"Being eaten by Orcs is a great honor!"
The Prophet Velen did not speak lightly; his words have historical roots.
When Kil'jaeden discovered traces of the Draenei in Draenor, he did not send the Burning Legion's army directly, but instead painstakingly incited the Orcs to exterminate the Draenei.
Kil'jaeden's move was meant to tell Prophet Velen: Your decision back then was wrong. Without the protection of Fel, relying solely on the Holy Light, you couldn't even defeat the backward Orcs.
The Kil'jaeden the Deceiver wanted to see Velen forced to accept Fel for the sake of his people.
But no one expected Velen to be so stubborn, preferring to watch the Draenei be slaughtered by the Orcs and nearly wiped out rather than succumb to the temptation of Fel.
Velen emerged victorious in this duel, upholding his dignity.
Those Draenei who were eaten by the Orcs died for the free will of the Draenei, for the dignity of Velen; they died gloriously, they died nobly, it was an honor.
Velen, who has lived for countless years, can sacrifice his own people at will, but Muradin cannot; his heart is not hardened enough.
Moira knelt on the ground in agony as Velen destroyed her Flame powers.
Muradin couldn't bear it and secretly made up his mind: as long as Moira was alive, she could create more Flame Dwarves at any time. This was the Dwarf race's trump card, their last resort.
Not only must Moira be protected, but she must also continue to serve as the queen of the Dark Iron Dwarves.
Moira glared venomously at Velen, cursing, "You monster with a tail! You all deserve to die a horrible death! Sooner or later, the Burning Legion will capture you and subject you to endless torment. This is your retribution! Your son will kill you with his own hands, just like Jaina."
Velen was furious, his face contorted with rage. He hated it most when people talked about his son; it was a deep-seated thorn in his side. His anger made him forget Muradin's warning, and a large ball of Holy Light gathered in his palm.
"Ignorant Dwarf, you know no repentance! The Holy Light is merciful, but Holy Light will not tolerate Evil. Burn to ashes under its Holy Light!"
"Bang!"
A bright hammer smashed down on Velen's head. Muradin roared, "Prophet Velen, Ironforge is not a place for you to run wild! Get out, you tailed monster!"
The Dwarves present joined in the shouting.
"Get out, get out!"
"Incompetent and cowardly Draenei, get out of Azeroth! You are nothing but food for the Orcs, you are not worthy to be a member of the Alliance."
Velen's magic was forcibly stopped, Stormhammer nearly made him faint. The Dwarves immediately turned hostile, something he hadn't anticipated.
Varian shouted from the side, "We can leave Ironforge, but you must hand over Anduin. He is my son, and you have no right to detain him."
Velen finally remembered the purpose of his trip and hurriedly said, "I have no intention of being enemies with the Dwarves. Azeroth is in grave danger and we must find Prince Anduin. Dwarves, do not be stubborn. Hand over Anduin immediately, or you will face the consequences."
Muradin retorted stubbornly, "Velen, you need to take responsibility for your words. We have no idea about any Prince Anduin."
Falstad Wildhammer added, "I've never heard of Anduin. Varian is your son? You're quite the father."
Varian declared righteously, "For the sake of Azeroth, I am willing to sacrifice Anduin; it has nothing to do with you Dwarves."
Velen nodded approvingly. "King Varian a man of great wisdom and understanding, truly worthy of being the leader of the Alliance. Leave everything to me."
Velen narrowed his eyes, muttering to himself, "The omnipotent Holy Light guides me, causing Prince Anduin his own accord."
The bright Power of the Holy Light enveloped Velen once again, spreading out like ripples on Holy Light, quickly covering the entire Ironforge. After a short while, Velen opened his eyes and nodded.
A cry of grievance drifted from afar, and a bright Holy Light enveloped a young man who landed before the Prophet Velen. The lion mask on his head fell to the ground, revealing Anduin's terrified face.
"Prince Anduin, the Draenei never force anyone. Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for Azeroth?" Velen asked with a smile.
Enveloped in Holy Light Anduin wanted to refuse, but under the control of the Holy Light, he uttered, "It is my honor, for Azeroth."
Velen smiled with satisfaction, "What a good child."
Muradin wanted to stop him, but upon hearing Anduin's words and hearing the powerful Holy Light wielded by Velen, Muradin felt a deep fear and could only pretend he hadn't seen anything.
Moira screamed and lunged at Velen, tearing at his beard as she shouted, "I will take my revenge! I swear, you will die a horrible death!"
Velen, slightly embarrassed by the loss of several hairs in his beard, could only deflect Moira with Holy Light and say to Muradin, "The Orcs, led by the great Savior Thrall, are the only hope for this world. I hope you understand that without the Orcs, there is no Azeroth."
Having said that, Velen and King Varian left Ironforge. They talked all the way, and Velen looked at Varian with admiration and said:
"King Majesty, as the saying goes, one must sacrifice one's own family for the sake of all living beings. Azeroth is facing a crisis, and your ability to relinquish your father-son relationship with Anduin demonstrates a magnanimity unmatched by anyone."
Varian waved his hand and said, "I only did something insignificant for Azeroth."
Velen added, "Saving Azeroth is everyone's responsibility and duty. We can't delay any longer. I'll head to Theramore now and hand Anduin over to Jaina."
Having said that, Velen tore open a Teleportation Scroll and bid farewell to Varian.
Theramore.
Jaina, her face turning ashen with rage, glared at one of her subordinates. "Is everything in the intelligence true? If you dare utter even the slightest lie, I'll rip your tongue out!"
The poor subordinate trembled with fear. He was originally a low-ranking member of the Peace Dove. He had accidentally witnessed Prince Liam insulting Jaina, so he recorded it and reported it. Unexpectedly, Jaina summoned him to testify against him.
"Absolutely true," the subordinate stammered.
"I dared not conceal anything. Prince Liam spoke arrogantly, and I was right in front of him. However, some of his words were so offensive that I was too frightened to write them down."
"Tell me whatever Liam has to say, and you will be forgiven," Jaina asked, her face contorted in pain.
The subordinate whispered, "Prince Liam said you killed your own father and seduced Prince Kael'thas. Prince Arthas despises you."
"You've really had enough of living."
An icicle came flying straight at him, freezing his subordinate into an ice sculpture before shattering it with a crash.
"Prince Liam, this is your own fault, you have no one else to blame." Jaina began to think of a solution; she had to find a legitimate reason to kill Prince Liam.
She suddenly remembered Thrall's mission: Thrall needed a Prince as Vessel, and although Prince Anduin was designated, Liam was also a Prince.
Jaina's lips curled into a chilling smile as she muttered viciously to herself, "Liam, it seems I have no choice but to use you in Anduin to save Azeroth."