"Watch out for the Trolls! What does this mean?"
Khadgar looked at the busy Troll Chefs, each with sharp fangs and baring their teeth.
"Am I going to be turned into meat soup by them?"
The Orcs' ingratitude had become customary, as common as their constant talk of glory. The thought of being eaten sent a chill down Khadgar's spine, and he looked at Med'an with growing wariness.
"I need to be careful of this Half-Orcs. I've scolded him many times these past few days, and he's probably holding a grudge, wishing he could boil me into soup and eat me."
After the Orcs Warriors had enjoyed a delicious meal, the bones were gathered together and arranged back to their original shape. Some Undead Mage began casting spells, and souls returned, bones were reborn, and the Pandaren, Blood Elves, and Goblins all came back to life.
The Orcs devoured their flesh and blood, seemingly weakening the entire force, but they could become Undead and continue to serve the Orcs.
The flesh and blood filled the Orcs' bellies, keeping the Orcs Warriors fighting, and the skeletons resurrected as Undead. The overall number of the group remained unchanged, seemingly a very worthwhile deal.
Of course, these resurrected Undead must enter Undercity and undergo Sylvanas's rebirth baptism before they can become true Forsaken. Right now, they are at best half-finished products, with severely insufficient combat power.
These unfinished products shouted loudly:
"For the Horde."
Their voices were hoarse and deeply moving; they Consecration everything, and their loyalty to the Horde was as clear as day.
Robbie, witnessing this scene, was deeply moved. No wonder Sylvanas became the Warchief of the Horde; with such a large number of Forsaken, her power was bound to grow. As the leader of the Forsaken, Sylvanas's influence was also expanding.
After a hearty meal, the adventure begins.
The group walked past the boulders shattered by Khadgar. The mountain became steeper and the terrain more complex, with more rotting Murlocs appearing. This time, Khadgar had learned his lesson. He increasingly felt that Med'an was hostile towards him, so he began to play dumb, using insufficient mana and mental exhaustion as excuses, and refused to even draw a map.
After walking a short distance, Khadgar used exhaustion as an excuse to return to the camp to rest.
With no other option, Med'an had to lead the team forward himself. He broke the team into more than a dozen smaller squads, each searching for the sunken ship. Unfortunately, the team lacked mages and could only rely on torches for illumination, which limited their vision.
They wandered aimlessly through the fog like headless flies, the surrounding fog creating a tremendous sense of oppression. Occasionally, they would encounter some skeletons or rotting Undead Murloc, which provided a small comfort.
Before long, the rattling of chains began again, and fear gripped everyone's hearts.
Whenever the sound of chains echoed through the mist, it meant a comrade was destined to disappear, his life taken by the Soul Reaper, turning him into a walking corpse. Although these Veterans were not afraid of death, in this eerie situation, fear terrified them all. Unlike facing the enemy directly, it was a form of mental torture.
Walking on thin ice, powerless to resist, death lurks in the mist, ruthlessly reaping lives. One companion after another dies, and soon the Orcs can no longer hold on, entering a berserk state, attacking indiscriminately, friend or foe.
One Orcs's rampage sparked another, and chaos erupted as everyone around them seemed like an enemy. Med'an, realizing the situation was spiraling out of control, had no choice but to sound the retreat horn.
The dozen or so squads retreated to their camp, all terrified and almost all wounded. The riot resulted in the deaths of hundreds of Orcs Warriors, while only a few were dragged away by the "Evil" presence in the mist.
Faced with an unknown and terrifying existence, the soldiers refused to venture into the fog, leaving Med'an with no choice but to venture into the fog himself. He had to find a way to personally eliminate that Evil, unknown entity.
Now, Med'an was no match for Robbie. Robbie didn't even need to use his full strength to successfully capture the terrified Med'an alive. The next day, the group found Med'an unconscious outside the camp. He was naked, covered in the corpses of Undead Murloc, with the Guardian Set and the Legendary Staff lying to one side.
"They didn't take Med'an's equipment; that's one of the most Legendary sets in the Azeroth Continent."
Khadgar became increasingly certain that what was lurking in the mist was some kind of Evil Spirit, not someone in disguise.
Upon waking, Med'an felt too ashamed to face anyone and hid in his tent, refusing to show himself. Khadgar thought he would give up and lead the group back, but to his surprise, Med'an displayed extraordinary resilience and secretly found Khadgar.
"Senior brother, let me be frank with you. I've really embarrassed myself this time. My father taught me that it's okay to lose face, but you must find a way to make amends. Hmph, everyone who came with me this time, except for you, will not leave here alive."
"I'm talking fiercely," Med'an said, revealing a vicious expression almost identical to Medivh's.
Khadgar was horrified. Just because he was embarrassed, all the other witnesses were to die. No wonder he was the son of the Guardian; he had an extreme contempt for life.
"So the adventure must continue, senior brother. Please help me think of a way. I can't let them waste food in the camp," Med'an pleaded.
Khadgar sensed Med'an's determination and knew he couldn't keep anything from him anymore; this guy was capable of anything when he got carried away. Khadgar pondered for a long time before saying, "The biggest problem right now is this fog, which prevents us from knowing what the enemy looks like. If we can dispel the fog, the problem won't be so big."
Med'an nodded, unwilling to accept his defeat, and stubbornly insisted, "That's right, I fought that Evil yesterday. His strength is nothing special. If it weren't for this fog obscuring my vision, I definitely wouldn't have lost."
"Do you know what fog is made of?" Khadgar asked deliberately.
"What's the composition of fog?" Med'an scratched his head, his knowledge limited. "Fog is just fog!"
Khadgar shook his head and chuckled, "Actually, fog is made up of tiny water droplets. Countless droplets float in the air, obscuring visibility and forming fog."
"If it's a water droplet, why doesn't it fall?" Med'an asked, puzzled. "Isn't water supposed to flow downhill?"
"I don't quite understand this either." Khadgar had a headache. Although he was Archmage, his research on fog was not in-depth. Mages were all pursuing power and lacked common sense.
"All you need to know is that fog is made up of tiny water droplets. With proper use of Frost magic, it's easy to dispel the fog. My suggestion is to Summon Water Elemental Water Elemental command it to absorb the fog."
"Why didn't you say so sooner? Summon Water Elementals is my specialty."
Who is Med'an? He is Medivh's son, and he is extremely skilled in magic.
The next morning, several Tauren, driven by a thirst for glory, became the victims, and the Orcs Warriors once again feasted on their fill.
Med'an unleashed his Water Elemental Domain in front of everyone, summoning thousands of Water Elementals that roamed the island, absorbing the moisture in the air. The thick fog gradually thinned and eventually disappeared completely.
Only then did everyone realize that the island was actually not very big, and it could be seen almost entirely from a high vantage point.
They soon discovered several shipwrecks on the northern shore of the island. If the Booty Bay map was accurate, Shadowmourne was inside one of the shipwrecks.
But now a problem has arisen: the thousands of Water Elementals summoned by Med'an have all gone out of control.