Inside the sealed room, bones were piled up like mountains, and rats scurried through the cracks.
Thrall followed nervously behind Gandling Gadin. Ms. Barov closed the stone door and gave Thrall a malicious smile.
"Don't scare the newcomers." Gandling Gading said coldly, twisting a skull in the center of the room.
The black skull was as large as half an Orcs, topped with two spiraling horns. Even though it was just bone, its ferocity could still be seen between its teeth.
Thrall guessed that this must be some kind of powerful Demons.
As Gandling Gading cast his spell, the lower jaw of the Demons skull slowly opened, revealing a pitch-black Portal between its sharp teeth.
Thrall breathed a sigh of relief, realizing it was just teleportation, having imagined it would be some kind of terrible torture.
Gandling Gadin led the way into the Portal, followed closely by Thrall, and finally Ms. Barov.
After passing through the Portal, the glowing stalactites all around told Thrall that this was a cave.
A breeze blew in through the vents, bringing a salty, damp smell, proving that this place is very close to the sea.
In the center of the cave stood a tall Altar, surrounded by many people dressed in black robes, their heads and faces covered, walking back and forth, seemingly busy with something.
The Black-Robed Man on the road greeted Gandling, who then led Thrall to the top of the Altar.
On the Altar stood a block of Frost, within which lay a High Elf man, clad in a golden mage's robe, his eyes tightly shut.
"Latin, you have brought me an Orcs Shaman; I greatly appreciate this offering."
A voice echoed from the top of the Altar. Thrall looked around, wondering where the speaker was.
Could it be the person in the ice coffin?
Thrall stared at that flawless face and felt a strange sense of dread.
The Latin Dean bowed respectfully. "Your Holiness, he is not a sacrifice. We plan to use him against the Orcs and King Terenas."
"So you're a Protestant." There was a hint of regret in the voice. "The Cult of the Damned has never accepted Orcs. Very well, as you wish. Orcs, tell me your name."
Thrall bowed to the ice coffin. "Thrall, hailed from Karazhan."
"Thrall, an interesting name." The man in the ice coffin seemed pleased. "So, would you like to join the Cult of the Damned? We never force anyone."
If he didn't join, he might become a sacrifice, so Thrall quickly said, "It would be my honor."
The person inside the ice coffin said, "Very good, Gandling, go and arrange the ceremony to welcome the new believers."
An old Orcs was led to the top of the Altar. His white hair was disheveled and his clothes were covered in blood, indicating that he had suffered a lot of torture.
The old Orcs looked exhausted, his eyes were dim, and he knelt obediently before the Altar.
"Tell our new bride your name," the person in the ice coffin asked.
The old Orcs said weakly, "The Frostwolf Clan, Durotan."
It was Durotan.
Thrall was filled with horror. History was a tapestry of lies and deception, and now Thrall couldn't understand whether Durotan was truly his father.
Of course, Durotan of the Way of Time and Space has absolutely no connection to Thrall.
Thrall calmly took the axe from the black-robed servant.
"Kill him, and you'll be a member of the Cult of the Damned," Gandling Gadin whispered in Thrall's ear.
Thrall raised his axe and chopped off Durotan's head.
Durotan's body fell, and a wisp of black mist emanated from his body, most of which was absorbed into the ice coffin, while a small portion entered Thrall's body.
Thrall clearly felt that he seemed to have become stronger.
But he knew that power came at a price.
If he betrays the Cult of the Damned, the dark energy within him will erupt, causing him a fate worse than death.
Welcome to our new member, Thrall.
The person in the ice coffin seemed somewhat weary. "Gandling, take our new bride back."
Gandling and Thrall returned to Scholomance. Upon seeing Thrall, they hesitated to speak. Mrs. Barov, who had remained silent until then, said:
"You must be wondering who our leader is. He was a High Elf, one of the founders of Silvermoon City. He turned into what he is now because he secretly drank a bottle of water from the Well of Eternity."
A small bottle of water from the Well of Eternity can create the Sunwell the High Elves.
Such immense power is beyond the control of ordinary people; no wonder the leader of the Cult of the Damned sealed himself in an ice coffin.
Gandling Gadin stared into Thrall's eyes and said, "Thrall, from now on you need to proceed according to plan."
Thrall immediately knelt on the ground. "Please give us your instructions, Dean."
Gandling Gadin said sternly, "The Orcs on Caer Darrow Island are under your command. There are many old rafts in the Castle's warehouse that can help you leave Caer Darrow Island. Your next task is to liberate the Orcs internment camps in various places, kill them, or turn them into Tough Jerky, whatever you choose. Your Orcs under your command should not exceed two thousand."
Thrall grinned; this was exactly what he excelled at.
Gandling instructed, "Remember, if anyone joins you in attacking King Terenas, you must sabotage their efforts and prevent them from succeeding."
Thrall, confused, asked, "Aren't you going to deal with King Terenas and ensure his soul never finds peace? Why are you doing this?"
Gandling waved his hand and said, "Don't ask why, just do it."
With the help of the Cult of the Damned, they successfully subdued the Orcs on Caer Darrow Island by killing only a thousand Orcs.
Anachronos and his two companions waited by Lake Darrowmere, having little hope for Thrall.
After waiting for several days, just as the three were about to leave, dozens of rafts appeared on Lake Darrowmere.
Thrall led about two thousand Orcs ashore successfully, and triumphantly addressed the three:
"Although there were some setbacks, I succeeded. It's all thanks to my charisma; the Orcs' hearts are with me, and they're willing to acknowledge me as their Warchief."
Anachronos was somewhat stunned, Velen looked astonished, and Rend was unconvinced:
"Thrall, I don't believe you can do it."
Thrall chuckled and said:
"I've been the Warchief for so many years, can't I even handle this little thing? I not only need to rescue the Orcs of Caer Darrow Island, but also rescue even more Orcs from the Internment Camps."
Rend asked fiercely, "Wishful thinking! How do you plan to solve the problem of military rations?"
Thrall, his face contorted with rage, said, "It's not about the quantity of soldiers, but their quality; the weak must be eliminated."
In the Redpine Valley south of Hearthglen, an Internment Camp for five thousand Orcs was built, supplied by Four Great Farms.
Even so, the Orcs in the Internment Camp were still starving, so they had no choice but to build a logging camp and order the Orcs to cut down trees.
After King Terenas became the Lich King, the Guards of Redpine Valley quickly fled.
After leaving the Internment Camp, the Orcs of Redpine Valley discovered that Hearthglen was heavily guarded to the north, and Sylvanas's ranger forces were to the south.
They could only rely on logging to exchange for food, and their lives were extremely difficult.
When Thrall arrived in Redpine Valley, the Orcs rejoiced, finally welcoming their Savior.
Thrall gathered the Orcs in the Valley and, looking down from his vantage point, said:
"I am Thrall. People say I am the Savior, that only by following me can you live with dignity. But I only welcome the Elite; the weak must be eliminated. Come, defeat those around you, and obtain three heads to be worthy of becoming my soldiers."
The Orcs in Redpine Valley were generally malnourished, emaciated, and unable to resist Thrall.
As the first Orcs went berserk, the Orcs began to kill each other, and the Valley was instantly filled with blood.