In Brackenwall Village, King Mogmorlok was deep in thought. Although the Ogres were impulsive, they were quite cunning and could be described as very shrewd.
To reach the position of king, physical strength alone is not enough; one must also possess wisdom comparable to physical strength.
King Mogmorlok pondered for a while, then whispered a few words in the Priest's ear.
The Priest was overjoyed upon hearing this, praising the king's wisdom repeatedly before going to make preparations.
High Overlord Mogmorlok arrived at the prison cell, grabbed Thrall by the neck like a cat under his arm, and deliberately poked Thrall's broken bones with his fingers, causing Thrall to grimace and howl in pain.
"Hahaha, is this what you call Savior? If Saurfang knew of your miserable state, how happy he would be!" High Overlord Mogmorlok chuckled. "Kill you, Saurfang promises to give me the Northwatch Hold and ten Orcs beauties as a reward."
King Mogmorlok grinned lecherously. "I don't care about the Northwatch Hold, but ten Orcs beauties, hehe."
Deliberately glancing at the Half-breed brothers, King Mogmorlok whispered mysteriously in Thrall's ear, "We Ogres all dream of marrying Orcs beauties. Their slender waists, graceful figures, and sharp fangs are all alluring to us. Of course, there are also some fools who prefer Gnolls."
Thrall was terrified and hurriedly pleaded, "My lord, if you will let me go back, I will offer you a hundred Orcs beauties, oh no, a thousand."
King Mogmorlok chuckled and shook his head, "A thousand is too many. Our Brackenwall Village has a small population; five hundred Orcs beauties will suffice."
Thrall was slightly surprised, not expecting the other party to reduce the ransom, and immediately nodded, saying, "No problem."
High Overlord Mogmorlok continued, "Our Brackenwall Village lacks meat. I've heard that Tauren taste quite good. If Orgrimmar could provide us with a thousand Tauren every year, I wouldn't recommend becoming friends with the Orcs."
"A thousand Tauren, is that it? I promise you." With his life in the other's hands, Thrall agreed without hesitation.
"I've heard that a robust Tauren paired with a fat Pandaren, steamed together in a pot, is the best dish in Azeroth." High Overlord Mogmorlok patted Thrall on the shoulder. "Now that we're friends, you wouldn't be so stingy, would you?"
Thrall thought to himself, "If I can satisfy the greedy Ogres, I can gain my freedom, return to Orgrimmar, and immediately destroy Brackenwall Village." So he said:
"Alright, a thousand Pandaren every year, plus five hundred Zandalari Trolls and five hundred Kul Tiras. As long as I can return to Alfalgarre safely, send them over immediately."
High Overlord Mogmorlok nodded. "Truly worthy of being called the great Savior, I feel your generosity, haha, we Ogres have no intention of conquering Azeroth, we just want to live a peaceful life. From now on, Brackenwall Village and Orgrimmar are one family."
An Ogre healer stepped forward to help Thrall apply medicine and bandage his wounds. High Overlord Mogmorlok smiled and said, "For the sake of the friendship between Ogres and Orcs, a simple ritual will ensure your safety, Savior Thrall."
The Ogre Priest approached carrying a large basin filled with a dark liquid, from which countless tiny red nematodes floated, exuding an ominous, dark aura.
The brothers Rexxar and Rok'ton were familiar with the dark magic of Ogres. Sensing the dark aura within, they trembled with fear. Ogres were a cruel race, possessing many dark spells that made people wish they were dead.
"Your Majesty, everything is ready, only the last ingredient is missing."
King Mogmorlok nodded. "Very good. In order for the Ogres to live in peace with the Orcs, we can begin."
The Ogre Priest declared confidently, "The final ingredient, the blood of Half-breed, is used to bridge the bloodlines of Ogres and Orcs."
The Ogre Priest slashed Rok'ton's arm, and a spurt of blood gushed out. He carefully collected the blood and poured it into the black liquid in the basin.
The black liquid boiled, and countless worms writhed and twisted, looking extremely eerie. The Ogre Priest smiled sinisterly, "Rexxar, Rok'ton, you've stolen quite a bit of our dark magic. Do you recognize this spell?"
Rexxar frowned, Rok'ton, noticing something, exclaimed in surprise, "Could this be the Legendary..."
The Ogre Priest chuckled and said, "That's right, you guessed correctly. This is the black magic of the Gorian Empire Imperial Family, called Damage Transfer."
"Damage Transfer?" Rok'ton; he had assumed it was another form of dark magic.
King Mogmorlok skillfully rummaged through the basin, pulling out a worm about the thickness of a finger. Among a basin full of thread-thin worms, this red worm stood out from the crowd.
The red worm struggled in his palm; Mogmorlok didn't hesitate to throw it into his mouth and swallow it, then grinned at Thrall.
"Honorable Savior Thrall, choose a worm to eat, and you will be free. From this day forward, Brackenwall Village and Orgrimmar are one family."
Rok'ton hurriedly said, "Savior, this is insidious dark magic, please don't eat it!"
Looking at the writhing, Blood-red Threadworms in the basin, Thrall felt a wave of nausea. The mention of dark magic made him tremble with fear. High Overlord Mogmorlok said menacingly, "What, my Savior, are you going to refuse the friendship of the Stonemaul Ogre?"
Several Ogres rushed in, firmly controlling Thrall, forcibly prying open his mouth. High Overlord Mogmorlok grabbed a handful of Blood-red Threadworms and threw them into Thrall's mouth, then forced him to swallow them.
Thrall felt a violent churning in his stomach, both itchy and painful. He gagged a few times but couldn't vomit anything.
King Mogmorlok nodded to the Ogre Priest: "Let's begin."
The Priest took out a needle and plunged it deep into the king's chest.
High Overlord Mogmorlok remained unfazed, but Thrall jumped up in pain, clutching his chest with a look of surprise on his face.
"Test it," King Mogmorlok ordered.
This time, the Priest took out a sharp dagger and viciously ripped a chunk of flesh from the king's leg. The king still smiled, while Thrall grimaced in pain. Even more strangely, Thrall discovered that his leg was a bloody mess, and blood was gushing out.
Conversely, King Mogmorlok's leg wound completely disappeared, Ogre Priest nodded in satisfaction, saying, "The magic of the Gorian Empire Imperial Family is indeed superb."
King Mogmorlok smiled slightly, "At its peak, the Gorian Empire amassed 3.5 million Orcs. The emperor established Damage Transfer with 100,000 Orcs slaves, transferring all damage he suffered to the slaves. No one could kill the great King of Goria."
Thrall was taken aback; he knew exactly what it meant.
High Overlord Mogmorlok stared into Thrall's terrified eyes and laughed, "Orcs never keep their word. If I released you back to Orgrimmar, you would immediately lead your troops to slaughter Brackenwall Village. Fortunately, we're together now. If anything happens to me, you definitely won't survive either."
Thrall quickly put on a fawning smile:
"Your Majesty, please rest assured. As long as I, Thrall, remain the chieftain of the Orcs, Brackenwall Village will always be a friend of the Orcs, and I will keep every promise I made to you."