The Argent Crusade was recruited by the Peace Dove, with Tirion Fordring as its leader. From the beginning, Tirion Fordring was an accomplice of the Orcs and also a provider of military provisions.
This force, absolutely controlled by the Orcs, has completely lost its autonomy. Even if their leader were a great Demons of the Burning Legion, no one would object.
Moreover, even the Evil Burning Legion pales in comparison to what Tirion Fordring has done.
Faced with Vol'jin's request, Sylvanas deliberately hesitated for a moment, then whispered:
"Turning Tirion Fordring into Forsaken isn't difficult. What I fear is the punishment from the Holy Light. The Holy Light is inherently hostile to us Forsaken, and Tirion Fordring is the representative of the Holy Light."
Vol'jin curled his lip and said sarcastically:
"The Army of the Light is a bunch of useless trash. Our treatment of Tirion Fordring only resulted in the Holy Light healing his injuries. Your Majesty, you need not worry about the Holy Light's Vengeance."
Sylvanas deliberately remained silent, and Vol'jin quickly understood that she wanted something in return. After thinking for a moment, he said, "The power of the Zul'Drak'ar gods, you can choose first."
That's more like it!
Sylvanas, seeing that she had succeeded, decided to stop there, transforming Tirion Fordring into Forsaken, which was also a way of giving Vol'jin face, and it was all part of the plan anyway. Sylvanas did not participate in the casting of the spell, ordering Antonidas to lead several Undead Mages to carry out the conversion.
Several Undead Mage carried away Tirion Fordring's body. The thought that Tirion Fordring had become Forsaken, which meant he was under Sylvanas's control, made Vol'jin and Eitrigg feel dejected.
Sylvanas seized the initiative from the start, possessing an innate regal aura.
"Your Majesty, we would appreciate your advice on how to deal with Garrosh," Vol'jin asked listlessly.
Sylvanas, beaming with pride, as if she were already the master of this place, declared in a loud voice:
"I have brought several hundred Undead Mage, all skilled in Necromancy. The Argent Crusade camp is haunted by the souls of hundreds of thousands of Tuskarr. You only need to provide some bones, and I will personally forge an army of Forsaken."
Eitrigg, looking puzzled, asked, "Your Majesty, what is your plan?"
Sylvanas smiled slightly, "Garrosh's biggest fear is the Scourge interfering. Believe me, Garrosh is a fool; he can't distinguish between the Scourge and the Forsaken."
Tirion Fordring sat up abruptly, instinctively reaching for the Ashbringer, but couldn't find it.
He was dressed in thin clothes, and although the tent, which had no brazier, was bitterly cold, he felt no chill at all.
All the Power of the Holy Light within him had vanished. Touching his dry skin and feeling the dark power flowing through him, Tirion Fordring gave a bitter smile. He knew he had become Forsaken.
High Archmage Antonidas put away his spellcasting implements and said to Tirion Fordring with a smile:
"Compared to earlier technology, the Forsaken's Necromancy has improved considerably. We've tried our best to preserve your appearance, applying some special ointment. Unless you observe closely, it's impossible to tell the difference, Tirion Fordring. Your true identity is strictly confidential; to the outside world, you are still a human."
Tirion Fordring closed his eyes; though heartbroken, he had no tears to shed.
"I've become a monster. What impact will that have on my future?" Tirion Fordring asked in a low voice.
Antonidas shrugged and said:
"With the technology we currently possess, a person only has one chance to become Forsaken. If you die again, you are truly dead and cannot become Forsaken again."
"You know that's not what I'm asking!" Tirion Fordring, somewhat annoyed.
Antonidas smiled slightly and said:
"You will lose most of your senses; apart from Holy Light and Elemental Magic, you will feel no pain. Moreover, your lifespan is theoretically infinite, something the Holy Light cannot provide. The Forsaken are Magical Creatures, and I am giving you a chance to regain your magical talents. Perhaps you will, like me, Consecration your life to wandering in the ocean of magic."
Tirion Fordring said sadly, "But the Holy Light has left me, hasn't it? I can no longer Ashbringer."
Antonidas pondered for a moment:
"The Forsaken are dominated by the dark power within them. Holy Light and dark power are irreconcilable, so Holy Light is the Forsaken's nemesis. Perhaps we can use Holy Light to replace the dark power. Tirion Fordring, don't be discouraged. If you are determined to need Holy Light, you should study it with me."
I have absolutely no interest in magical research.
A cold glint flashed in Tirion Fordring's dry eye sockets as he said sadly:
"I enjoyed the convenience brought by the Holy Light, so much without any effort, all I had to do was have the Naaru choose me, and I felt so happy. But now I have nothing left, nothing at all."
Antonidas patiently advised:
"What's the difference? Just like your defeat of the Lich King Arthas, it was all a performance. The Holy Light granted you power, but it won't help you defeat Arthas. What you need is to hone your acting skills and gain the people's approval, not to regain the Holy Light."
Tirion Fordring was encouraged and regained his confidence:
"That's right, nothing has changed. I am still the leader of the Argent Crusade, the spokesperson for the Holy Light, and I am determined to fight to destroy the Scourge and save Azeroth."
The Argent Crusade's camp, inside the caves used to process the Tuskarr.
Sylvanas, along with Antonidas and hundreds of Undead Mages, were drawing complex Magic Circles inside the cave. Under Antonidas's control, dozens of Magic Circles were operating simultaneously.
The cave was immediately filled with eerie winds, and the souls of countless Tuskarr flickered in and out of existence, filling every inch of space.
Those Tuskarr souls that were relatively intact were selected and qualified to enter the spirit Magic Circle.
The Magic Circle was surrounded by mountains of bones. As a large amount of dark power was poured in, the Tuskarr skeletons rose to their feet. The Undead Mage dressed the resurrected skeletons in armor and robes, and they became Warriors of the Forsaken.
Sylvanas nodded in satisfaction.
"The Forsaken created from Tuskarr skeletons are completely different from the Forsaken of Undercity. Garrosh will soon be terrified and flee back to Orgrimmar."
Under the cover of night, a massive army of Tuskarr skeletons marched silently toward Garrosh's supply corps.
Thousands of Tuskarr skeleton soldiers stormed into the camp, silently slaughtering the sleeping Orcs soldiers, burning everything, and deliberately leaving a few survivors.
Within three days, seven small logistics units were attacked. According to survivors who escaped, the attackers were a group of tall, skeletal Warriors.
"It must be the Scourge, why are they targeting me like this?"
Garrosh couldn't understand why, ever since entering the Scourge Zul'Drak Empire, Garrosh hadn't bothered the Scourge's stronghold, Voltarus, and the two sides had kept to themselves.
"The Scourge is too powerful. The strong don't need a reason to attack the weak. Perhaps this is Arthas's little warning, not allowing me to lay a finger on the Zul'Drak Empire."
Realizing this, Garrosh, being pragmatic, led his army out of Zul'Drak overnight and retreated towards Howling Fjord.