Kites stared at Garrosh in surprise, never expecting that the mastermind behind the kidnapping of Prince Anduin was an Orcs.
Beside Garrosh stood a plump female Orcs, dressed in opulent clothes, shimmering with gold and jewels. Orcs gave a fake smile and affectionately took Kites' hand.
"Haha, King Majesty, I am Doras, a merchant whose greatest dream is to expand my business to the Eastern Kingdoms. The Alliance and the Horde are one family, inseparable, and can certainly exchange goods. I have some very fine merchandise, High Elf women from Silvermoon City."
Doras talked on and on, trying his best to win him over. Kites' face was burning, and he secretly regretted that Doras was too fat and not his type.
Garrosh invited Kites to take a seat, and said magnanimously:
"My father Grom Hellscream, was one of the greatest heroes among the Orcs. Heroes are the ones I admire most in my life. Heroes should respect each other and cooperate. We have a common enemy, Thrall. If it weren't for Thrall, Jaina wouldn't have betrayed you."
In the past few days, after receiving intensive training from Duke Bolvar, Kites has come to understand that Garrosh and Thrall are irreconcilable enemies, and that Garrosh, in alliance with Saurfang the Great, has successfully Pain Suppression Thrall.
However, intelligence also suggests that Garrosh and Saurfang's cooperation was not a monolithic partnership, and that the two had many conflicts and plotted against each other on numerous occasions.
Kites quickly concluded that the kidnapping was a unilateral action by Garrosh, and that Saurfang was not involved.
"Where is Prince Anduin now?" Kites asked.
Prince Anduin perfectly safe.
Garrosh grinned and loudly mocked:
"How amusing. His biological father is preparing a fake Black Dragon, while you, the imposter, are concerned about the Prince's safety. I think Anduin will approve of you even more."
Doras secretly glared at Garrosh, worried that he might offend Kites, and hurriedly said ingratiatingly, "King Majesty, it was precisely to cooperate with you that we invited Prince Anduin. We have no ill intentions; it is all for the peace between the Alliance and the Horde."
Kites glanced at Garrosh: "Sorry, I'm not the King of Stormwind City yet."
Garrosh said mysteriously:
"King Majesty, people can be bribed. As long as the price is right, King Varian will be dead, and you will ascend the throne."
Kites looked at Garrosh with surprise. This Orcs seemed simple and honest, but was actually very shrewd. He tentatively asked, "The condition for killing King Varian is our cooperation?"
Garrosh nodded:
"We need to cooperate sincerely to help each other eliminate potential enemies. This is a win-win cooperation. My goal is to oppose whatever Thrall supports. If Thrall wants to conquer the Lich King, I will sabotage him and prevent him from succeeding."
Kites looked puzzled. "Aren't you worried that Arthas will conquer Orgrimmar?"
Garrosh laughed, "As long as Arthas helps me kill Thrall and Saurfang, I'll welcome him with open arms. The Old Horde led by Thrall is outdated, and their barbaric acts must be punished. I want to establish a new Horde that values freedom and civilization, with the Orcs of Outland as its main force, and to live in peace with all the races of Azeroth."
Kites didn't believe in the so-called "freedom and civilization, peaceful coexistence," believing that the nature of Orcs would not change, but this cooperation was exactly what Kites wanted.
"Very well, we'll disappoint Thrall. If I become King of Stormwind City, the Alliance will absolutely not participate in the Northern Expedition, or they will surely meet a terrible end."
Garrosh was overjoyed. "I knew you were a wise King! Haha, I've already seen Thrall weeping and stepping down from his chieftainship. I'll turn him into a dog, just as he did to my father. So, Your King, who is the enemy you wish to eliminate?"
"Jaina!" Kites blurted out, though several other names were in mind, such as Rhonin, Khadgar, Marcus Jonathan, and so on.
Garrosh narrowed his eyes and sneered, "I promise you, I will destroy Jaina and her Theramore together."
In a secret manor in Elwynn Forest, Tirion Fordring sent a frozen, enormous dragon's head. It was the head of a Black Dragon, and even after many years of death, its ferocious appearance remained.
The goods were being escorted by members of the Argent Dawn. Due to the urgency of the situation, the Argent Dawn used a teleportation spell to send the goods to Tower of Azora, and then hired a wagon to transport them overnight.
Next, some processing was needed, since there was a significant difference between the horns of female and male dragons. This task was handled by Griftah, a renowned counterfeiter and merchant of unparalleled treasures in Shattrath City, who was known for his exquisite craftsmanship. This put Jaina at ease.
To prevent any unforeseen complications, Griftah and several assistants worked day and night, taking short breaks at their workbench when they were tired. Even so, Varian was still not satisfied.
"We must speed things up," Varian urged repeatedly.
Griftah explained helplessly, "Your King, this is a False Dragon's head. To disguise it as a real dragon, it must undergo special processing; it cannot be rushed."
"What is False Dragon?" Varian asked curiously.
Beside Varian were two guards arranged by Jaina: the blood elf Valeera and the night druid Brol Bearskin, both of whom showed interest.
Griftah patiently explained:
"Dragonkin are beings forcibly transformed by the Titans. They can produce super geniuses, but more often they have flawed offspring. False Dragons and true dragons are indistinguishable in appearance, but there is a huge difference in their souls. False Dragons have very poor intelligence, just like livestock, and cannot learn magic."
Varian said unhappily, "Since they look exactly the same, why do they need special processing? Are you stalling for time? Are you deliberately ruining my important plans?"
Griftah felt wronged. "Your King, true dragons possess dragon might, which is equivalent to the aura of a king. Even after their death, they can still awe all around. But False Dragons do not. People like Duke Bolvar and Archbishop Benedictus can see through them at a glance. I must pretend to possess the dragon might of a true dragon."
Varian remained relentless, glaring at them and saying, "I need it finished as quickly as possible. I'll give you three days at most, or you'll all be sent to Stormwind Prison."
Griftah was terrified and hurriedly begged for mercy, "Your King, spare my life! Three days is simply not enough. Creating a fake dragon's might takes time, at least seven days."
Varian was enraged. He grabbed Griftah and threatened loudly:
"Listen up, you filthy old Troll! The Scourge is rampaging, Azeroth is on the verge of destruction. We are willing to give our lives to save Azeroth, yet you are slacking off here. You have three days. If you don't finish, we'll take your head."
Griftah was so frightened that he cried, tears streaming down his face, "Your King, even if you wanted to take my life, three days wouldn't be enough!"
Just then, a mysterious horn sounded outside the window, sounding like some kind of funeral music played for those attending a funeral. Varian was puzzled when he suddenly noticed that the person in front of him had changed.
Griftah, the old Troll, straightened up and grinned, "Your King, the true dragon head you requested will be completed tomorrow."