A flash of light Windsor, who hurriedly opened his eyes to see three bare-chested Orcs wielding Butcher's knives, staring at him menacingly!
"Where is this place?" Windsor asked. Seeing the Orcs, he thought he was safe, but of course, he hadn't forgotten his experience in the Redridge Mountains and remained wary.
"This is the Drag of Orgrimmar, the Delicious Time Hotel." An Orcs scrutinized Windsor with a critical eye. "Why would Jaina send a man? It's not only the prettiest, best-skinned girls who are qualified to be teleported here."
Windsor's heart pounded. He remembered the workshop of the Forest Trolls in Cutthroat Alley, the one that supplied sauces to a hotel in Orgrimmar.
"If I don't take action, I'll die here and become food for the Orcs."
Windsor hastily introduced himself, "I am Windsor, the Marshal of Stormwind City's defenses. I wish to see the great Savior, Thrall."
"A marshal?" An Orcs glanced at him, a smirk playing on his lips, and calmly went out to report to Thrall.
Windsor waited for a long time, until his stomach started growling, before a large group of Orcs guards appeared outside the door, and a strong old Orcs walked in.
"I am Thrall's life advisor, the pure and noble Eitrigg, Marshal Windsor. Welcome to Orgrimmar. Please make yourself at home. The great Savior Thrall has been waiting for you for a long time."
Inside the chieftain's Dining Hall, Windsor met Thrall, the Savior. A complete Tauren lay on the table, Thrall leisurely ate his beef.
"Truly worthy of being called the great Savior Thrall," Windsor thought to himself. "His technique in slicing beef is so Proficiency, and his expression while eating it is so elegant."
The Dining Hall was filled with guards and Chefs, and no one dared to breathe loudly. The only sound was the clinking of Thrall's knife and fork against his plate. Windsor had been waiting for most of the day and was almost fainting from hunger when Thrall finally finished his meal.
After the main course came dessert. A Blood Elf woman, cut into pieces, was brought out. Thrall only ate a few bites before putting down his knife and fork and saying:
"Windsor, do you know how much the Horde paid to save Azeroth? Look at this Tauren and this Blood Elf, they both willingly let me eat them. They sacrificed themselves for the peace and Justice of Azeroth."
Thrall raised his head and stared at Windsor with a ferocious face. "What are you willing to pay?"
Windsor was terrified, fearing he would be eaten, and quickly put on a fawning expression. "I'm willing to give anything."
"Very good, I greatly admire the spirit of Consecration." Thrall nodded in satisfaction.
Eitrigg clapped his hands, and several guards brought in a girl. Windsor was terrified when he saw her; it was his daughter, who had just turned eighteen.
A guard brought over a copper basin, and as Thrall washed his hands, he said casually, "Marshal Windsor, I believe in your Consecration. King Varian's first act upon his return will be to slay the Black Dragon Princess and win glory and dignity for himself."
Windsor looked at Thrall pleadingly, but Thrall seemed not to see it, and said indifferently, "If a fully grown Black Dragon is determined to escape, it is very difficult to kill her. Varian is a foolish coward. Even if you give him a million soldiers, he can't kill the Black Dragon Princess. Of course, someone will help him accomplish this, such as creating a fake Black Dragon head."
At this point, Thrall suddenly raised his voice:
"I am the great Savior, the most powerful hero of Azeroth, how could I possibly perform worse than the lowly Varian? I need the head of the Black Dragon Princess."
Eitrigg approached Windsor: "Marshal Windsor, Stormwind City already has the head of a Black Dragon. We heard it's your wife, so we've brought your daughter here. Quickly transform her into Black Dragon, and we'll cut off her head."
"No! No, great Savior, please!"
Windsor pleaded tearfully, explaining that the reason he had the courage to kill his wife in Stormwind City was because he believed he could find someone better.
But faced with his own flesh and blood, he found it difficult to do it. Windsor weakly argued, "My Dark Illusion Magic can only last for a limited time."
Eitrigg was not surprised and shouted:
"We know, but that's enough to create a fake Black Dragon. Marshal Windsor, what are you waiting for? For the sake of Azeroth, are you unwilling to offer up your lowly daughter? Don't you know that humanity will ultimately become food for the Orcs?"
Windsor's hands trembled, knowing this was his only chance to survive. He whispered, "Daughter, all of this is to save Azeroth. I will be proud of you."
As the Dark Illusion Magic descended, Marshal Windsor's daughter transformed into a gigantic Black Dragon. Eitrigg drew a giant axe, leaped high into the air, and easily chopped off the massive dragon's head.
"Noble Eitrigg, worthy of being my warrior." Thrall chuckled coldly, then turned to Windsor: "Marshal, you are a noble human. I will bestow upon you the highest honor of the Orcs. You will be proudly torn apart and devoured by the Orcs."
"No! No!" Windsor cried out in despair, only to see a large group of Orcs rush in, opening their blood-red maws and tearing at Windsor's flesh, quickly devouring him completely.
Meryl Winterstorm lives in seclusion in a mountain valley deep within the Duskwood, a mysterious place unmarked on any map, shrouded in powerful magic.
Anyone who accidentally wanders in will be quite surprised.
The architecture here is exactly the same as that of the Burning Legion, with green Fel flowing freely, towering Legion buildings standing side by side, and a Legion Portal in the center of the camp.
Winterstorm Academy, the most mysterious academy in Azeroth, is frequented by no creatures native to Azeroth. The majority of visitors are Dreadlords, but beautiful Succubus also roam freely.
Long ago, Meryl Winterstorm maintained a tacit understanding with the Burning Legion. Legion Demons entering the Azeroth, especially Dreadlords and Succubus who were engaged in espionage, had to first study under Meryl Winterstorm. The curriculum included Azeroth's language, writing system, customs, food culture, and so on.
In Meryl Winterstorm's view, this was not a betrayal of Azeroth. The purpose of the academy was cultural exchange, to let the Burning Legion understand Azeroth's culture and promote mutual understanding.
Jaina entered Winterstorm Academy, greeted the students warmly, and successfully met Meryl Winterstorm.
Meryl Winterstorm wore a black robe. Although he was an Undead, he paid great attention to his appearance. His long black hair was perfectly styled, and he wore exquisite glasses.
Jaina greeted him politely, "Master Meryl, my mentor Aegwynn told me that you are the most powerful Undead Mage in Azeroth, and that the Lich King Arthas is merely an insignificant junior compared to you."
Although he had lived for over three thousand years, flattery was still very effective, Meryl Winterstorm said confidently:
"Arthas is a fool. Compared to his understanding of Undead magic, he's just an Entry."