M'uru floated in the air, below him Thrall's rotting corpse, its perfectly preserved and delicious soul tempting him.
Unfortunately, he didn't dare; he lacked the courage.
"What does this have to do with Thrall?" M'uru feigned ignorance.
"You think I don't know what you're thinking?" A'dal's image sneered. "You have a reason for bewitching the Blood Elves to join the Horde: it's because you know Thrall is colluding with the Burning Legion, and you want to get on Thrall's good side, secretly cooperate with the Legion, or even join the Burning Legion."
M'uru retorted, "You're allied with the Legion, so why can't I?"
"You're so naive," A'dal mocked. "Just because I can do something doesn't mean you can. You're the Army of the Light's top genius; countless eyes are on you."
"I've had enough of being called a genius," M'uru said indignantly. "I rose to prominence as a genius, making countless contributions to the Army of the Light, but what have I received in return? I've remained the lowest-ranking Naaru, with no hope of advancement. Meanwhile, you, a piece of trash, keep making mistakes, yet you've been promoted continuously. Your rank is thirteen thousand levels higher than mine."
A'dal laughed, "Putting you at the bottom is a test for you."
"The test, the test that has lasted for five million years, I've had enough. Look at your thick resume, what is there besides stupidity and failure? I've wasted my time working under you, you piece of trash, busy as Kobold, my record of achievements is dazzling, but I have no chance of promotion. To hell with your test."
"That's right, I was just messing with you." A'dal laughed smugly. "Don't talk about five million years, ten million years, a hundred million years, until the universe is destroyed, you will never have a chance to advance. You will be tested forever. You have finally made a mistake. How many people in the Army of the Light want to kill you? Do you want to live? An opportunity is placed in front of you."
A'dal coldly said, "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. As long as you devour Thrall's soul, you can get the promotion you've always wanted, a position even higher than mine. To be honest, I'm extremely jealous of you for giving me this chance. But I'm not worried. Deep down, you're just a piece of trash. I bet you won't dare."
After a long silence, M'uru slowly said, "You're right, I don't have the guts. I'm just a piece of trash."
"You'd rather die for Thrall, wouldn't you?" A'dal laughed wildly. "History has already proven that all those who help Thrall deserve to die, and you're no exception."
A'dal's image disappeared, laughing.
M'uru put Lor'themar down, then suddenly sensed something. Dark light enveloped Thrall's corpse. He handed it to Lor'themar and said nervously:
"Quickly, escort our Savior away from here!"
Lor'themar was puzzled. Suddenly, a piercing alarm sounded in Silvermoon City, signaling an invasion by foreign enemies.
"It's Kael'thas," M'uru warned. "I'll send you and the Savior away now; Kael'thas is my problem."
M'uru opened a Void portal, and Lor'themar, along with his followers, hurriedly fled with Thrall.
The Blood Elves under Lor'themar's rule were weak in combat, and Kael'thas easily broke through Silvermoon City's defenses.
Upon seeing M'uru floating in the air, Kael'thas frowned immediately; it wasn't what he had expected.
"Looks like I'm late, M'uru," Kael'thas said regretfully. "Where is Thrall?"
"The Savior has gone to a very safe place," M'uru replied, his condition poor and he dared not be presumptuous.
"Your name is Thrall, the Savior." Kael'thas gave a wry smile. "Don't you know that Thrall intends to be resurrected through the Sunwell?"
"Kael'thas," M'uru's voice was quite serious, "You're just an ordinary mortal, you don't understand how important Thrall is, and that's not your fault. You need to travel more and see more of the world."
Robbie looked at M'uru floating in the sky and sneered, "A'dal is right, you're about to die."
"I am the great Naaru, who can kill me? You think you can? I'm only here to warn you not to oppose the Savior."
Seeing the Ethereal Mech of Tempest Keep right behind Kael'thas, M'uru felt incredibly frustrated. If he were at his peak, even ten Ethereal Mech wouldn't be a match for him.
"Kael'thas, your existence is a threat to the Savior, so die."
As soon as he finished speaking, M'uru made his move without warning, black light condensing into a long spear that flew towards Kael'thas.
Having completed the spell, M'uru was severely exhausted and immediately became weak. He opened a Void portal in preparation for his escape.
Unexpectedly, the Void gate suddenly shattered, and M'uru lunged at nothing. At the same time, his black spear was blocked by a golden light shield.
"Impossible, my Shadow Impact is indestructible."
Robbie was the one who secretly made the move; Kael'thas was completely bewildered, utterly unaware that he was on the verge of death.
The Ethereal Mech stepped forward and easily defeated the heavily injured M'uru.
"Take him to the Sunwell Plateau," Robbie suggested. "This Naaru is still somewhat useful."
Kael'thas was overjoyed to have reclaimed Silvermoon City, but when he stepped into the streets, he was met with the resentful gazes of the people.
The old people on the street looked at Kael'thas like he was an enemy, the young men and women looked at him with hostility, and the children threw stones at him and spat at him.
"Why is this?" Kael'thas couldn't understand. "It was Lor'themar who harmed Silvermoon City and slaughtered countless civilians, so why do the people see me as an enemy?"
Kael'thas's four advisors exchanged glances and gave each other wry smiles.
Robbie stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder. "There's usually only one reason for this: Lor'themar killed someone, and you didn't."
Kael'thas was even more confused, looking completely bewildered.
Robbie sighed and explained, "The people fear Lor'themar. If they show you friendliness, they will all be killed once Lor'themar returns."
Kael'thas slapped his forehead forcefully. "So that's how it is. Then how can I win back the hearts of the people? How about adopting a policy of appeasement?"
Baron Sanguinar, one of the four advisors, shook his head and said:
"Prince Highness, it's no use. The friendlier you appear, the more they fear Lor'themar. When Lor'themar returns, the people will only help Lor'themar drive you away."
The fourth advisor, Capernian, added, "Lor'themar is a ruthless devil, and you are an innocent lamb. Choosing the devil to drive out the lamb is the choice of the people of Silvermoon City."
Kael'thas, his face contorted with grief, cried out, "Isn't there any way to win back the people's hearts?"
"Of course there is a way," said the fourth advisor, the Desecrator Saladre, in a cold voice. "Turning the pages of history reveals countless tyrants; that's the answer. As long as you act more ruthless than Lor'themar, the people will stand by your side, serve you, and see you as the Guardian of Silvermoon City."
Kael'thas closed his eyes, shook his head with a wry smile:
"Alright, I see. Lor'themar is more suited to rule Silvermoon City than I am. I'm resigning."
Unwilling to harm the people, Kael'thas had no choice but to abandon Silvermoon City and temporarily reside on the Magisters' Terrace in the eastern part of Isle of Quel'Danas.
Lor'themar received the news and returned to Silvermoon City from the Sunwell.
Another bloody massacre ensued, with 20,000 citizens of Silvermoon City being hung on wooden poles.
The people dared not weep, dared not show their sorrow; they could only praise loudly.