"I do not understand."
Kites looked directly into Tirion Fordring's eyes and asked, puzzled, "All that you've done, all that suffering and torment, is to leave behind a name?"
Tirion Fordring's eyes showed some struggle. He slowly put down his glass, pondered for a while, and said:
"Perhaps you'll say I'm not worth it. I've also thought about it deeply. What else can I do? Once I leave the Horde's protection, I'll have nothing and fall into an even more miserable situation."
The fire in the nearby fireplace burned brightly, and the flames flickered in Tirion Fordring's eyes as well. His brow relaxed, as if he had come to some understanding, and he slowly said:
"Opportunity only favors the prepared. Perhaps one day I too will seize the opportunity, become incredibly powerful, and be as free as the Old Gods, the Titans. But if I give up, then I have nothing left, not even hope. What meaning does such a life have? Night Watch, you will soon understand what it means to be powerless."
Kites sighed softly. Tirion Fordring was right. When he was a Night Watch, he envied the officials and nobles who enjoyed luxurious lives, who had the power to decide life and death, and who were high and mighty.
But when he became the King of Stormwind City and successfully trampled the nobles and officials underfoot, he realized that Kings also have the same troubles.
They drove out Duke Bolvar in order to gain their freedom.
Now, the shackles of the Horde bind him, preventing him from breaking free, like a caged beast with chains encircling him.
I should have known better than to become King.
Suddenly, shouts of battle erupted outside the tent. Had Garrosh and Vol'jin clashed?
Tirion Fordring looked surprised and hurriedly stepped out of the tent. Fog had rolled in at some point in the camp, making it difficult to see clearly even a few steps away, but the sounds of battle shouts could be heard clearly.
The Orcs roared furiously, the Dragons hissed as they breathed, and the Dalaran Mages' dazzling magic flickered in and out of view in the thick fog.
"Strange, why did they start fighting? This isn't right," Tirion Fordring muttered to himself.
Kites looked at Tirion Fordring in surprise and asked, "Garrosh rushed here in the dead of night, didn't he want to fight a great battle?"
Tirion Fordring chuckled and shook his head, "Night Watch, you don't understand the Orcs. Although Garrosh came with anger, I know him and he will definitely remain restrained. Vol'jin and Eitrigg aren't fools either; you're not worth them fighting a civil war for."
Kites opened his mouth wide, but couldn't utter a word.
Tirion Fordring suddenly realized that the Dragonblood Orcs Kites were gone, probably caught up in the melee. He hurriedly said, "King Majesty, let's go back inside the tent and wait, lest we get caught in the crossfire. The fog is so thick outside; it's all a mess."
Kites didn't suspect anything, nodded, and followed Tirion Fordring into the tent.
Just as Tirion Fordring had predicted, Garrosh, despite his imposing manner, did not intend to engage in a battle with Vol'jin's Dragonblood Orcs, as a mutually destructive conflict would be detrimental to both sides.
Garrosh only wanted a share of the spoils. Vol'jin and Eitrigg understood Garrosh's thoughts. The two Orcs armies faced off outside the camp, seemingly on the verge of a major battle. However, the leaders of both sides had no intention of fighting and were privately discussing how to divide the 500,000 humans among themselves.
Just as the two sides were about to reach a truce, a thick fog suddenly enveloped both armies. Then, the furious roars of Orcs echoed from within the fog, and a small Orcs squad charged fearlessly towards the other side, hacking and slashing like vegetables.
The enraged Orcs were difficult to control, triggering a series of chain reactions. More and more Orcs entered a berserk state, making a chaotic battle inevitable. In order to protect themselves, Dalaran Mages and Red Dragons also joined the battle, and the melee could no longer be stopped.
No one knew that this chaotic battle was sparked by a bottle of Rage Potion.
Kites and Tirion Fordring remained silent. Just then, a man rushed into the tent. It was Kites's Head of the Guards, a loyal Veteran.
"King Majesty, Garrosh and Vol'jin are fighting! They're locked in a fierce battle, and the Dragonblood Orcs outside the tents have joined the fray. Our chance to escape has arrived!"
"Run for your life? Is that even possible?"
Kites asked nervously. It wasn't that he didn't want to escape, but he was worried about being captured by the Orcs and suffering terrible torture, which made him hesitate.
The Head of the Guards hurriedly said, "Your King, don't hesitate any longer, this is your only chance."
Tirion Fordring stood up, like a guardian deity at the tent entrance, Ashbringer in his hand, his body enveloped in Holy Light, and shouted:
"No one is leaving this tent today. This is all for Azeroth."
The Head of the Guards knew Tirion Fordring's bravery, but now he had no choice but to fight desperately. He charged forward and punched Tirion Fordring hard in the face.
Tirion Fordring was sent flying, crashing heavily to the ground, spitting out several broken teeth. Tirion Fordring then abruptly stood up, disheveled, and roared:
"I am the great Tirion Fordring. For the sake of Azeroth, no one can leave today. O Holy Light, bless me, grant me strength, and help me eradicate the Evil before me."
A terrifying Power of the Holy Light descended from the sky, enveloping Tirion Fordring's body. Blessed by the Holy Light, Tirion Fordring's strength increased steadily. Even Kites, who had received the blessing of the Goldrinn, felt a sense of powerlessness that he could not match.
Enveloped in Holy Light, Tirion Fordring, like a Deity, approached the Commander of the Guards step by step, proclaiming loudly, "See this? This is how the servant Horde gains power. There has never been fairness or Justice in this world. The losers lose everything, only the victors reap the rewards."
The Head of the Guards gritted his teeth, knowing he was no match for the enemy, but still bravely threw a punch, which was met by the terrifying Ashbringer.
"Bang!"
The fist collided with Ashbringer, yet the Head of the Guards was completely unharmed. The captain of the guards was surprised. Tirion Fordring staggered backward, and the Head of the Guards punched Tirion Fordring in the face. Tirion Fordring's cheek quickly caved in, and he flew away like a kite with a broken string.
"This is impossible." Kites looked around blankly, realizing that this was definitely not the strength of the Head of the Guards.
"King Majesty, things in this world are sometimes very simple; all it takes is enough courage." Robbie emerged from the mist, a black cloak concealing his head and face.
Originally, Robbie didn't want to rescue Kites; he preferred that Kitts die there.
But as Kites was about to reach an agreement with the Horde, Robbie became restless and began to understand why King Varian always actively cooperated whenever the Horde was in trouble.
In every war, the Horde emerged victorious, growing ever stronger, while the Alliance suffered immensely, with countless refugees fleeing, the kingdom in turmoil, and the Alliance weakening further.
Although he couldn't change history, Robbie couldn't just stand by and watch it happen, so he used magic to create a fog and threw a Rage Potion into the Orcs squad.
Do your best and leave the rest to fate—that's Robbie's attitude.
"Who are you?" Kites asked cautiously.
Robbie smiled and said:
"Your King, you don't need to know who I am. If I wanted to kill you, you would have no chance of survival. Come with me, and I will take you back to Stormwind City. This is your chance, and also a chance for Azeroth. I hope you will cherish it."