Barov spoke with Dean Gandling.
The forces of darkness transformed Ms. Barov, making her younger and more alluring than her two daughters.
However, the murderous aura and ruthlessness on his face far surpassed that of his two daughters, sending chills down one's spine and leaving no room for evil thoughts.
"According to our intelligence, Terenas has become the Lich King," Lady Barov said grimly.
Dean Gandling of the Dark Clan was a refined-looking old man who resembled a scholar, and compared to the members of the Barov Family, he lacked some of their sinister charm.
"No offense intended, but what I must say is," Gandling tried to phrase it tactfully, "the Barov Family has been consumed by hatred; you've sunk too deep."
Ms. Barov slammed her hand on the table in anger, revealing a set of sharp, inhuman teeth:
"Gandling, you should know how King Terenas treated us. I swear his soul will never rest in peace."
Gandling adjusted his hat. "King Terenas has already received his due punishment. He turned the Orcs of Lordaeron into Scourge Undead. Isn't that enough?"
"Far from enough."
Ms. Barov's teeth were grinding together.
"I have paid such a high price, not only to punish King Terenas, but also to kill all the Orcs."
"Exterminating the Orcs won't be easy," Gandling said helplessly. "My original plan was to develop Plague that only targets Orcs. The Orcs on Caer Darrow Island would be excellent test subjects, but the experiment has encountered setbacks. I'm sorry, I see no hope of success."
Mrs. Barov's gaze softened. "Gandling, you are an old friend of the Barov Family. When the Barov Family was on the verge of extinction, you gave us the power of darkness. Although we have all become monsters, the hatred in our hearts has never diminished. If the Plague method doesn't work, we should try another approach."
Gandling pondered for a long time, "Then there's only one way left: use the Orcs against Terenas, make them fight amongst themselves. First, we need to install an Orcs puppet, but unfortunately, the Orcs of Caer Darrow are a bunch of fools. If only we had a Shaman."
A dark servant brought in tea and refreshments, interjecting, "Illucia and Professor Krastinov brought back an Orcs Shaman; I hear he's from out of town."
Gandling seemed lost in thought, while Ms. Barov's face lit up with ecstatic joy:
"Merciful gods, is this not my chance?"
Professor Krastinov lifted the silencing and magic-blocking potions, and the badly wounded Thrall was brought before Gandling Gadin and Ms. Barov.
"Your name?" Gandling Gading asked.
Thrall, unwilling to tell the truth, immediately replied, "Rend Blackhand."
Gandling Gading looked surprised. "A prestigious surname. What's your relationship with Blackhand?"
"My father is Warchief Blackhand," Thrall said sincerely.
Gandling Gadin nodded and placed the staff he had been carrying on his back on the table.
"Dalaran, people called me Dark Gandling. You probably haven't heard of me. The mages of Dalaran don't like to mention me. Do you know why?"
Thrall was puzzled.
Gandling Gadin's head stretched out, growing larger and larger until it filled Thrall's entire field of vision.
"Because I am in charge of punishments, no one can lie to me. Orcs, you are very dishonest."
A dark force invaded Thrall's body, directly harming his soul.
Endless pain tormented him, yet he couldn't utter a sound; only a monotonous countdown echoed in his ears:
One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight
The countdown ended, Thrall was relieved from the pain, collapsing into a chair, his body trembling uncontrollably.
"Now you can tell me your name," Gandling Gading asked unhurriedly.
"Thrall!"
"Thrall means slave in the Orcish." Gandling Gadgetzan raised an eyebrow. "No one dares to name Orcs that, or they'll immediately incur Medivh's wrath."
"I grew up in Karazhan," Thrall said weakly.
"A servant of Medivh, no wonder then." Gandling Gadin asked coldly, "So you were sent by Medivh?"
"No, I escaped." Thrall didn't tell the whole story, answering evasively.
Dean Latin said to Lady Barov beside him, "An Orcs grew up in Karazhan, Mastery Shaman magic, there is no one more suitable than him."
Lady Barov scrutinized Thrall: "Indeed, he will become a sharp Battle Axe, slaughtering the Orcs of Azeroth and killing that old bastard Terenas."
Dean Latin smiled and asked Thrall, "So, would you like to become the leader of the Orcs?"
Thrall had no choice but to ask helplessly, "Then what is the price?"
Dean Latin leaned back and said casually, "Join the Cult of the Damned."
Deep beneath Scholomance, in a dark, secret chamber.
Dean Latin led the way, followed by Thrall, and then Ms. Barov.
"With just a simple ritual, you'll be a member of the Cult of the Damned, Thrall. You grew up in Karazhan, how much do you know about the Cult of the Damned?"
Thrall dared not conceal the truth and answered nervously, "The leader of the Cult of the Damned is Kel'Thuzad, who is loyal to a dark being."
The Latin Dean stopped and turned around to ask:
Why do you have this misconception? The Cult of the Damned Dalaran.