Velen's face was pale, and although he tried his best to hide it, he still showed a little panic when he heard about the power of souls.
This scene, witnessed by Wrathion, prompted him to say angrily:
"There is no Demons in your heart, it's just a lie. Every now and then you have to slaughter the innocent because you need to practice this Evil secret technique. The souls of the killers are absorbed to nourish the power within you."
Velen's face was grim as he raised his staff once more.
"Fool! My reputation is impeccable. I am Velen paragon of virtue, a universally acknowledged Great Prophet, revered by all. You dare to tarnish my reputation? If I kill you and Anduin together, no one will know my secret."
Velen stopped using Holy Light, and his staff emitted beams of pale white light.
These lights, like ghosts, had distorted facial features at their front ends and emitted terrifying howls as they flew in all directions.
The light penetrated the corpses of the Jinyu villagers, who staggered to their feet, white mist billowing from their mouths and noses, struggling as they slowly approached Wrathion.
It wasn't Undead magic, but a strange spiritual power. The corpse opened its mouth and spat out gray chains that intertwined to form a large net.
Velen stood in the center of the web, like an old spider, as the web gradually tightened, and chains coiled around Wrathion.
"If I'm not mistaken," Wrathion said uncertainly.
"This must be Corrupted Holy Light. Light and Darkness are interconnected, and the ultimate Holy Light can also, like Undead magic, bring corpses back to life. That's why the Naaru feed on souls."
Velen laughed provocatively:
"You will soon understand how terrifying the Corrupted Holy Light is. In order to cultivate this ultimate power, I have to feed them my soul to prevent myself from being corrupted."
A sweet fragrance wafted through the air, causing Wrathion to frown slightly. This meant that even the air was being corroded, a powerful form of corrosion far more terrifying than the darkness itself.
More and more gray chains coiled around Wrathion, and Velen's expression grew increasingly smug, as if watching a caged bird struggle in vain. Wrathion pondered, then whispered:
"I'm looking for the best solution, and hmm, this method is good."
A dark Flame gathered in Wrathion's hand, like a beacon in the darkness.
Beneath the earth, water flowed gently, and the souls of the Jinyu floated out, drawn by the dark Flames, and willingly walked into Velen's great net.
In the dense forest filled with the scent of camphor, countless Hozen spirits emerged from the decaying branches and leaves, squealing and leaping about as they approached the dark Flames.
More and more souls entered the Jinyu's village. As soon as these souls approached the gray chains, they screamed as if burned, but still stubbornly walked towards the black Flames.
The large net formed by the gray chains could not bear the weight, and the Jinyu undead that served as its carrier could not move forward. The Corruptive Power was consumed by countless souls, and when these souls approached the black Flames, they burned like moths to a flame.
The burning souls danced joyfully, like maidens at a ball; more and more souls ignited, forming a black flame.
The gray chains grew increasingly dim and flickering, as if they could ignite at any moment.
Velen's face was deathly pale. These chains seemed to have some connection to him. He said with a pained expression, "Wrathion, the Harbinger, we can talk. So you're a Soul Master. You should know that the souls of the Draenei are among the most powerful in the universe."
Wrathion asked curiously, "Velen, how many Draenei souls are you willing to give up?"
Velen said ingratiatingly, "Very many. I raise the Draenei like livestock. Whenever their numbers exceed a certain threshold, I conduct a harvest, usually in the name of the Burning Legion, and most recently in the name of the Orcs. The Orcs need the flesh and blood of the Draenei, while I need their souls. Aside from offering them as tribute to the Naaru, I can keep one-fifth of them."
Wrathion held up one finger. "The souls of a million Draenei."
"No problem," Velen readily agreed, "As long as you extinguish these Flames."
"One condition," Wrathion asked bluntly.
Why did you lead the Draenei into the Azeroth? What is your purpose? If you want to escape, Azeroth is not a good choice.
Velen hesitated for a long time, then realized he couldn't lie to Wrathion and honestly replied:
"I am doing this for the sake of human souls. I secretly support the Orcs and help them conquer all of Azeroth. The Orcs will raise humans like livestock. I need human souls, and the Orcs need flesh and blood. It's a win-win situation."
Wrathion, somewhat puzzled, "Human souls are ordinary; why would they interest you?"
Velen's expression stiffened, seemingly worried about the Holy Light's reprimand, and he said uneasily:
"Humans can receive the Holy Light and have an excellent affinity for Holy Light, which means they are among the best food sources, second only to the Draenei. However, the Draenei have a very low reproductive rate. In comparison, Blood Elves are far inferior to humans. When the Naaru learned that the Blood Elves could receive the Holy Light, they did not seek revenge on them because they were also food."
Wrathion sighed, "The law of the jungle, the eternal law of the universe. Velen, you should know that humanity's ancestors were the Vrykul, Vrykul were originally Titan-forged."
Velen stared blankly at Wrathion, completely bewildered.
Wrathion declared resolutely, "Humans are my relatives, and I will never allow outsiders to bully my relatives. Die, Velen, and perish with your ambition!"
Black Flames roared, igniting all the souls, and the gray-white chains were finally set ablaze. The Flames spread along the chains, quickly engulfing the entire network.
Velen stood in the center of the net, unable to move, his face deathly pale.
"Velen, how does the Soul Fire taste?" Wrathion asked with a smile.
To prevent the Soul Fire from engulfing him, Velen had to sever his connection with the chains. A look of humiliation crossed his face as he roared in fury:
"You destroyed everything. You wiped out my millennia of effort. I had the chance to become Naaru. You damned Harbinger, I curse you."
Velen desperately gathered Holy Light, his face contorted in pain, as the powerful Holy Light converged on him, rapidly compressing into a bright sphere of light.
Wrathion's face turned pale with horror. Realizing that Velen was about to self-destruct, he hurriedly retreated while simultaneously conjuring up defensive spells to withstand the attack.
The sphere of light shone as brightly as the sun, and from within came Velen's voice. "Prince Anduin, at the Vermilion Bird Temple, Wrathion abandoned you to the Orcs."
Damn it.
Wrathion cursed, and a black spear materialized in his hand.
Unfortunately, it was all over. With a loud bang, Velen, enveloped in Holy Light, soared into the sky. He was so fast that he left a long tail, streaking across the sky like a shooting star.
Wrathion stood with his hands behind his back, gazing in the direction Velen had fled, lost in thought.
Anduin struggled to his feet, walked to Wrathion, and asked in a low voice:
Is what Velen said true?
Wrathion didn't even turn his head. "It's true. Otherwise, how would you know Velen's true colors? You cast the Guardian Angel; the Holy Light won't let you go. Only by throwing you to the Orcs will you have any hope of survival. You know why."
"The Holy Light fears the Orcs," Anduin nodded.