In Hearthglen, Thrall once used the power of his Infernal Transformation, but was easily defeated by Barthilas. Saurfang the Great, knowing Thrall's secret, hurriedly shouted a warning to Garrosh.
They were allies who plotted together against Thrall.
"Foolish Saurfang the Great, Infernal Mantle is outdated; it's a mere trifle of power."
Thrall said viciously, a smug grin spreading across his face. Fel energy was transforming his body, dark power was gathering within him, and a pair of enormous, spiraling demonic horns grew from Thrall's head.
The sharp demonic horns seemed to pierce the Void, constantly drawing upon the power of Fel.
"Through my covert planning, the Alliance and the Horde conquered the Black Temple and destroyed the Demon Hunter Illidan. The Legion rewarded me with these demonic horns, enabling me to better wield the power of Fel. From the moment I first encountered Fel, I fell in love with it—the powerful, unrestrained energy is exactly what I need."
Suddenly, a pair of jet-black magical wings unfurled behind Thrall. His feet left the ground, and he hovered in mid-air. His entire body changed, large muscles bulged, and his ferocious face was hidden in the darkness.
"After defeating Arthas of the Frozen Throne, the Legion rewarded me with these agile magical wings, allowing me to soar freely through the air. In the dead of night, I sometimes transform and fly over Orgrimmar, searching for my favorite food."
"You, you're the flying cannibal Demons of Orgrimmar? Good heavens!"
Saurfang the Great gasped in surprise, struggling to his feet despite his injuries, just to get a better look.
After the fall of the Lich King Arthas, Orgrimmar experienced a terrifying period. A Doomguard, with incredible speed, would often appear in the dead of night, its favorite prey being the brains of Orcs cubs. This instilled fear in the people of Orgrimmar, and many adventurers who investigated the flying Demons met a tragic end, their bodies never recovered.
A terrifying flying cannibalistic Demons, capable of stopping a child's crying, it ranks first among the ten mysteries of Orgrimmar.
"No, no, who would have thought that the cannibalistic Demons was actually you, Savior Thrall?"
Eitrigg gripped his hair tightly, unable to believe it was real unless he saw it with his own eyes. He had been ordered to investigate flying Demons and had even consulted Medivh, but all his efforts had ultimately come to nothing.
"May my ancestors protect me, what kind of monster is this that I share a bed with?" Agna was so frightened that her face turned pale. The thought that the creature sleeping next to her was the fearsome flying man-eating Demons made her tremble all over.
"Yes, it was me. Someone told me that children's brains could cure certain ailments. Damn it, those despicable liars! I've eaten over a thousand, and they haven't worked a thing." Thrall cursed in the most resentful tone, probably triggered by painful memories, and glared fiercely at Eitrigg.
"I was just saying it casually, how could you take it seriously?"
Eitrigg looked miserable, feeling wronged. In order to cure Thrall's hidden ailment, he had collected countless folk remedies and secrets, some of which came from ancient times, including one about using children's brain marrow.
Garrosh smiled contemptuously, still full of confidence. Thrall's Metamorphosis was unexpected, but not enough to defeat him. Few people knew that he still retained a small amount of Sha power.
Boom!
A massive surge of Fel power descended once more, causing Thrall's form to change again.
Thrall's body writhed, revealing powerful muscles and dense scales, with sharp bone spikes protruding from his body, and a sturdy exoskeleton protecting his elbows and shoulders. Thrall no longer resembled an Orcs; his forelimbs had transformed into a pair of enormous, sharp pincers, and a thick tail trailed behind him. His entire body was covered in thick scales, making him resemble a fusion of the Burning Legion's Doomguard and the Pit Lord.
Thrall spread his wings and crawled on the ground with his enormous body, like a mountain.
"After defeating Deathwing, the Legion granted me the power of ultimate transformation. I don't know if this form can defeat Medivh. A cautious person like me would certainly not try it lightly. But you, in my eyes, are nothing but a bunch of insects. Your resistance is meaningless."
Garrosh stared at the monster Thrall, his heart pounding with unease. He quickly grabbed Gorehowl, who was still Gorehowl on the ground, and stretched his body, shaking his muscular arms.
"My father once slew Mannoroth, the Pit Lord, and I have always taken pride in him. Now I too will personally slay demons. Your massive demonic horns will become my new shoulder armor, Thrall."
Thrall the Demons laughed loudly, "You think an Orcs can kill a powerful Pit Lord? That's nothing but a lie to deceive Tyrande and Malfurion, those two idiots. Killing Mannoroth is nothing, so why let a dead man know? Your death is near. Go ask your cowardly father."
Garrosh entered a berserk state, his eyes bloodshot, the remaining Sha's power causing his muscles to bulge. Garrosh Gorehowl tightly with both hands, leaped high into the air, and slashed fiercely at Thrall's head.
Thrall, however, did not flinch and let the axe fall on his head.
Bang!
With a deafening roar, Thrall's head remained intact, while Garrosh's arms went numb from the shock. A tremendous backlash spread through his internal organs, and Garrosh, upon landing back on the ground, instantly lost all strength, his body went limp, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood, kneeling on one knee.
"Are you tickling me, little Orcs? Is this the power you're so proud of?"
Thrall looked down at Garrosh, chuckled coldly, and easily crushed Garrosh's right shoulder with the massive pincers of his forelimbs.
"No, ancestors above! It's terrifying! What a horrible monster!"
Garrosh's all-out attack failed to harm Thrall in the slightest while he was in Demons form. Saurfang the Great trembled upon seeing this, truly realizing that Thrall was invincible at this moment.
Garrosh was terrified; the Orcs warrior was scared out of his wits and knelt down to Thrall to Thrall.
"No, please spare me, great Savior Thrall! I was wrong! I'm willing to be your most loyal Servant, I'm willing to be your dog like my father. You can put a collar on me."
"I've already given you a chance, but you didn't cherish it. Your father is an old dog, and you're just a disobedient little puppy!"
Thrall's pincers seized Garrosh, folding him up, and Garrosh let out a scream.
Thrall crumpled Garrosh into a ball, and when he felt he had played with him enough, he opened his blood-red maw and swallowed him whole.
Soon, Thrall spat out a mass of things: Mannoroth's Fang Shoulder Armor, Orgrimmar's Black Armor, mixed with Garrosh's shattered bones.
With a single stomp, Thrall crushed Garrosh's skull, exhaling a cloud of black, foul air. The once invincible Garrosh Hellscream, the Warchief of the Horde, the executioner who destroyed Theramore, had been devoured so easily. Thrall licked the bits of flesh from the corner of his mouth with his long tongue.
"A delicious meal indeed, but I'm still not full. Now, who among you is willing to become the Savior's food and receive this great honor? I hope you will not refuse." Thrall looked at Saurfang the Great, then at the trembling Agna.
Eitrigg was the first to react, immediately prostrating himself at Thrall's feet and kowtowing repeatedly.
"Great Savior, Eitrigg will always be your most loyal friend. I am willing to serve you; in life I am yours, in death I am your Undead, and I will never betray you."
"You incompetent slave! You've tried so many methods, I've consumed enough medicine to fill the Orgrimmar auction house's warehouse, yet you still haven't cured my illness. You stupid old Orcs, what use are you to me?" Thrall kicked Eitrigg away, but didn't kill him, merely threatening, "We'll settle our score with you later."
Thrall crawled toward the trembling Agna beside him:
"Little girl, tell me, Orcs? You two met under the moonlight, he called you cute Little Nana, and you called him strong little Zozo. I know all of this, I just didn't want to pay attention. Do you think I'm really afraid of him? Do you regret your betrayal now?"
Agna knelt on the ground, pleading, "Great Savior Thrall, please spare me! I know I was wrong. Please, for the sake of the child, spare me!"
"Too bad, it's too late. I'll hang you two, you adulterous couple, naked on the gates of Orgrimmar, letting you die a miserable death under the scorching sun. As for your child, I'll devour his brains." Thrall licked his lips, turned to Saurfang the Great, and grinned maliciously.
"I'd love to taste the Burning Legion's failed experiment. Are you willing to accept this great honor, Saurfang the Great?"
Saurfang the Great fell to his knees with a thud, repeatedly begging Thrall for mercy.
Ring ring.
With a clear bell ringing, an old Troll appeared. Vol'jin, the Warchief of the Horde, appeared before Thrall, wielding a pair of Troll poison blades.
Unlike Thrall Troll who had been bowing and scraping before, Vol'jin now stood up straight, a strange smile on his face, stroking his long teeth as he looked Thrall up and down in his Demons form.
"Oh! Oh! It's really lively here. I can hear the restlessness of souls, the fear of Garrosh, so I came. Today is truly a rare and good show."
Thrall almost completely ignored Vol'jin's existence. Vol'jin was nothing more than an insignificant opportunist who would support whoever gained the upper hand; a loyal lackey and a puppet Warchief.
"Vol'jin, have you come to pledge allegiance to the great Savior, or to celebrate the true Warchief?" Thrall shook his massive body, spewing Fel flames from his mouth.
Thrall hesitated, wondering if he should roast Saurfang the Great before eating him, and decide whether to try something different.
Vol'jin hesitated for a moment, carefully observing Thrall's form, before finally mustering his courage to speak:
"Since allying with the Orcs, we Trolls have never dared to stand up straight, only able to walk with Orcs backs bent in respect. Now, those days of suffering are finally over. Poor Thrall, you will eventually become my defeated foe, and I will torment your soul day and night."
Thrall looked at the old Troll with a puzzled expression, not understanding where Vol'jin's confidence came from!
"Vol'jin, are you kidding me?" Thrall's face darkened.
"Thrall, I've had enough of your tyranny. I'll show you who the real Warchief is."
Vol'jin gripped his pair of poisoned Warglaive tightly, his bright little eyes fixed on Thrall.