In the basement of Silvermoon City, M'uru's condition was somewhat abnormal.
Ordinary Naaru emit a white light, and the brighter the light, the stronger they are.
M'uru emitted a faint crimson glow.
Around M'uru, a dozen Blood Elves were draining M'uru energy.
Red lines entered the bodies of the Blood Elf knights, causing them to sway and their eyes to gradually turn ferocious.
This can alleviate the Blood Elves ' Mana Addiction and allow them to use the crimson Holy Light, but what the side effects might be is unknown.
Fearing potential risks, Lor'themar and his two companions refused to extract M'uru's energy.
Lor'themar and his two companions went to the basement and knelt before M'uru.
"Great Holy Light, are you well?"
M'uru let out a soft burp, the energy extraction making him feel comfortable, and he made a gentle sound:
"Back when the Orcs slaughtered the Draenei, I indulged in too much Draenei souls and suffered from indigestion. But it's alright, I've transferred all the Draenei's malevolent energy to you, you'll recover soon. May the Holy Light and the Blood Elves be one."
Countess Liadrin said respectfully, "Holy Light, please guide us."
Archmage Rommath raised his head and said, "The Evil Prince Kael'thas is returning. What should we do?"
"Kael'thas is a fool," M'uru sneered rudely. "The Orcs are the masters of Azeroth. You should join the Horde and kneel at Thrall's feet."
Lor'themar whispered, "But the Orcs slaughtered Silvermoon City; we have a blood feud with Orcs."
M'uru replied bluntly, "Don't worry, Thrall is kind and just, and will never hold grudges from the past. Let bygones be bygones."
The three of them felt uneasy after hearing this, as if Thrall's failure to exterminate the Blood Elves was an act of mercy.
Lor'themar tentatively asked, "Sylvanas is urging us to join the Elf Alliance —a three-way alliance of Blood Elves, Night Elves, Forsaken."
"What?! How can this be?" M'uru roared in fury. "This is blatant betrayal! Everyone who opposes Thrall deserves to die!"
Liadrin could no longer hold back and stubbornly declared, "What we need is fairness."
"Joining the Horde is the greatest fairness." M'uru said impatiently, "The future is already determined. The Army of the Light and the Burning Legion both support Thrall, Elune, favors Thrall. You are merely insignificant beings like ants. How can you stop the irresistible tide of history? Those who oppose Thrall will surely be annihilated."
The three of them, Lor'themar, exchanged glances, having probed the resolve of the Army of the Light through this conversation.
"This isn't fair! Why is Thrall being given more attention?" Liadrin protested.
"Because the Orcs led by Thrall will surely save Azeroth." M'uru grew increasingly agitated. "The Army of the Light and the Burning Legion are farsighted, and Elune, is all-knowing and all-powerful. Their vision transcends time and space, seeing far beyond your reach. Many things are predestined, unstoppable, and indefensible; only obedience is possible, and those who defy will die."
The three looked dejected and somewhat helpless after hearing this.
M'uru's guidance is infallible; it is tantamount to revealing divine secrets.
The three returned to the Throne Room dejectedly, and Lor'themar ultimately made the decision.
Reject Sylvanas and join the Horde.
Lor'themar appointed Rommath as a diplomat to enter Orgrimmar and negotiate with Thrall.
Shattrath City, Scryers' Platform.
The Scryers leader, the Prophet Voren'thal, secretly plotted with his eyes closed.
As Prophet among the Blood Elves, Voren'thal was always shrewd and insightful, seeing further than others.
For example, he calculated that following Kael'thas was a dead end, Outland would inevitably belong to the Army of the Light.
So he abandoned Kael'thas without hesitation and joined the Shattrath Alliance.
With the support of Shattrath City, Voren'thal was confident he could deal with Kael'thas; in his eyes, Kael'thas was just a child.
The reason he proposed to A'dal to unite the forces of the Alliance and the Horde was actually just to curry favor with one person: Thrall.
The future of the Blood Elves is inextricably linked to the Horde; their only way out is to join the Horde.
Capturing Tempest Keep would be a great gift for Thrall, a tremendous achievement that Thrall would surely accept with delight.
Voren'thal, a meticulous thinker who had considered every detail, slowly opened his eyes.
Gathering his four most trusted disciples, Voren'thal opened Portal to Azeroth.
Out of respect for Thrall, Voren'thal did not teleport directly to Orgrimmar, but instead teleported to Ratchet first.
Then, he bribed Eitrigg, Thrall's most trusted advisor, explained his purpose, and awaited Thrall's summons.
That noon, Eitrigg prepared Thrall's lunch early: fifty Tauren and Pandaren, plus a Furbolg and three Murlocs as a side dish.
Seeing that Thrall was in a good mood, Eitrigg, who was good at reading people, saw this as an opportunity and briefly introduced Voren'thal.
"Shattrath City, the Scryers?" Thrall asked curiously, chewing on the Tauren's heart.
"Blood Elves are a bunch of useless trash. We almost wiped them out back then. Are there any survivors?"
Eitrigg said ingratiatingly, "There are currently nearly 100,000 Blood Elves active in Azeroth, and about 20,000 in Outland."
Thrall was startled. "120,000 Blood Elves! This is a major threat to us! What is Voren'thal trying to do?"
Having accepted the gift, Eitrigg naturally had to speak up for Voren'thal:
"Great Savior, when the Orcs slaughtered Silvermoon City, the Blood Elves were worried that you would hold a grudge, so they went out of their way to curry favor with you. This is a great achievement."
Thrall pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Interesting. Summon Voren'thal to see me."
Voren'thal was in high spirits and led his four disciples into the chieftain's tent.
A stench of blood filled the air; the corpses of Tauren and Pandaren were everywhere, blood flowing freely, like a Slaughterhouse.
Judging from the wounds on the corpse, Thrall only ate the flesh from the tip of the heart, Voren'thal immediately felt uneasy.
How cruel this is!
According to Azeroth media reports, Thrall was kind and benevolent, and his daily diet consisted of very simple meals: hard bread and a cup of Fresh Water. He was a moral exemplar for both the Alliance and the Horde.
It must be said that these false reports influenced Voren'thal's judgment.
Amidst a pile of corpses, Thrall stood up and walked towards them with a fake smile.
"Welcome to Orgrimmar, Voren'thal of Sha'tar."
Thrall suddenly attacked, grabbing one of Voren'thal's disciples and biting off his neck.
Voren'thal felt a jolt in his heart, reminding himself that he must be patient, for as the saying goes, those who achieve great things must make sacrifices.
Thrall devoured his disciple's flesh and blood, laughing heartily and boasting:
"I still remember when I breached Silvermoon City, I devoured Anastria Kingdom of Quel'Thalas Sunstrider. He tasted incredibly delicious, and his pitiful screams still echo in my ears. I ate him for three days and three nights. You Blood Elves are only fit to be food for Orcs."
Voren'thal forced a smile, barely suppressing his anger.
"It is an honor for us Blood Elves to become food for the great Savior."
Thrall nodded, grinning maliciously, "Prophet Voren'thal, would you be willing to be eaten by me?"
Voren'thal's expression froze.