King Varian sat on his throne, listless and dispirited, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness, his expression quite gloomy.
Elune, was extremely cunning. Varian's memories were altered, erasing all recollections of the Parallel Worlds, leaving him unaware of his true origins.
The overwhelming flood of memories crammed into Varian's mind caused him immense distress.
Varian felt incredibly foolish and naive to have fought for the Orcs time and time again, like an idiot being used by Thrall.
"Why are we using the entire nation's resources to attack the Lich King? Did I get trampled on by Kodo?"
"Why sacrifice innocent soldiers to help Thrall and Sylvanas reclaim Undercity, and they don't even appreciate it? My brain must have been trampled by ten thousand Kodos, and they even left a pile of shit on it."
Varian felt a deep sense of remorse and also a sense of unease.
Despite the ongoing war, Stormwind City and Elwynn Forest should have been nearly wiped out, yet they remained prosperous and peaceful, as if war had never touched them.
Meanwhile, a large number of refugees appeared in Westfall, claiming to have fled there from Elwynn Forest and Stormwind City. Varian secretly sent people to investigate, but could not find out their origins.
Something's wrong with this world.
Once he calmed down, Varian began to have doubts.
Varian longed to talk to someone, but everyone around him was just as lost as Varian. The confusion of ordinary people is fleeting; they are quickly overwhelmed by the pressures of life and have no time to think.
This made Varian feel utterly helpless, as if he were in the depths of a dark ocean, with everything around him pressing down on him, making it hard for him to breathe.
The first glimpse of Jaina was like seeing a ray of light in the darkness, or a drowning person grasping at a straw.
Jaina used Charm Magic, but what attracted Varian was not only Jaina's charm, but also her strong confidence, as if a wise man stood before Varian.
"Varian, I can see you have many questions in your mind," Jaina said politely.
"I don't understand, what's wrong with this world?" Varian clutched his head in anguish.
"The Orcs destroyed Stormwind City and slaughtered countless people. Garona killed my father. In Lordaeron, everyone knows that Thrall smashed King Terenas's head. The Orcs ate the High Elves of Silvermoon City and colluded with the Burning Legion to massacre Dalaran. It was also Thrall dug out the brain of your mentor, High Archmage Antonidas."
Jaina sighed, "Your King, your heart is blinded by hatred. For an ordinary person, this may not matter. But when you sit on the throne, you should understand that this world has no love, no hate, no Justice, no Evil; there is only the exchange of interests. Might makes Justice. You have to pay the price for what you want."
Varian roared in anguish, "But what have I gained?"
Jaina shrugged regretfully and said, "King Majesty, you have been bewitched by the Twilight's Hammer and lost your royal heart. Now I will help you regain it."
Varian gazed at Jaina with eager anticipation, like a terminally ill patient meeting a miracle cure.
Jaina said calmly, "Your ideal has always been to achieve great things, to be remembered in history, to become the greatest King in human history, and to be admired by future generations."
Varian hesitated for a moment, then immediately nodded. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm looking for."
Jaina found it amusing; every Varian was the same. She continued to advise, "Your King, you must understand that the greatest enemy of your ideals is the people. Some Kings can bring peace and prosperity to their people, free from war and famine, but what do they gain in return? Posterity will only say that this King was mediocre, incompetent, unambitious, and even cowardly."
Varian thought for a moment, scenes from historical records flashing through his mind, and nodded, saying, "That's right."
Jaina's eyes flickered, her face contorted, making her appear as ferocious as Dreadlord.
"But if you allow wars to break out frequently, the people to die in droves, the land to be filled with corpses, the people to live in misery, and the land to be littered with bones, weeping in endless pain, regretting that they were born human, with only one in ten people surviving and countless innocent souls in the kingdom, then future generations will praise you for being great, dignified, indomitable, and a great and unparalleled wise ruler."
Varian bit his lip. Although unwilling to accept it, he was, after all, a King. His imperial upbringing made him aware that the historical records were lies, and he nodded helplessly.
"It's incredibly cruel, but that's how history is."
Jaina smiled sweetly, "Your King, do you still have any questions?"
Varian let out a long sigh, "Let me think about it. Perhaps you're right. Damn it, why should I care about the lives of those common people? I'm destined to be a wise and benevolent ruler for all time, and the royal line of Stormwind City must continue."
Jaina, slightly pleased, chuckled, "That's right, King Varian. Now, an opportunity to make a name for yourself is before you. Are you willing to fight for Azeroth?"
Varian stood up, looking much better. "Of course."
Jaina said solemnly, "Guardian Aegwynn has detected the stirrings of the elements. The volatile elementals intend to assassinate the great Savior Thrall at Mount Hyjal and destroy this world. Now, a great King is needed to stand up and fight for Thrall."
"But it was Thrall who was saved; after all, he was Orcs, the mortal enemy of humanity."
Varian couldn't overcome his inner conflict and hesitated.
Jaina continued her seductive plea, "Your King, don't you want to achieve great things? If Azeroth is destroyed, both humans and Orcs will perish."
Varian saw through Jaina's lie; the so-called destruction of the world was just an excuse.
But the allure of achieving great things and making a name for himself kept him from settling down. After much deliberation, he finally set aside his hatred and prejudice and made up his mind:
"Very well, let us fight for Azeroth, achieve great deeds, and make our names etched in history."
Mount Hyjal, the Ruins of Nordrassil, the World Tree.
Agna, dressed in a swimsuit, swam back and forth in the clear lake water, resembling a plump seal. Observing Thrall pacing along the shore, Agna asked curiously:
"Do you think this will work? Thrall, the Druid, and the Shaman joined forces to draw power from the World Tree, plunging the world into chaos!"
Thrall, his face contorted with rage, said smugly:
"With the participation of the Dragon Aspects, success is assured, after all, it was they who planted the World Tree. Although Nordrassil has collapsed, it contains Archimonde's boundless Power of Destruction, and I sensed that power lingering in the vicinity."
Agna lay on the shore, staring intently at the confident Thrall, and asked with great interest, "So what will you get, Thrall?"
Thrall chuckled, spread his arms wide, and proclaimed, "I will inherit Archimonde's Power of Destruction, and his desire to destroy the world. I am Archimonde, no, I will do even better Archimonde."