"How dare a lowly soldier criticize the King's decisions?"
King Varian scoffed at this, unwilling to stoop to argue with a mere soldier, and declared with absolute authority:
"Doomsayers, you have no direct evidence. Perhaps your lies can deceive a few cowards, but they cannot shake the resolve of the majority of warriors. We, the valiant soldiers, have united to destroy the Scourge, all for the sake of saving Azeroth."
The young soldier wanted to argue, but he couldn't speak, only making "ee-ya ee-ya" sounds. There was no doubt that the Court Mages had intervened.
It seems you have nothing more to say.
King Varian was very satisfied and said in a deliberately profound tone:
"To convince you, I will not judge you in the name of the King, but will let the people judge your crimes. If even one person on this ship says you are innocent, I will release you on the spot."
Those qualified to sail with King Varian were mainly King close advisors, Court Mages, Royal Guards, and support staff such as Chef and tailors.
They were all close confidants of the King.
But nothing is absolute. One of the Royal Guards tried to say something, but couldn't make a sound. His face turned bright red, and the others wisely kept their mouths shut.
Tyrion the Gnome secretly noted down the guard who wanted to speak, which was tantamount to sealing his tragic Destiny. In such cases, the usual practice was to put him in a bag and throw him into the sea in the dead of night.
"Look, everyone's eyes are sharp; they easily saw through your lie."
Varian said solemnly, "Tirion Fordring once said: 'Race does not define honor. I have seen the noblest Orcs and the most despicable humans. You are the most vile human I have ever seen. Throw him into the sea to feed the sharks.'"
The Destiny of Doomsayers is tragic.
In the days that followed, Varian nearly purged the fleet of Doomsayers, because so many soldiers were involved, including many innocent ones. Large groups of sharks followed the fleet, scrambling to grab the soldiers that were thrown ashore.
King Varian was satisfied. On this day, the fleet finally arrived at the Valiance Keep in the Borean Tundra.
According to the previous agreement, Tirion Fordring should have led the Argent Crusade to meet them.
"Your King, great news! It is General Garrosh who has come to meet us," Tyrion the Gnome informed Varian.
Varian frowned deeply. Why Garrosh? Why didn't Tirion Fordring come to their aid?
After losing his memories of the Zul'Drak Empire, Varian became suspicious of Garrosh and wary, but the thought of his 100,000-strong army gave him confidence.
"I was just about to ask him what exactly happened in the Zul'Drak Empire!"
With a vengeful heart, Varian led a large contingent of Royal Guards into Valiance Keep, intending to confront Garrosh.
Stepping onto the land of Northrend and feeling the biting cold wind, Varian suddenly felt a sense of unfamiliarity, as if he were setting foot on this land for the first time.
Why do I feel this way?
Varian shook his head, banishing his displeasure.
Garrosh brought few guards, and the two met inside the Castle of Valiance Keep.
Inside the Castle hall, dozens of blazing torches illuminated everything.
Upon seeing Garrosh, with his sharp fangs and fierce face, Varian staggered in fear, wondering if this was the first time he had ever seen Orcs.
Why would he consider such a terrifying creature a confidant? Varian's doubts deepened.
Tyrion, the Gnome who followed Varian, fawned over Garrosh with obsequiousness, which slightly displeased Varian. However, Varian remembered that Tyrion was a member of the Doves of Peace Dove, who held Orcs in high esteem, and he let it go.
"General Garrosh," Varian said, controlling his temper and speaking in a more tactful tone, "I want to know what happened in the Zul'Drak Empire?"
Garrosh grinned, revealing his ferocious nature, and spewed out a terrible stench:
"Foolish King, don't you understand? In the Zul'Drak Empire, I wanted to use Stormwind City's 50,000 soldiers as military rations, but I encountered resistance from the Scourge. Fortunately, you voluntarily sent me 30,000 soldiers, which can make up for some of the previous losses."
"What did you say?"
Varian's face flushed with anger, but he was even more disappointed, and he never expected his memory to be wrong. He forcibly suppressed his rage.
"Very well, Garrosh, let's meet on the Battlefield."
Garrosh laughed wildly, "Ha ha, foolish King, can you even leave this room?"
"What did you say? Royal Guards, prepare for battle!"
The Royal Guards behind him remained motionless. Tyrion, the Gnome, approached Varian and sneered:
"I'm sorry, King Varian, do you remember that Doomsayers? You should have believed him. Now you're just like Doomsayers; no one will speak up for you."
Varian, pale-faced, murmured, "We only have thirty thousand soldiers."
Tyrion the Gnome sighed regretfully:
"Your King, you should send the 50,000 returning soldiers into Orgrimmar instead of Southshore. This would temporarily alleviate the Orcs' food supply problem."
Varian's head was buzzing, and he felt a sudden dizziness.
The Peace Dove continued the royal lineage of Stormwind City, but at a price: they ultimately served the Orcs.
Garrosh quietly circled behind Varian and delivered a powerful punch to the back of his head.
Varian was suddenly struck hard, and everything went black before his eyes. Before he could react, Garrosh was right in front of him, punching Varian in the face.
Poor Varian was sent flying, his back slamming heavily against the wall. His whole body ached as if being torn apart. Garrosh clenched his fists and punched Varian in the face again and again.
"Poor Your King, don't you understand your predicament?"
Garrosh lifted the heavily wounded King Varian as if he were carrying a pile of garbage:
"Now I'll give you a chance. If even one person in this room objects, I'll let you go back so we can fight fairly on the Battlefield."
Although the Castle was mostly filled with Stormwind City's Royal Guards and there weren't many Orcs soldiers, everyone wisely kept quiet, just like they had done with the Doomsayers.
Garrosh grinned widely:
"Look, a fair decision. Now lay down your soldiers' weapons and tell them that being eaten by Orcs is an honor, just like Tirion Fordring did. Or, you choose to die here in obscurity, the Stormwind City royal line ending here, the lives of thirty thousand soldiers and your own—what is your choice?"
Tyrion Gnome a King decree ordering the soldiers to lay down their weapons and placed it in front of Varian.
Varian, whose head had been beaten into a pig's head, was terrified and hurriedly signed his name on it, then personally stamped it with the King's seal.
Garrosh laughed heartily, "Wise King, you have made a wise choice. My Shaman will heal you soon. Only with your personal intervention will those soldiers lay down their weapons, and the Alliance and Horde will once again join hands to save Azeroth."