After leaving the Arakkoa Hut, the three of them each had their own thoughts.
Vol'jin declared righteously, "Finding the Eye of Anzu is a mission entrusted to us by the great Savior Thrall; we will complete it even at the cost of our lives."
Cairne, with an air of righteous indignation, said, "Indeed, the Eye of Anzu is related to the safety of all Azeroth, and we absolutely cannot be careless."
Griftah found it amusing to himself.
Thrall sought the Eye of Anzu in order to locate the Shard of the Moon Goddess's Hand.
Vol'jin and Cairne each had a chance to receive the prophecy, but both clearly ignored Thrall's mission and indulged their own selfish desires.
At the foot of the mountains north of Skettis, Vol'jin took out a Magic Beacon.
The Magic Beacon flashed, and shortly afterward, a Portal opened.
Archmage Rommath of Silvermoon City stepped out of the Portal, bowing obsequiously to Vol'jin.
"Have you determined the coordinates of this continent?" Vol'jin asked coldly.
Rommath said ingratiatingly, "It's confirmed. You can trust me to handle things."
A dozen or so Silvermoon City mages emerged from the Portal, followed by a large Goblins who brought various precious magical artifacts in preparation for building a permanent Portal.
"Send me to Mag'har Post in Hellfire Peninsula. It's time for the Mag'har Orcs to fight to save Outland," Vol'jin ordered.
At Mag'har Post, Gorkan Bloodfist was leisurely enjoying his lunch.
Ever since the Ancestral Spirit Gormash fabricated the Battle of the Black Temple, the Mag'har Orcs have enthusiastically signed up to participate, donating money and supplies, and the sentry guards have all made a fortune.
Gormash wanted were souls, so Ger'kan ordered his men to process the Mag'har Orcs into Tough Jerky and sell it at a low price in Orgrimmar.
Since Thrall's return, he has become even more enthusiastic about this matter, and has sent a professional Troll team to take charge of the slaughter.
The Troll team was extremely efficient; in less than half a month, 150,000 Mag'har Orcs were slaughtered.
Gerkan's wealth has grown rapidly, and he's already enjoying Mulgore beef and Pandaria panda meat.
Gorkan Bloodfist initially felt guilty, but quickly became indifferent.
If he doesn't do this kind of thing, someone else will take his place.
Dozens of mangled corpses hung from the fence of Mag'har Post, their deaths gruesome.
Every time he passed by and saw these corpses, Gerkan felt deep regret.
Gerkan's Adjutant, a righteous, courageous, and resourceful young Orcs, full of youthful vigor, wanted to expose this hypocritical lie.
The Adjutant was very clever. Instead of acting immediately, he carefully gathered evidence and won over several well-known figures who shared his beliefs.
Gerkan saw all of this, but neither supported nor opposed it.
When everything was ready, at a rally in front of the crowd, the Adjutant threw the evidence at Gormash's face.
Faced with the questioning of the Adjutant and elders, and the impeccable chain of evidence, the Ancestral Spirit Gormash stammered and could not utter a word.
Unfortunately, the Adjutant was too naive; he underestimated the Mag'har Orcs' sense of honor.
The crowd was enraged and picked up stones to kill the Adjutant and his supporters. Their bodies were hung on the guard post as a warning to others.
From then on, no one dared to interfere in the matter, and Gerkan hurriedly distanced himself from his Adjutant.
This is not surprising. The Mag'har value honor too much; the Battle of the Black Temple is their spiritual pillar, so they won't care about any evidence.
Whenever the generals of the Black Temple are slain by the valiant Mag'har warriors, the people erupt in jubilation.
Anyone who dares to oppose all of this is an enemy of the entire Mag'har Orcs, and is unforgivable.
This is a fabricated lie, one that the Mag'har Orcs are so deeply immersed in that they cannot extricate themselves.
For the Mag'har Orcs, the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands is nothing in the face of the desire for spiritual pleasure and pride.
Unfortunately, the Black Temple will eventually be "defeated," and besides, the Ancestral Spirit Gormash isn't so enthusiastic about it anymore.
There are simply too many souls; the Ancestral Spirit cannot digest them all at this time.
It is foreseeable that the Mag'har Orcs, who have used all their savings, will find it difficult to survive this winter, and large numbers of Mag'har Orcs will freeze and starve to death in villages.
"What does it have to do with me? This is everyone's choice." Gorkan Bloodfist comforted himself as he ate the delicious beef.
"It's time to end the Battle of the Black Temple."
Gerkan began to think about how to make Illidan's death tragic and moving, while also leaving enough suspense.
A glorious and great war, with countless brilliant generals and many moving heroic deeds, will surely be recorded in history for future generations to admire.
Some people took the opportunity to make a fortune, while the public gained psychological satisfaction; it was a win-win situation.
Gerkan finished a glass of red wine, burping contentedly, when suddenly, in a flash, Vol'jin appeared before him.
"Look at your food, it's almost as good as what the great Savior Thrall." Vol'jin smiled mysteriously, "You're doing very well."
Gerkan was drenched in sweat, wiping the brow. "Lord Vol'jin, please forgive me if I have offended you."
"You haven't offended me." Vol'jin smiled faintly. "I'm here to cooperate with you. One hundred thousand Mag'har Orcs, flesh and soul, are mine."
"No problem!" Gerkan readily agreed, secretly relieved.
Vol'jin solemnly declared, "In the Spires of Arak, the Arakkoa Empire has returned, colluding with the Black Temple. For the peace and tranquility of Outland, and for the well-being of the Mag'har descendants, all Mag'har Orcs must bravely stand up and fight for Outland."
Gerkan declared resolutely, "For the Glory of the Mag'har Orcs."
Spires of Arak, Sethekk Valley, Draenor World.
In the early days, the Wind Serpent god Sethe failed in his challenge to Rukhmar, and a small portion of Sethe's cursed blood Corruption the entire Valley, forming what is known in later generations Sethe Valley.
Looking out over the gloomy Valley, Reshad said sadly:
"Emperor Terokk is an immortal legend of the Arakkoa. He led the Arakkoa to victory over their mortal enemy, the Tiger Person. However, he was betrayed by the priests, and he and his daughter Reshi were thrown into this cursed Valley, where they suffered unbearable pain."
Reshad's voice trembled slightly as he said regretfully:
"The rise of the Arakkoa Empire was thus brought to an end. Afterwards, no wise leader like Emperor Terokk ever appeared, and the Arakkoa declined further and further. My research into ancient texts uncovered a secret: Emperor Terokk's power was extraordinary. His daughter was a highly skilled Huntress, and coupled with his battle-hardened and loyal Personal Guard, the priests had no chance. They were able to overthrow Emperor Terokk's rule thanks to a mysterious being."
Griftah asked in surprise, "Rukhmar, Anzu, or perhaps the Wind Serpent god Sethe who refuses to rest in peace?"
Reshad shook his head. "Perhaps only Terokk himself knows. Although Terokk survived in the Blasted Lands with Anzu's help, his body and memories are forever imprisoned in this Valley. Only the flesh and blood of a large number of Orcs can save him."
Griftah sighed, "Even if Emperor Terokk were to return, this world would no longer be the age of the Arakkoa."
Reshad nodded:
"That's right, the decline of the Arakkoa is irreversible, and even Emperor Terokk's rebirth cannot reverse the situation. I'm just unwilling to accept it, and I want to know who's behind it all. I once asked the Eye of Anzu, but unfortunately, there was no answer."
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