Out of fear of Queen Azshara from ten thousand years ago, Archimonde chose to retreat temporarily.
He knew very well that he could not conquer Azeroth by himself. Archimonde looked down on those savage Orcs and had more faith in his Burning Legion.
The mages of Dalaran were captured by the Legion and forced to help Archimonde build Portal.
"This is a disgrace," an old mage muttered, his brow furrowed. "We've joined the Burning Legion, served Legion, and our descendants will be cursed."
Despite saying that, he still dared not stop working under the watchful eyes of the ferocious Orcs.
A mage nearby whispered, "I heard Archimonde intends to pin all the blame on the Scourge."
"Hmm, not bad." The old mage nodded in satisfaction.
Under duress, the mages of Dalaran became extremely efficient, and several Portals soon began operating.
The first to be teleported were the Legion's technicians. These technicians were far superior to the mages of Dalaran in both their own strength and knowledge, and they Proficiency built the Legion Forge that provided Fel.
With the energy source in hand, an even larger Legion Portal was built. The mages of Dalaran were powerless to construct such a massive Portal; their knowledge and mana were insufficient, and the level of magic in Azeroth was vastly inferior to that of the Burning Legion.
Subsequently, the mages of Dalaran found themselves useless.
Under Varimathras's guidance, Dalaran Mages were slaughtered in droves, becoming nourishment for the Legion Forge.
There was no resistance, no struggle. The mages, who were usually high above and respected, were now like lambs to the slaughter, lining up to enter the Slaughterhouse. Their souls became nourishment for the furnace, and their flesh became food for the Orcs.
To frame the Scourge, Archimonde ordered the demolition of all buildings in Dalaran, the erasure of all traces, and the killing of all witnesses. Once all the evidence was gone, history could be written at will.
The Dalaran Kingdom was filled with lamentations as all its inhabitants were slaughtered by the Orcs. Unfortunately, in order to maintain peace between humans and Orcs, no historical records documented this brutal massacre.
The Dalaran Kingdom, one of the Seven Human Kingdoms, has vanished. Mentioning Dalaran only evokes images of a magical city, ignoring the fact that it was originally a vast nation.
Thrall was surprised to find that the Orcs had not become members of the Burning Legion, but instead had become laborers doing hard labor.
As the Burning Legion's forces entered Azeroth in waves through the Portals, the Legion Forges needed to be built by Orcs, the Legion's weapons and armor needed to be crafted and maintained by Orcs, the barracks and tents needed to be built by the Orcs, and even the Burning Legion's food, drink, and sanitation were taken care of by the Orcs.
Moreover, due to their lack of knowledge and skills, the Orcs were unable to participate in the most core technical aspects and could only do some manual labor, which made Thrall very dissatisfied.
Thrall, of course, dared not confront Archimonde directly, and could only angrily protest to the Dreadlord Varimathras.
"We Orcs are great Warriors. We have enough courage to fight on the Battlefield and never fear sacrifice. Orcs are not lowly laborers. Please give us respect."
Varimathras chuckled coldly, staring disdainfully at Thrall: "Orcs, you need to face your place. Before the Burning Legion came in, you were useful, but now, the Orcs are useless."
"Just because of those stupid Infernal, those dumb Doomguards and Dreadguards? That's not fair!" Thrall bared his fangs, clenched his fists, and protested loudly.
"You want fairness, Orcs?" Varimathras narrowed his eyes slightly. "You don't understand the Legion. In the Burning Legion, your status and honor are directly proportional to your strength. Let your strongest Warriors step forward and challenge any Legion soldier. If they win, the Orcs will receive the same treatment as the Legion."
Status must be earned through one's own strength. Thrall nodded. "That's right, that's very fair."
As the leader of the Orcs, Thrall would certainly not step forward to challenge them. Firstly, it would be beneath his dignity, and secondly, a defeat would severely damage his reputation. The cunning Thrall chose to send Saurfang to fight.
Saurfang the Great, the chief ambush king of Azeroth, the symbol of Orcs glory, is one of the strongest among Orcs. Even Thrall was not confident of defeating Saurfang.
Varimathras recognized Saurfang, but he paid him no heed and instead sneered:
"Orcs, you have no idea of the Legion's strength. We, the Burning Legion, have conquered countless worlds, not because of numbers, but because of our overwhelming power. Don't compare the Legion's soldiers to the low-level Demons you usually see; you'll soon realize how wrong you are."
Thrall naturally didn't believe Varimathras. Saurfang, carrying a Battle Axe, rushed to the Arena with great enthusiasm. The Battle Axe in his hand was burning with red Flames, clearly a magical weapon.
Saurfang was equally confident about the duel, Varimathras waved his hand dismissively, saying, "You can choose any opponent from the Legion."
Thrall was very cunning. He eliminated the Eredar Mages first, since Saurfang was a Warrior who relied on brute force, and the various spells of mages naturally countered him.
The Dreadlord Mastery all kinds of dark magic and is impossible to defend against; the Pit Lord is huge and has thick skin; the Doomguard is also a magic-based class. In the end, Thrall chose a Dreadguard.
In Thrall's understanding, this Dreadguard wielding sharp double blades is a melee combat class, and Saurfang would never lose.
Varimathras nodded. "A smart choice, but that's all."
The Dreadguard entered the Arena, possessing a physique even taller and stronger than the Orcs. Dreadguard glanced casually at Saurfang, then deliberately discarded his twin swords, choosing to fight with his bare fists.
This rude act enraged Saurfang. He gripped his Battle Axe tightly, entered a berserk state, his eyes turned blood red, and leaped high into the air to strike at the Dreadguard.
However, something unexpected happened: a layer of green Fel Fire suddenly appeared on the Dreadguard's body, protecting his entire body like armor.
The Dreadguard transformed into a blur, moving with incredible speed. Saurfang's Battle Axe missed its mark, and then Saurfang was struck heavily in the chest by a punch.
A fist imbued with Fel energy pierced Saurfang's chest, Dreadguard flicked his wrist, severing Saurfang's head and handing it to Varimathras.
Varimathras took the head and had a Legion Engineers take it to be repaired.
This Dreadguard was merely a lowly soldier of the Burning Legion, yet he instantly killed the Orcs hero Saurfang. Thrall could hardly believe his eyes, gritting his teeth as he said:
"This isn't real?"
Thrall was not unfamiliar with the soldiers of the Legion. He had learned from Medivh in Karazhan and knew that the fighting power of the Burning Legion's troops was definitely not as terrifying as it appeared before him.
"I understand now, it's that Fel covering his entire body. Something's strange; this isn't a fair fight."
Varimathras revealed the cunning smile characteristic of Dreadlord. The Burning Legion was a professional war Legion; once their Fel Forges were completed, they could provide their soldiers with indestructible Fel armor.
"Orcs, technology is also a part of strength. Saurfang was merely a failed experiment by the Burning Legion. We also wanted you to accept Fel, but we failed. Accept your fate. Orcs are inherently weak and only fit to be laborers."