We only need to produce another 100,000 Tauren, adding to the previous 100,000, for a total of 200,000 Tauren.
Although they now comprise nearly half of the Mulgore Tauren, Rhen Bloodhoof was still extremely grateful, thanking Queen Doras for her mercy.
Where would they get the remaining 500,000 cannon fodder? Garrosh was immediately troubled.
Theramore lacks the strength to do so; while the Centaurs are numerous, they are clearly unwilling to become cannon fodder.
Among the various races of Azeroth, there are actually not many that can send out 500,000 cannon fodder, such as humans, Night Elves, Qiraji, Zandalari Trolls, and Humans.
Unfortunately, these races were not to be trifled with and were unwilling to sacrifice their lives for the Orcs.
"Have you all forgotten? There are over a million delicious Pandaren in Pandaria," Doras said, drooling.
Since witnessing the "tragic deaths" of his wife and children before his eyes, Chen Stormstout's heart had been deadened. He had been imprisoned for a long time and once thought he would not survive, but he no longer cared about anything.
After the Orcs suffered a setback in Rag City, Thrall vented his anger by tormenting the poor Chen Stormstout. The poor Pandaren spent each day in agony, his heart growing increasingly numb.
That night, lying in his cold cell, he was suddenly awakened from a nightmare. His heart softened slightly, no longer dominated by darkness, and as he pondered recent events, he couldn't help but let out a series of sighs.
Occasionally, he would feel remorse and regret for everything he had done.
No matter the reason, if something is done wrong and causes irreparable damage, it is a sin.
A long shadow was cast on the wall. Chen Stormstout looked at it coldly and saw a familiar Night Elf man looking down at Chen Stormstout lying in a pile of rotten grass.
Robbie remained disguised as Night Elf, anticipating that he couldn't persuade the foolish Pandaren, and was simply doing his best.
"Chen Stormstout, the great hero of the Pandaren, I never imagined you were like this in real life."
Chen Stormstout grinned. "What defines a hero? Savior like Thrall?"
"It seems you've redefined the concept of a hero." Robbie shrugged and continued, "In Azeroth, every hero I've ever met has hands stained with blood. From a mortal morality standpoint, they are all villains, ruthless executioners."
Chen Stormstout, clutching his head in his hands, stared at the filthy ceiling above him and said self-deprecatingly, "That's right. At first, I naively thought that a hero should be a great person, chivalrous and righteous, with high moral character. But later I realized that the so-called hero is just the victor's self-aggrandizement. Look at me now, aren't I the best example?"
Robbie saw that Chen Stormstout in a state of turmoil, on the verge of falling into eternal darkness, and sighed, "You must understand, some things need to be done, even if they are misunderstood and cursed by thousands. Not for yourself, not for your people, but for the Tranquility of the sky above."
Chen Stormstout, remained silent for a moment before asking, "You didn't come to lecture me, did you?"
Robbie shook his head. "Of course not. Pandaria is about to face a major crisis. Thrall needs 500,000 cannon fodder, consuming the Troggs's bullets and the lives of 500,000 Pandaren. Don't you want to do something about it?"
Chen Stormstout, seemingly oblivious to the numbness, narrowed his eyes and asked, "I remember the Night Elves were also involved."
"Tyrande and Malfurion made a foolish decision," Robbie replied casually.
"So what do you need me to do?" Chen Stormstout asked curiously.
"You don't need to do anything. If you want, I can rescue you and take you to a place where Thrall will never find you." Robbie looked around at the filthy surroundings and said slowly, "Away from the pain and torment here, enjoy a leisurely life of seclusion and good food."
Chen Stormstout, said coldly:
"I have already lost my wife and children, my most precious Wealth. Now I have nothing left but the empty title of hero. If I go with you, I will lose even this last thing. What meaning is there for me to live?"
Robbie scratched his head. Under Vol'jin's scheme, Chen Stormstout's heart had fallen into darkness. His worldview was shattered, and he was completely different from ordinary people, like a mental patient who didn't play by the rules.
After hesitating for a moment, Robbie said in a low voice, "Actually, your wife and children are still alive. Nomi used a teleportation spell."
Chen Stormstout's eyes lit up for a moment, a glimmer of hope appearing, but then his gaze dimmed again:
"You wouldn't understand, stranger. My heart is dark. This world is inherently dark. The Troggs have become the common enemy of Azeroth. If we refuse Thrall, the Pandaren will likely suffer the same tragic Destiny."
Robbie wanted to explain that if the Troggs had stopped the Orcs, the Orcs would have perished, but he couldn't even convince himself of that reason. After all, history was what it was, and some things were destined to happen.
Moreover, simply persuading Chen Stormstout would be useless; after all, this is an unstoppable trend, the will of the people, and the tide of the times. The Pandaren's acceptance of the Orcs and their worship of Thrall, the Savior, are things that no human can stop.
Robbie's figure gradually disappeared into the darkness, leaving the cell.
The next day, Thrall led a group of guards to visit Chen Stormstout.
"Azeroth faces a life-or-death crisis." Thrall, still spouting his usual platitudes, said, "Chen Stormstout, I need 500,000 Pandaren to join the Battlefield for Rag City. If you accomplish this, you will be a great hero of Azeroth, a great Savior like me. Of course, you can refuse. Countless Pandaren worship me; they are willing to do anything for me, including being torn apart and eaten alive."
Thrall opened his mouth, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth, and threatened, "A clever person like you wouldn't refuse such a great honor!"
"Great Savior, I am willing to Consecration everything for Azeroth."
"Chen, "Stormstout said humbly.
Media in Azeroth is extremely underdeveloped, relying mainly on hearsay, especially in Pandaria, which is shrouded in mist and almost completely isolated from the world, where the channels for obtaining information from the outside world are limited.
The Dragonkin, Guardian Medivh, are fully capable of showing the Pandaren what they want them to see.
A large group of Pandaren gathered in front of the notice board in the center of the Halfhill market.
These bulletin boards are controlled by the Peace Dove, who are managed by Jaina, and are regularly updated with information on major events occurring on the Azeroth Continent.
"The Troggs are truly Evil. First, Masters like Hong Xi perished, and then they killed the Ancient Divine Turtles Zhen Yuanzi. This is an irreconcilable feud, and we Pandaren will never let the Troggs get away with this."
"The Evil Troggs are trying to destroy Azeroth! We Pandaren are also part of Xe'ra, and we should extend a helping hand to the merciful Orcs to eliminate the Troggs."
A group of Pandaren were filled with righteous indignation, eager to get to Rag City immediately.
Next to the bulletin board were several wanted posters, with the highest bounties for Masters Lan Chou and Li Qing.
The bounty notice stated that the death of the Ancient Divine Turtles Zhen Yuanzi was due to the shameful desertion of these two masters.