Thrall led his troops into the Valley, only to find the remnants of Nazgrim's army right before him.
Suddenly, a strange flutter of emotion surged through Thrall's heart.
On both sides of the Valley, in the dense forest, birds sang freely, and occasionally the cries of wild animals could be heard.
A Shaman said, "Warchief, if there were an ambush in the forest, the birds and beasts would surely be disturbed. Now everything is normal, so there is definitely no ambush."
Thrall's face turned deathly pale, and he said in a cold voice, "This is what I was most worried about. Damn it, how did I end up in this obvious encirclement?"
The handsome young Orcs with rosy lips and white teeth was nowhere to be seen.
As intelligent as Thrall, how could he not have imagined that some schemer had infiltrated him, bewitched him, and impaired his judgment?
It was too late. Thrall hurriedly reached for the Teleportation Scroll in his pocket.
The Shaman, puzzled, asked, "Warchief, what's your basis for saying there's an ambush?"
"Are you an idiot? Have you forgotten about the Undead Orcs?"
Undead Orcs are different from living people; they can behave without startling birds and beasts.
Before Thrall could finish speaking, the thunderous sound of war drums rang out, and rustling sounds echoed from within the dense forest.
Eitrigg, fully armored and wielding a sharp Battle Axe, said smugly:
"Thrall, the Thrall of the Orcs Calamity, today is your end."
The Undead Orcs charged down from both sides of the Valley; they were faster, stronger, and better equipped.
Meanwhile, Nazgrim's remaining troops turned back and charged towards Thrall's army.
"It's Undead Orcs! Retreat!"
Thrall's army was thrown into chaos and scattered in all directions.
Thrall is nowhere to be seen.
After a Blood War, Thrall's forces, leaderless, were quickly wiped out.
While cleaning up the Battlefield, Eitrigg and Nazgrim both had grim faces, as they did not find Thrall's body.
"How did Thrall escape?" Eitrigg asked, puzzled.
"It must be the power of magic. I've heard that Dalaran has mysterious magic that can teleport people away," Nazgrim analyzed.
Eitrigg, suspicious and paranoid, asked in surprise, "Could Thrall be connected to Dalaran?"
Caer Darrow Island, Scholomance.
The messenger Kirtonos grabbed Thrall with his strong claws and hung him on a screen made of bone, sharp bone spikes piercing Thrall's back.
Several skeletal demons paced around Thrall, their eyes fixed greedily on his flesh and blood.
Madame Barov's beautiful eyes gleamed with Evil light, her lips curled slightly, and her scarlet tongue licked her lips.
"Thrall, do you realize you're wrong?"
"Madam, I was wrong. Please give me a chance and forgive me," Thrall pleaded in a low voice.
Madame Barov said firmly, "Wrongdoing must be punished. The Dean of Latin pleaded for you, so you will only receive the lowest form of punishment, the scourging of the soul."
The messenger Kirtonos let out a triumphant shriek, and Madame Barov left the room. Not long after, Thrall's screams echoed throughout Scholomance.
After the reading session was over, Mrs. Barov returned to her room.
On the skeletal screen, Thrall's back was covered in blood, his head was bowed, he looked utterly defeated, and his eyes had lost their luster.
"Thrall, if you want to live, you must make amends. I want to hear your thoughts," Mrs. Barov said sinisterly.
Thrall managed to lift his head, his mind racing:
"Madam, there is a way. Although my army is gone, my prestige remains. I am still the great Savior, enjoying extremely high prestige among the wandering Orcs. With just a shout, countless wandering Orcs will become my army's rations."
Mrs. Barov paused for a moment, a smile appearing between her brows:
"Very well, Thrall, I'll give you this chance. Don't say the Cult of the Damned is heartless; Kirtonos will cooperate with you, and his strength can guarantee your resurgence."
Kirtonos was a Gargoyle with enormous wings spread and crimson eyes fixed intently on Thrall.
Madame Barov instructed, "Kirtonos will assist you for seven days. After seven days, if your army reaches two thousand men, you will be safe; otherwise, it will take your head."
Thrall felt immense pressure, but unfortunately, he had no choice but to agree.
A group of nomadic Orcs, numbering around fifty, lived by fishing on the Lake Darrowmere.
With Kirtonos's help, Thrall successfully subdued the band of rogue Orcs.
Having turned thirty of them into Tough Jerky, Thrall began his expansion plan.
The news that the great Savior Thrall had appeared on the Lake Darrowmere spread like wildfire throughout Lordaeron.
Large numbers of wandering Orcs came from far and wide, eager to become Thrall's subordinates; countless wandering Orcs were moved to tears.
Thrall comfortably turned most of them into Tough Jerky, keeping only the elite.
Even so, the number of wandering Orcs Thrall was still overwhelming, and Thrall completed his mission in less than seven days.
Two thousand Orcs had regrouped around him, Kirtonos returned ahead of schedule to report.
"I am the Savior of Azeroth, the Warchief of the Horde. I will lead the Orcs to a bright future. Azeroth belongs to the Orcs, and only I can save Azeroth. I call upon the Orcs of Azeroth: Millions of my brethren, gather around me! You will gain unprecedented dignity."
At the North Mountain Lumber Camp, south of Hearthglen, Thrall delivered an important speech, which quickly spread throughout the entire Kingdom of Lordaeron.
Large numbers of wandering Orcs, as if injected with adrenaline, abandoned everything and overcame all difficulties to come and join Thrall.
A pair of beautiful eyes were already fixed on Thrall, Sylvanas Windrunner coldly observed everything.
The roaming Orcs are a major problem for Lordaeron.
Although Sylvanas occupied the Lake Darrowmere, she was never able to completely control the area because of the large number of wandering Orcs present.
The High Elves are extremely powerful in combat, but unfortunately, their numbers are small. Sylvanas can only guarantee the safety of the Andorhal region and the Four Great Farms.
Thrall's arrival solved the problem of the troublesome wandering Orcs.
But Sylvanas saw further: a united Orcs army is far more terrifying than a disorganized, roaming orc Orcs.
Late that night, Thrall heard the cry of Dragonhawk in his sleep.
Thrall, dressed in his robes, stepped out of the room. Under the deep night sky, countless Dragonhawk circled, casting down countless torches.
The camp was engulfed in flames, Orcs were in chaos, scattering and fleeing in all directions.
From the surrounding dense forest, cold arrows continued to shoot out, reaping the lives of the Orcs.
"Sylvanas Windrunner, you're ruthless."
Thrall's face was contorted with grief, his features contorted, and he felt a deep sense of defeat. He hurriedly took out the Teleportation Scroll that he had prepared beforehand.
With a flash of light, Thrall successfully teleported away.
The hard-won foundation has once again vanished into thin air.
The Teleportation Scroll transported Thrall to Tirisfal Glades, a small camp with about a hundred Orcs —a hidden move Thrall had made.
Having learned from his previous failure, Thrall dispatched several Orcs squads to lie in wait in various locations, to be used as a source of inspiration.
As long as Thrall is alive, the wandering Orcs can have as many as they want.
Soon, news of Savior 'Thrall appearance in Tirisfal Glades spread Lordaeron, once again attracting a large number of wandering Orcs.