Thrall's hands gripped Medivh's like iron hoops.
The sound of thousands of music boxes was breathtaking. The Spellstealer Wyrm within Medivh became uncontrollable and escaped violently. Their clothes were torn, and the Spellstealer Wyrm scattered, revealing the Lich skeleton of the Guardian Medivh.
"Are you insane, Thrall?" Medivh roared.
He didn't understand what was happening; if he wanted to merge with the body of Old Gods, he had to give up Spellstealer Wyrm.
But Thrall's bloodshot eyes, filled with madness, made him realize something was wrong; this was blatant betrayal.
Looking at Eitrigg beside him, he looked completely bewildered and at a loss, frozen in fear.
This is a treacherous trap.
Thrall bared his sharp fangs, his face contorted in a ferocious grin, and chuckled coldly:
"Heh, Medivh, thank you for bringing the Orcs to the Azeroth Continent, allowing us to enjoy all sorts of delicious food. Unfortunately, the Orcs are now facing difficulties. The giant turtles from Pandaria have been eaten up, and we Orcs are about to starve. The Tauren of Mulgore are far from enough to feed hundreds of thousands of Orcs."
"Let me go! I'll help you figure something out." The departure of the Spellstealer Wyrm tore Medivh's spirit apart; his head throbbed with pain, and he nearly fainted.
"No, we've already found a solution."
Thrall, in his hoarse voice, said triumphantly, "Research has discovered that mixing the flesh and blood of different Old Gods in a certain proportion will turn them into a pile of ordinary meat without any power. When affected by the Shadow power, this meat will grow wildly. There is a rift leading to the Void, which will provide a continuous source of Shadow power. From now on, Orgrimmar will have an endless supply of food."
Medivh was horrified upon hearing this, sensing something was wrong. His voice trembled as he asked, "What do you want to do, Thrall?"
Thrall snapped his fingers lightly, and the black mist behind him dissipated, revealing a large mass of writhing black flesh—an irregular fusion of countless tentacles, eyes, and Faceless Ones, a grotesque sight that filled the entire space.
Although this is the very bottom of the Ragefire Chasm, there is still a vast space here. This enormous lump of flesh is at least several thousand meters in diameter.
At the front of that mass of flesh, in the center of disgusting eyes and tentacles, there was a familiar face, seemingly a human face flattened and magnified hundreds of times, but Medivh could still recognize it as her mother, Aegwynn.
Aegwynn's enormous features were contorted, as if she were enduring immense pain.
"What have you done?" Medivh felt a chill run through his body. His Lich skeleton was normally numb, but a bone-chilling coldness spread throughout his body. He was trembling; he was terrified.
Thrall gave a sinister smile, curling his thick lips to reveal enormous, sharp teeth:
"The flesh and blood of the Old Gods require the support of a powerful consciousness to grow healthily, ideally a mage with strong mental strength. Unfortunately, your mother alone is not enough. Medivh, merge with the flesh and blood of the Old Gods together with your mother. In this way, you will continuously provide flesh and blood for the Orcs. This will be the new body for you and your mother. Every day, Orcs will come to cut off your flesh, and you will endure the excruciating pain of being sliced to pieces. If I were to add a time limit, I would hope it would be ten thousand years. And you will gain a new title: Everflesh Medivh."
Medivh then realized he had been tricked. His unparalleled magical power was his strength, but he relied too much on his strength and lacked cunning and tactical skills, far inferior to Thrall's.
Thrall knew Medivh's ability to read people's minds, so he deliberately sent Eitrigg, who was unaware of the situation, and successfully lured Medivh away.
"Thrall, listen to me," Medivh pleaded, swallowing his pride. "Without my help, the Orcs will lose their strong backing. You will not be able to stand in Azeroth, and neither the Alliance nor the Horde will let you go."
"No, we Orcs have found a much stronger backer. Poor Medivh, your only purpose is to provide food for the Orcs." Thrall spat. "Medivh, I've had enough of you. Your Pride and rudeness disgust me. You shouldn't be so disrespectful to a noble Orcs. Endure eternal suffering, Everflesh Medivh."
"Gul'dan, the Burning Legion." Medivh's heart skipped a beat; his worst fears had come true.
"Everflesh Medivh, the Orcs will be forever grateful to you. Accept this great honor." Thrall lifted Medivh's Lich body, now just a skeleton, with little effort and threw it into the dark, writhing mass of flesh.
A massive mass of flesh converged on Medivh, completely enveloping him. His consciousness exploded and scattered in all directions. Due to the sheer size of his body, the consciousness allocated to each piece of flesh was extremely weak. He was unable to control his body, feeling as helpless as a crushed bug.
His consciousness gradually faded, and he saw darkness creeping in.
In that painful darkness, he saw countless phantoms approaching him; they were countless Restless Souls, from the Kingdom of Stormwind, Lordaeron, Dalaran Kingdoms —soldiers who died in the Orcs Wars, and innocent civilians who were eaten by the Orcs.
"Help me!"
Medivh felt an overwhelming weight as large groups of Orcs gleefully rushed forward to cut off pieces of flesh. The conscious pain was unbearable, and he helplessly cried out to the Restless Souls for help.
The Restless Souls seemed to hear his pleas, turning back to look at Medivh with icy eyes.
"Everflesh Medivh, when we were being torn apart by the Orcs, did you ever imagine this day would come?"
"I never thought the great Guardian would meet such a end. This is your retribution, Medivh. No one can save you."
"Medivh, this is your judgment. The moment you opened the Dark Portal, your sins were already sealed. Wrongdoing must have its price."
It was all over, Medivh knew he had to endure this eternal torment.
How ironic! In the end, he himself was also eaten by the Orcs, becoming a pathetic joke.
Looking at Medivh's contorted face, Thrall let out a triumphant, maniacal laugh.
His long-cherished wish had finally come true. He had finally taken revenge on the arrogant Medivh and felt waves of vengeful pleasure. Thrall admired his masterpiece and felt that he had no regrets in his life.
Now that only Saurfang the Great remains, eliminating him after cooperating with the Burning Legion will be as easy as crushing a Saurfang the Great. He is pondering how to torture and kill his opponent in the most satisfying and cruel way.
Suddenly, a bright light shone behind Thrall.
Thrall clenched his fist, gathering the power of Flame within him. He nimbly dodged, then turned and threw a punch at the attacker.
The fist struck the attacker squarely in the face, producing the sound of bones shattering. It was none other than Saurfang the Great.
"Saurfang, the King of Ambush, you're old now." Thrall said with a contemptuous smile.
Since the death of Dranosh Saurfang at the Frozen Throne, Saurfang the Great's health has steadily declined. His endless drinking, consuming large chunks of roasted meat, indulging in unrestrained sexual activity, and lack of exercise have completely ravaged the old Orcs's body.
Saurfang the Great, his face covered in blood, stubbornly raised his chin:
"Thrall, you won't win forever; you've lost."
Thrall suddenly sensed the power of the elements gathering.