Vol'jin stared at Zul'jin, not needing to guess what the God-King Rastakhan would do; he only needed to be in his place.
A Warchief, rumored to be dead, is living in seclusion on his land.
If it were Vol'jin himself, he would definitely capture this Warchief, torture him severely, and extract information about his treasure.
A reclusive Horde Warchief is a huge, fat sheep that can greatly enrich the national treasury.
Unless you leave the Zandalari Empire, escaping will be extremely difficult, as the many Loa of Zandalar form a tight net.
Vol'jin gasped and asked in a low voice, "Zul'jin, are you threatening me?"
Zul'jin chuckled. "I had no choice. Don't blame me. Sylvanas sent a message to God-King Rastakhan, threatening him to take my head. Rastakhan is an Imp; he killed all my priests. I barely escaped, and luckily, I received guidance from a god and successfully found you, Vol'jin."
Vol'jin stroked his fangs, remained silent for a long while, and then said in a cold voice, "No, it was you who killed those priests. You used their souls to exchange for my information with some god."
Zul'jin squinted at Vol'jin: "Ha, you really do know me, just as well as I know you. God-King Rastakhan thought you were dead in Orgrimmar, but I know you won't."
Vol'jin shrugged and spread his hands. "But I've lost all power. What good will it do you to come to me? I can't help you with anything. Zul'jin, I'm just like you, a pathetic stray dog."
Zul'jin picked up the coconut juice beside him, took a big gulp, and said nonchalantly:
"God-King Rastakhan will surely offer sacrifices to the Loa in search of my whereabouts. Once he finds me, he will find you. Compared to me, penniless and hastily fleeing Zul'Aman, you will surely bring Rastakhan a pleasant surprise."
After thinking for a long time, Vol'jin realized that Zul'jin was now bound to him.
Being discovered by Zul'jin while living in seclusion here was a disaster for Vol'jin.
However, Zul'jin and he shared the same fate, which was the most reliable alliance. Gaining a powerful ally, from this perspective, might not be a bad opportunity.
With Zul'jin's powerful assistance, he might very well be able to take over the Zandalar and the god-king Rastakhan.
After much deliberation, Vol'jin finally made up his mind, and his extinguished ambition was rekindled.
"Zul'jin, don't worry, come with me. I've been feeling lost and had given up on the future, but you gave me confidence."
Vol'jin led the way into a luxurious villa built deep in the dense forest by the sea.
Zul'jin, disregarding the villa's luxurious furnishings, went with Vol'jin to a secret basement.
An Altar stands here, Altar yet shrouded in a dark aura.
Zul'jin was secretly surprised. He felt the power of the Altar. As the chief of the Amani Tribe, he thought he was very familiar with every Loa, but he didn't know who this god was.
Could it be an unfamiliar Loa?
"Zul'jin."
Vol'jin revealed an arrogant expression:
"You are merely the chieftain of the Amani Tribe, capable only of selling the souls of your people to the Loa. I, however, am the Warchief of the Horde, capable of betraying the interests of all of Azeroth to forge a connection with a greater being."
"Those ancient beings, even if they only reveal a tiny bit of their power, it would be enough to benefit us for a lifetime."
"Betraying the interests of Azeroth?" Zul'jin looked envious, but also shocked, wondering which god the Altar was communicating with.
Vol'jin smiled smugly, "I only hastened the demise of Azeroth, but that doesn't matter at all. Compared to the long lifespan of Azeroth, our lives are insignificant. Shortening the life of Azeroth in exchange for a lifetime of luxury is a very worthwhile trade."
Zul'jin nodded in deep agreement. Most people were just envious, but unfortunately they had no opportunity. Only the leader of the Alliance or the Warchief of the Horde had the right to betray Azeroth.
Vol'jin knelt before the Altar, praying fervently. "Great master, I am your devoted servant Vol'jin. The Trolls of Zandalar have disobeyed your will. I beseech you, master, grant me great power."
Atop the Altar, a grand voice responded:
"Vol'jin, thank you for your past contributions, which loosened my seal slightly. I will not forget your kindness. Rest assured, those weak Loa cannot find your trace, for I am the great God of Nightmares, the Fiend of a Thousand Maws, the creator of the Black Empire, N'Zoth."
N'Zoth, the Old Gods.
Zul'jin was taken aback; as expected of the Horde's Warchief, he had actually managed to establish contact with N'Zoth.
"Strange, I remember these great beings don't easily listen to the voices of mortals, why is that? Or am I remembering wrong?"
Zul'jin's doubts quickly passed by, and he didn't dwell on them.
"Zul'jin, with N'Zoth as our backer, why should we worry about a mere God-King Rastakhan?"
Zul'jin then understood why Vol'jin had chosen Zandalar as his place of seclusion.
When the Forsaken landed in Kalimdor and established a base in Theramore, Darnassus was the one most affected.
Tyrande clearly sensed that Sylvanas was coming for her.
Having received no response from the goddess for several days, Tyrande was in a state of turmoil; she could not sit idly by and wait for her doom.
Leading a group of her Priestess, Tyrande secretly arrives at the Vault of the Wardens, a place where all sorts of Evil beings are imprisoned, including the Demon Hunter Tyrande despises most.
The leader of the Night Elves arrived, Maiev Shadowsong, the jailer of the Vault of the Wardens, hurriedly came out to greet him.
In the chilling Vault of the Wardens, Maiev led the way. Tyrande ignored the Evil beings imprisoned within; her only purpose in coming here was to Illidan, the Demon Hunter.
Deep within the Vault of the Wardens, a series of agonizing howls echoed endlessly.
"Is it not over yet, Maiev?" Tyrande asked expressionlessly. "Sylvanas has landed on Kalimdor, and our people are in danger. Only Illidan can defeat her, just as he served us before."
Maiev hurriedly replied:
"Honorable Priestess, only the cruelest torture can make someone forget, and it takes time. Illidan has not forgotten your and Lord Malfurion's attack on the Black Temple. Now is not the time to release him."
Tyrande gritted her teeth and said viciously:
"Everything is in chaos. Sylvanas's arrival was too sudden. The Night Elves are facing their greatest crisis. You must get Illidan into the Battlefield as soon as possible, inflict the cruelest torture, tear his soul apart, and then piece it back together."
Maiev said with difficulty, "High Priestess, this will affect Illidan's strength."
"All I need is victory, Maiev. This price is insignificant," Tyrande said solemnly, clenching her fist.
Maiev hesitated for a moment, then said, "Alright, we can burn Illidan's soul and get rid of this dangerous Demons completely. But I don't understand why Sylvanas, who has always been on good terms with us, is so insistent now?"
Tyrande frowned and replied fiercely:
"Because she has gained a new Fel Body, Sylvanas is very rational. Long ago, when she discussed the future of the High Elves with her sisters, she came to the conclusion that if the High Elves wanted to rise, they had to get rid of their Mana Addiction."
"Offspring born from intermarriage with humans possess the longevity and magical affinity of the Elves, and are able to break free from the shackles of Mana Addiction, becoming powerful mages. The first Guardian, Alodi, is the best example of this."
"Sylvanas successfully persuaded her two sisters, but she had a better option: Illidan, the Legendary Savior, unbound by Mana Addiction. His child with Illidan, Pureblood Elf, was the future of the High Elves, but for us it was tantamount to destruction. We must stop Sylvanas's madness."