"Thrall is a clever man. He excels at exploiting your weaknesses, then ruthlessly tearing down your defenses, turning you into a pathetic walking corpse, just like your father did. You must hide your weaknesses and deliberately feign weakness so that Thrall will fall for it and Vol'jin will misjudge the situation."
Garrosh always kept Saurfang's earnest warning in mind.
After this conversation, Garrosh lived in the military camp, eating and sleeping with the soldiers, caring about the lives of each soldier, and becoming one of them without any airs.
Garrosh, of noble birth, was able to be so approachable, which won him the support and endorsement of the soldiers, at least on the surface.
In this old era, the authority of generals was extremely important. Generals who shared the hardships with their soldiers would lose their mystique, diminish their authority, and thus find it difficult to command the army.
Therefore, Thrall and others scoffed at Garrosh's actions, but still outwardly offered their support.
After Thrall's persuasion failed, Vol'jin, Rokhan, and other generals repeatedly tried to talk to Garrosh, appealing to his emotions and reasoning with him, exhausting their efforts.
Unfortunately, Garrosh refused to budge, and in his anger, he beat Rokhan severely.
Rokhan, dragging his broken right leg, went to Thrall to complain and denounce Garrosh's barbarity.
Seeing that Garrosh remained unmoved, even the resourceful Vol'jin was at a loss. He said to Thrall, "Garrosh's stubbornness has exceeded my expectations. Now, we can only exploit his weakness and force him to serve us."
"Garrosh's weakness should be Agna," Thrall guessed.
Vol'jin shook his head. "Ever since Garrosh entered the Orcs camp, he has never looked for Agna. It seems our analysis was wrong. He cares about the soldiers and wants to be with them. Perhaps these ordinary soldiers are his weakness."
Thrall frowned. "How should we exploit this weakness?"
Vol'jin's expression turned ruthless. "Those who achieve great things must be willing to sacrifice. I have a plan."
Those who could cooperate with Thrall in his act and be on good terms with Garrosh were certainly not ordinary soldiers; they were Thrall's closest guards, most of whom were members of the Frostwolf Clan.
In order to accomplish great things, Thrall did not hesitate to send them to Rag City.
Garrosh, being of noble birth, naturally wouldn't Charge alongside ordinary soldiers. He and Thrall, along with other generals, stood atop the Divine Turtle's head, watching the battle from afar.
On his first time on the Battlefield, Garrosh was naturally filled with excitement and curiosity, looking around curiously.
The Orcs soldiers rowed their small boats, speeding towards the shore through the surging waves.
The Troggs's cannons roared incessantly, the sound like Thunder, but unfortunately the hit rate was very low. The vanguard troops successfully landed on the beach, formed a simple formation, and launched Charge.
On the beach, the Troggs, who were already prepared, all raised their muskets.
"How can mere Troggs possibly stand against us, the great Orcs?" Although Garrosh had heard of the terror of Volley Fire Tactics, he, like all arrogant Orcs, did not believe that the Troggs could defeat him.
Thrall snorted coldly and remained silent, while Vol'jin beside him simply sighed regretfully, his gaze somewhat complicated.
"For the great Savior."
For Azeroth.
The Orcs, shouting loud slogans, Charge towards the Troggs's formation. Garrosh thought he would see a beautiful scene of the Troggs being slaughtered, but he was soon dumbfounded.
As volleys of gunfire rang out, Orcs fell onto the beach like harvested wheat, groaning and howling. Orcs green skin and crimson blood created a complex, abstract painting.
Squads of Orcs landed on the shore, and the Charge continued, but it was to no avail. Soldiers fell and died incessantly, dying on the way to the Charge.
Enraged, Garrosh's eyes turned bloodshot as he roared, "Great Savior, Garrosh Hellscream begs to fight!"
"Foolish!" Thrall roared. "Your courage is useless. You'll be riddled with bullets just like our brave soldiers. You're my brother, and I don't want to collect your dead."
"But are we just going to sit idly by and watch our soldiers be slaughtered?" Garrosh demanded loudly.
Vol'jin patted Garrosh on the shoulder and said helplessly, "The Evil Troggs have enslaved all the races of Kalimdor. Tauren, Centaurs, Quilboars, Night Elves are all groaning in pain and suffering under Troggs iron hooves. We Orcs are destined to save Azeroth, and even knowing we are no match for them, we must fight on."
"This kind of battle is pointless, just a waste of lives." Garrosh gritted his teeth. "We must make a change, change our tactics."
Thrall shook his head and said, "We've tried every method we can think of. Only by uniting the races of Kalimdor and enabling those oppressed and humiliated races to rise up can we have a chance to defeat the Evil Troggs."
Rokhan chimed in, "Garrosh, don't you understand? The Destiny of the entire Orcs, the countless suffering races of Kalimdor, and the safety of Azeroth all rest on your decision."
"Personal honor and disgrace are trivial matters; the safety of the entire world is of utmost importance," Vol'jin said earnestly. "For the great mission of saving Azeroth, we are all prepared to sacrifice ourselves. Only you are still burdened by concerns, which is why our soldiers have to give their precious lives."
"Stop talking, let the soldiers retreat."
Garrosh clutched his head in his hands, letting out a painful whimper. "For the Orcs, for the countless suffering beings of Kalimdor, for Azeroth, I promise."
Thrall and Garrosh exchanged a smile. Although more than three thousand soldiers had been lost in this attack, the sacrifice was worthwhile. Great men only care whether the objective has been achieved; the sacrifice of ordinary soldiers is just a number.
That very night, Eitrigg wrote to Orcs, the richest Doras, arranging a meeting in the name of Grom Hellscream's son, again at Ghost Coast.
Grom Hellscream, the Warchief of the Warsong Clan, was a renowned hero, and his son was surely no ordinary man either. Doras quickly replied, expressing his great anticipation for this friendly meeting.
Garrosh was equally eager for this meeting, and he didn't care about the deaths of the three thousand soldiers; they were merely a necessary sacrifice to dispel Thrall's doubts.
Thrall was putting on an act for Garrosh, and Garrosh was putting on an act for Thrall. On the surface, Garrosh and the soldiers seemed as close as family. However, in secret, the cunning Garrosh took advantage of Thrall's trust in him, won over a group of greedy officers, extorted and oppressed ordinary Orcs soldiers, and reaped considerable benefits.
Garrosh had a few Dalaran loot items stolen from the Orcs warehouses, which bolstered his confidence.
One of the paintings is a beautiful landscape, but it has a hidden secret: a hidden compartment where something can be concealed.
Garrosh chose two things: a gleaming dagger and a Teleportation Scroll, and secretly placed them in a hidden compartment.
With the death of the orc's richest Orcs, Doras, Thrall is utterly finished. No, even if the assassination attempt fails, as long as Thrall is implicated, Thrall will still be implicated.
As for the future of the Orcs, that was not in Garrosh's consideration.
His eyes were filled with murderous intent.