The alleyway gradually Anjing as four Orcs laborers carried away Gai Laya's body.
"Serves you right for sneaking a bite! Serves you right for sneaking a bite!"
In front of the incinerator, the overseer was severely whipping a laborer.
The hard worker smiled naively and kept putting the raw meat into his mouth.
"A bunch of useless trash, you can't even control your mouths. Lord Eitrigg said long ago that Orcs can't eat meat, they have to eat grass roots to live longer. That's called health preservation, you don't understand."
Durotar is a desolate land where even grass roots are hard to find, and in Orgrimmar, countless Orcs live in hunger.
The foreman left grumbling, and in his room, a pot of golden-brown roasted meat had already been prepared.
Robbie and Krasus walked into the alley, Robbie bent down and picked up a piece of meat scrap from the ground.
This is Thrall's flesh and blood, sliced off by the Soulblood Blade, containing a rich concentration of Power of the Holy Light, mixed with a trace of Power of Death.
Robbie frowned at the fusion of Holy Light and the Power of Death; the future Jaina's origins were not simple.
Krasus sighed, "It seems Thrall will be resurrected in the Age of Holy Light. I can hardly imagine what disaster he will bring to Azeroth. It's a pity we are powerless to stop Jaina."
Robbie shook his head. "Stopping Jaina is pointless."
Krasus nodded. "That's right, the opponent can travel through Timelines at will and can take Thrall's flesh and soul at any time."
"Let's go, it's time to head back."
Robbie took out a Time Beacon and contacted the Infinite Dragonlord Murozond, and a time-space portal opened in front of the two of them.
Meanwhile, Archmage Khadgar, Imperator Mar'gok, Anachronos, Durotan, and Prophet Velen met at an inn in Shattrath City.
"Good news! Although a million Orcs perished, Jaina gained nothing, Zangarmarsh safe." Khadgar exclaimed excitedly.
Anachronos, however, was somewhat worried. "Illidan's body has been sent back to the Vault of the Wardens; we know he will surely be resurrected in the future."
The Prophet Velen shook his head. "Even if we find the body, it will be useless; we don't know where his soul has gone."
Durotan warned, "Velen, the evidence against you for colluding with the Burning Legion is irrefutable. Confess now!"
Having endured days of ridicule and sarcasm, the Prophet Velen had developed a thick enough skin. He calmly replied:
"Gentlemen, I think you should all be aware that Azeroth is weaker than the Holy Light and the Burning Legions. To survive, it can only play both sides. To put it bluntly, Azeroth cannot do without someone like me."
"But we'll have to pay a heavy price," Khadgar disagreed.
Velen spoke eloquently, "How can we gain the support of these two Legions without sacrificing some of our interests? As the weak, we should not take up arms to fight, but try every means to survive."
Anachronos's eyelids twitched. "Well said, Velen, but it's pointless. We'll testify against you at the negotiating table in Thunder Bluff."
Velen's smile was forced as he glanced at the crowd:
"Do you really believe that Chen Stormstout can become Savior like Thrall? Don't dream. He's just a lowly Pandaren, food for the Orcs. Gentlemen, listen to me: no matter how Azeroth changes, it can never escape the control of the Army of the Light."
Mar'gok declared righteously, "Velen, whatever you say, await the judgment of Justice."
Velen sensed something unspoken in the words, and first turned to Khadgar, sneering:
"Khadgar, cleric of the Army of the Light, you have gained many benefits on Argus Planet."
Facing the questioning looks from the others, Khadgar smiled faintly, "My full-time job as a priest is to fight against the Burning Legion."
Velen raised his voice. "Mar'gok, Durotan, you have both been lackeys of the Army of the Light. Anachronos, don't think you're innocent. You've long been in league with the Army of the Light, trying to resurrect your father Nozdormu. Gentlemen, none of us here are innocent."
Anachronos gave a signal, and the four men surrounded Velen.
Velen raised his hands. "Alright, I understand your thinking. Nothing is off-limits for trade. Azeroth is coveted by the Army of the Light, and the Burning Legion is watching closely. It's already not safe. Even if it's not for yourselves, don't you think about your people?"
Mar'gok frowned. The Ogres of Highmaul settling in Gadgetzan was a desperate measure. He asked, "What's your plan?"
Velen smiled slightly, "The Draenei have wandered the stars and witnessed countless civilizations. I know many planets are habitable; their coordinates are in my mind. As long as you don't reveal the truth, I will be your last resort should Azeroth face a life-or-death situation."
The four looked at each other, the conditions offered by Velen were very tempting and hard to refuse.
Anachronos said seriously, "Velen, you go out first. Let's discuss it and then make a decision."
Velen said confidently, "You will definitely agree."
After a brief discussion, the four reached an agreement and agreed to accept the deal.
To show his sincerity, Velen provided the coordinates of a habitable planet.
Khadgar had studied Star Mage techniques in Karazhan and had not yet revealed any weaknesses. The two sides quickly reached an agreement.
Anachronos opened a Portal, and the five of them crossed Portal, appearing in Thunder Bluff.
Chen Stormstout and Taran Zhu were locked in a standoff, seemingly on the verge of a physical fight.
Rustwater Port, Azeroth's infamous gold mines, a place of dazzling lights, debauchery, and decadence, was a scene of utter corruption.
Hidden within the dark alleyways is the largest private club in Rustwater Port, frequented by the wealthy and powerful.
It's unclear when exactly, but a mysterious human man appeared here.
He was tall and thin, with long black hair, a thick beard, and incredibly deep eyes, like stars spinning in the night.
He's extravagant, spending lavishly; he demands the finest wines, the rarest dishes, and the most beautiful women.
For some reason, this man had a particular fondness for Orcs women, especially Lightforging female Orcs.
No one knows his origins. Some people with ill intentions tried to test him, but they all mysteriously disappeared without a trace.
Regardless of the changing circumstances in the outside world, the man remained at the private club, indulging in wine and women.
On this day, the man embraced the voluptuous Orcs woman, savoring fine wine and delicacies, when a clear and melodious sound reached his ears.
The man was very impatient and, with a dark expression, ordered everyone to leave.
A golden light flashed, Naruk Xil appeared in the room, the light flickering as if surveying his surroundings.
The man raised a glass of wine, his eyes glazed with drunkenness, and said, "The enjoyment of flesh and blood is something you Holy Light beings cannot comprehend."
"You're wrong," Naruk Xil said in a melodious voice. "The Naaru have the ability to resonate with each other, to connect with flesh and blood. I sense your weariness and powerlessness. You're gradually growing weary of this life, just like with the female Orcs. In truth, you've long been tired of it."
The man raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly, "It seems nothing can be hidden from you. The life cycle of flesh and blood is like this: farmers toil endlessly, craftsmen toil day after day, and adventurers have long been tired of their precarious lives, but they have no choice but to persevere. What can they do? Life is inherently boring."
"But you're different. You have a choice," Naruk Xil said seriously. "Because you are Medivh."