Amidst the densely packed Draenei Holy Souls, an archbishop stepped forward to argue with Velen:
"Prophet Velen, we revere the Holy Light, but where was Holy Light when we were slaughtered by the Orcs? In our most perilous moment, the Holy Light abandoned us."
Velen looked up at the archbishop.
Twenty-five thousand years ago, they were good friends, working together to lead the Draenei to escape from Argus Planet.
Velen chuckled sinisterly, "Twenty-five thousand years ago, you voluntarily fled Argus Planet with me, and now you're being slaughtered by the Orcs. How do you feel about that?"
The archbishop sighed, "I don't know what happened. Twenty-five thousand years ago, I was one of the best Eredar Mages, capable of causing mountains to crumble and the earth to split with a wave of my hand. Back then, I could defeat all the Orcs of Draenor single-handedly. But in the Battle of Shattrath City, I couldn't even defeat a slightly stronger Orcs."
"Do you regret it?" Velen asked.
The archbishop stared blankly at Velen. Velen, who was usually so warm and convincing, seemed strange today.
"Actually, I've always been reluctant to face the suspicions in my heart, Velen," the archbishop said with a pained expression. "I feel that the Holy Light is deceiving me."
Velen laughed loudly, "Your feeling was right. Abandoning Arcane energy and accepting the Holy Light to escape Argus Planet with me was the biggest mistake you ever made. A bunch of useless trash, slaughtered by the Orcs, it was all your own doing. Who told you to trust me? This is your retribution."
These words caused an uproar among the Draenei Holy Souls.
"Velen, you must have been controlled by the Burning Legion. How could you say such a thing?"
"By the Holy Light, the Velen before us must be Demons in disguise."
"We've been tricked! We want to see the real Velen! Holy Light, please expose the Demons's disguise!"
Velen laughed until tears streamed down his face.
"Incompetent, useless! Even at a time like this, you're still protecting the Holy Light. Haven't 25,000 years of suffering taught you enough? Look at your compatriots who accepted Fel back then, running rampant on Argus Planet. And look at you, how can you be so foolish? It's truly astonishing."
"No, I don't believe it, Demons! You can't shake my faith in the Holy Light!"
"Holy Light, protect me, enlighten me, and let me see hope through the clouds."
"Prophet Velen, where are you? There is a liar here deceiving us, uttering blasphemous words against the Holy Light."
After all, they had been accompanied by the Holy Light for 25,000 years. Even though Velen revealed his true colors, he still could not shake the faith of the Draenei.
Only a few wise men looked at Velen in horror, as if they had fallen into a dark Abyss, seeing no hope whatsoever.
The Draenei Holy Souls swarmed forward, ready to tear the liar before them to shreds.
Velen raised the Holy Light Scepter in his hand, and the Holy Light formed a wall, blocking all the Holy Souls.
"Look, this is the Holy Light you believe in! How can you be so stubbornly deluded? Come, you deceived fools, bear the price of your faith in the Holy Light!"
Velen whispered, "Holy Light Enslavement."
Holy Light formed countless golden chains, binding all the Draenei Holy Souls like venomous snakes.
The Draenei Holy Souls wailed and screamed, but they could not escape the chains that enslaved them and completely controlled them.
"Praise be to the Holy Light," the Prophet Velen laughed.
The Draenei Holy Souls, expressionless, shouted, "Praise be to the great Holy Light!"
"That's right." Prophet Velen said smugly, "You thought I was begging you? You're wrong, you worthless trash. After 25,000 years of exploitation, you've lost your value. Burn your Holy Souls and fight for the Orcs who slaughter you. This is the retribution for believing in me."
A golden Portal opened, and the enslaved Draenei Holy Souls lined up to Portal.
Target: Shadowmoon Valley, Black Temple.
Inside the council chamber of the Black Temple, Illidan sat listlessly on his throne, his thoughts drifting aimlessly.
The Blood Elves of the Illidari Council watched the monitoring crystal with meticulous attention.
In the gray mist of Shadowmoon Valley, a group of Holy Souls shimmering with golden light rushed toward the Black Temple.
"The Draenei Holy Souls have actually launched an attack on us?"
Willes Shadow wore an incredulous expression.
Duchess Malande said worriedly:
"Holy Souls are formless and intangible, immune to all physical damage; only mage units and Demon Hunters can harm them. However, once Holy Souls self-destructs, its power is extraordinary."
Gathios the Shatterer slammed his fist on the table. "These damned Draenei didn't have this kind of courage when faced with the Orcs' slaughter back then."
High-ranking necromancer Veras Darkshadow approached the throne. "Lord Illidan, please allow me to activate the Soul Conduit."
Soul Conduit is a device specifically designed to extract souls.
Many Fel Magic require souls as casting materials; the Burning Legion has built Forge of Souls, and the Black Temple is filled with Soul Conduits.
Illidan nodded.
A hemispherical device rose from the top of the Black Temple.
The enslaved Draenei Holy Souls proceeded methodically.
Suddenly, streaks of black light shot into the ranks of the Holy Souls, emitting a piercing shriek.
Like a thousand Banshees screaming in unison, the Draenei Holy Souls all clutched their heads and knelt on the ground in agony.
Immediately afterwards, the Soul Conduit generated a powerful suction force, drawing the Draenei Holy Souls uncontrollably into the Soul Conduit.
Deep beneath the Black Temple, a colossal Soul Millstone slowly turned, crushing the Holy Souls into fragments before it could even self-destruct.
The Soul Casket absorbed the shattered fragments of souls and stored them as excellent materials for spellcasting.
Everything went very smoothly; the Draenei Holy Souls didn't have time to cause any damage and instead became supplies for the Black Temple.
The Blood Elves of the Illidari Council celebrated joyfully, causing Illidan, sitting on his throne, to shudder.
A faint curse seeped into Illidan's body; had his spirit not been extraordinary, he would never have been able to detect it.
"What a powerful curse! So profound, so strange and eerie, like a bone-deep infection, extremely difficult to remove."
Illidan remained impassive, his brow furrowed as he pondered where things had gone wrong.
Yes, the curse was placed on the Draenei as early as 25,000 years ago.
Ten thousand years have long since become one with their souls.
Illidan was caught off guard and fell victim to the attack.
"The Army of the Light's millennia-long plan is probably just a side move; it might come in handy sometime. Interesting."
Illidan's lips curled slightly; this was getting more and more interesting.
A Demon Hunter, travel-worn, entered the ritual hall, shouting as he ran:
"Lord Illidan, great joy!"
The Demon Hunter delivered a revealing crystal containing an image of the Broken Abyss Mardum.
In the dark Void, countless floating islands drifted, revealing a corner of a colossal entity.
Its entire body is golden, surrounded by crackling Lightning, and covered with obscure ancient runes.
"What's this?"
The Illidari Council examined it closely but could not determine what it was.
Illidan suddenly stood up, his body trembling with excitement, even though he was usually calm.
"Orodur has been hidden by Sargeras in Mardum."
Everyone was stunned upon hearing this.
Orodur is the weapon of the Highfather Aman'Thul, and its length exceeds the diameter of the Azeroth Planet.
Illidan was filled with conflicting thoughts, realizing it might be a trap to lure him there.
But the opportunity cannot be missed, Illidan ordered:
"All Demon Hunters, heed my command: proceed to Mardum in the Broken Abyss, under the full command of Vandel."