After some haggling, the Horde obtained ships for their westward journey, but they had to immediately start logging and mining, with the value calculated at half the market price.
In addition, they were allowed to establish a camp in a small bay, completely surrounded by Alliance watchtowers for supervision.
They would be free to leave only when the resources had been extracted.
Though somewhat humiliating, this would result in fewer deaths than fighting the Alliance for ships.
Weighing the pros and cons, Thrall, the Warchief, ultimately agreed.
Another point of negotiation concerned the Warsong Clan, who had been arrested but not killed for attacking an Alliance camp.
Releasing them directly was not realistic, so the Warsong Clan had to atone for their sins.
As it happened, there was a need to travel north to investigate the plague, during which they would encounter the undead Scourge, making the Warsong Clan excellent expendable resources.
Amidst the dispute between the two sides, Arthas proposed a duel of honor that the orcs could not refuse.
If they won, all debts would be forgiven, but if they lost, not to mention being enslaved, they would have to dutifully atone for their sins.
'Side Quest Updated: Blood and Honor.'
'Quest Objective: Duel Grom Hellscream in the presence of Alliance generals and Horde chieftains, and emerge victorious.'
'Quest Reward: Randomly acquire an unlearned blademaster hero basic skill.'
This was a great reward!
Never lost a one-on-one, never feared a group fight.
Thrall spoke to Grom, who nodded with a solemn expression.
In the open space of the Alliance camp, under the watchful eyes of Admiral Daelin, Fordring, Sylvanas, and others, the duel began.
Thrall, ever so cunning, announced the duel rules: the fight would end when one party died or surrendered.
Given Grom's temperament, he would rather die in battle than surrender.
Looking at the orc hero, who was two sizes larger than him, Arthas noticed that despite Grom wielding an axe, he was a genuine blademaster!
A blademaster with an axe, that's perfectly reasonable, right?
"Kid, I'm going to tear you apart! orcs will never be slaves!"
"Unless payment and benefits are included?"
Pfft!
Sylvanas couldn't help but let out a laugh, quickly composing herself, but her crescent-moon eyes and slightly upturned lips clearly showed she was stifling a giggle.
This prince was truly amusing!
Unconsciously, she had grown accustomed to being with him; seemingly reckless, yet very methodical, only later would she suddenly realize how profound his foresight was!
What a pity, high elves have lifespans measured in thousands of years, while humans only live for a mere century.
This disparity in lifespan destined that humans and elves could not achieve marriage; by the time the human aged, the Elf companion would still be young, separated by life and death, the grief would cause a long-lasting ache.
In Azeroth, there were countless ways to extend one's lifespan, it just depended on whether one desired it.
Whether it was the blessing of the Star Soul or the blessing of the Red dragon Queen, both could significantly extend life, even approaching immortality.
How did the night elves achieve immortality?
Wasn't it through blessings!
So, lifespan truly wasn't an issue; setting aside other examples, even the prophet Medivh, who appeared at the beginning to deliver warnings, had a mother who lived for over a thousand years and still looked no different from a young woman in her prime.
Those who found lifespan extension difficult simply lacked vision and capability.
"You brat, I'll tear you apart!"
Grom roared, activating Bladestorm, concealing his figure and achieving invisibility through light refraction.
This made Sylvanas's heart tighten; she certainly didn't want anything to happen to the prince!
Arthas sneered, snapped his fingers, and the nearby magic watchtowers activated.
These watchtowers didn't have strong offensive power, not even as good as arrow towers, but their core function was surveillance and revealing hidden units.
Grom looked quite comical; he had stealthily tried to sneak up and cleave his opponent with an axe, only to be revealed the next second.
"You're cheating!"
Arthas beckoned him with a finger, mockingly taunting.
"If you're bad, practice more. If you can't lose, don't play. Thrall said you're a good fighter, but what good is being a just good fighter!"
"Ah! I'll kill you!"
These two sentences completely stripped Grom of his reason; if he had a brain, he wouldn't be an orc.
Under the effect of Bladestorm, he leaped, covering a distance of seven or eight meters, and brought his axe down with both hands.
Arthas deftly dodged, swinging his arms in circles, unleashing a flurry of attacks.
Each Bash dealt low damage.
Grom didn't care at all, but just as he was about to swing his axe in retaliation, a wave of dizziness came over him, and his body stiffened.
Bash!
Every Bash could stun an opponent, forcing even the strongest enemies to stand still.
Each hit didn't do much damage, only a few points, but the speed was incredible!
Six hammers per second was not the limit; he was just afraid that swinging too fast would make it hard for Sylvanas to see.
The prince's kindness was endless!
Each time it triggered, the Bash experience bar would increase a little.
Such a perfect punching bag was truly rare.
Thus, a comical scene unfolded in the arena: Grom stood in place as if having a seizure, letting Arthas hammer him.
He couldn't even resist; his previous leaping chop was cool, but that was all it was, cool for a moment.
Mirror Image couldn't be used, Critical Strike couldn't trigger; he was incredibly frustrated!
By the end, Arthas simply threw away his golden gourd hammer and started punching.
The attack power was even lower, but it made it easier to grind experience!
A holy light descended, healing muscle fatigue and strains.
Not long after, another holy light descended, this time to heal Grom!
Thrall couldn't understand why; who heals an enemy?
Fordring, on the other hand, nodded, and even the usually silent man couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.
"Prince Arthas is benevolent and not blinded by hatred. Lordaeron is blessed, the Alliance is blessed!"
Mograine and Admiral Daelin, however, exchanged glances, both feeling a sense of satisfaction, and a hint of cruelty?
Heal the orc, then beat him to severe injury again, then heal, then beat!
You call this mercy?
Even Daelin couldn't help but wipe his sweat; this future son-in-law seemed even more ruthless than him.
On the surface, he was a benevolent prince, but when he acted, he was quite dark!
Ruthless!
Showing off? I'll make you fly!
Only Sylvanas's expression was a bit strange; she didn't understand why Arthas was doing this, but there must be a deep meaning behind it.
This prince was truly merciless!
But somehow, such a dark heart didn't repulse her; instead, there was a hint of liking?
She gently shook her head; human lifespans were still too short, and a ranger-general was difficult to marry off; the rules wouldn't allow it!
The duel lasted a full two hours, ending with Grom's surrender.
He was already somewhat afraid; not afraid of his opponent being strong, but afraid of his opponent being terrifyingly strong and also acting like a hooligan!
Sacrificing attack power for attack speed, pursuing stable control, beating someone up while also gaining experience, a genius idea!
It was just a bit tiring; his arms were almost numb!