Cenarius approached the three of them little by little. Krasus noticed that his eyes were golden, and his long, moss-like hair hung straight down to his shoulders, with leaves and twigs growing on his hair and beard.
Just like in the Legendary, it really is the Demigod Cenarius.
Krasus desperately wanted to call for help, but he was a Red Dragon Red Dragon, one of the oldest species in the world, older than even the Wild God. The dignity of the Dragonkin prevented him from speaking.
Rhonin didn't care about that. Short-lived races valued dignity much less than long-lived races and paid more attention to life and death. Just as he was about to ask for help, he heard Broxigar shout loudly.
"Great Cenarius, you are the most powerful Demigod in this world. The Moon Goddess favors you, mountains prostrate themselves at your feet, and lakes sing your praises. You are a god who walks among men. Praise be to you, beautiful Cenarius, strong Cenarius! My worship of you is like the waves of the Well of Eternity, like the unceasing flames of the Firelands."
Krasus and Rhonin were both impressed by Broxigar's abilities, never expecting Broxigar to be such Orcs.
Cenarius listened with obvious satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with smugness as he stared at the unfamiliar creature and asked, "You recognize me?"
Broxigar, of course, recognized Cenarius. During the struggle between the Orcs and Night Elves for Ashenvale, Cenarius had caused the Orcs no small amount of trouble. Broxigar's words were like honey. "Great Cenarius, your Legendary has always been told in my homeland, and my people sing praises of your wisdom and greatness."
Cenarius practically floated up, wagging his tail and even changing his gait. He nodded. "The light of the Moon Goddess guided me to you. You have won my favor. Come with me."
With a powerful stomp of its hooves, Cenarius transformed into a giant woodpecker, flew onto Broxigar, and tried to break the vines that were binding him.
Unfortunately, the magic of the Night Elf race was extremely strange, and the woodpecker's sharp beak couldn't break it.
Rhonin was secretly surprised; in this era, Cenarius's strength was nothing special.
Cenarius reverted to his original form, somewhat sullen. He let out a low growl, exhaling a stream of green energy, and the tree binding the three of them came to life, transforming into a Treant.
The Treants' countless branches lifted the three people, still entangled in vines, and they followed Cenarius slowly forward.
Cenarius the way, his strong frame clearing a path through the brambles and grass, complaining as he went:
"Don't worry, these vines can't bind you. Just return to my dwelling. Damn Night Elf race, I've known them for a long time, a bunch of rude Dark Trolls, savage and cruel. I led them to settle by the Well of Eternity. The Well of Eternity changed their form, and they forgot me, a bunch of ungrateful bastards."
Krasus chuckled inwardly. Of course, he knew that the evolution of the Night Elves had nothing to do with Cenarius. In fact, the first to discover the Well of Eternity and settle there was not the Dark Trolls. Dragonkin, among others, had all shown interest in the Well of Eternity.
The Night Elf race were the first race to be able to utilize the energy of the Well of Eternity.
Cenarius's dwelling was near a shimmering lake, beside which stood a Moonwell and a simple little hut, bathed in the milky Moonwell.
The tree carrying the three entered the moonlit area, and the magic of the vines on their bodies finally disappeared.
The four sat down on the stone benches next to the thatched hut, and a man named Shumiao brought them some freshly brewed tea.
"We forest Demigods are close to nature, value harmony with it, and live a simple life. We have nothing to offer you," Cenarius said.
The bowl contained boiling water with a few green tea leaves floating on top, creating a refreshing and unique atmosphere.
The saplings brought a lot of food, mostly plant tubers and the like.
Rhonin was already starving, so he picked up a big piece and started gnawing on it. Although it tasted terrible, bitter and astringent, it was enough to fill his stomach. Rhonin glanced at Krasus and Broxigar, whose expressions were not very friendly, but it was only for a moment before he also started gnawing on the tuber.
"Strange?" Rhonin shook his head, not asking any further questions.
Krasus was a dragon, Broxigar was an Orcs. Both were natural Hunters, and their noses were far more sensitive than humans', allowing them to detect the faint scent of blood lingering in the hut.
Cenarius, the Wild God, was a carnivore; he simply hoarded his meat to feign piety.
Cenarius sipped his tea slowly, watching the three men wolf down their food, and said in a condescending tone:
"The three of you have come from afar; you must have some questions."
Broxigar was the first to ask, "Honorable and great Cenarius, your great glory protects us, but who are those three Night Elf cubs?"
Cenarius sighed, "They are just ordinary Night Elves."
Although they had already guessed it, the three were still shocked. If the Elf cubs were this powerful, how terrifying must the adult Elves be?
Rhonin secretly estimated that even if the Guardian Medivh himself came, his strength would only be equivalent to that of an adult Night Elf, which meant that Guardians were everywhere in this era.
What a powerful era this was! Just thinking about it sends chills down my spine.
Cenarius noticed the worry on their faces and smiled slightly:
"Don't worry, where there is resistance, there is oppression. The Night Elf stubborn and barbaric, refusing to share the Well of Eternity with other races, which has already caused discontent. The Moon Goddess protects us, and the Doomsday Judgment is coming. The Night Elves will pay the price for their Pride and selfishness."
Broxigar had a different opinion on this.
If it were barbaric Orcs, they would have wiped out all the other intelligent races long ago; the Night Elves are already quite merciful.
However, living beings are inherently greedy, Night Elves ' mercy is seen as weakness by other races. They will not be satisfied and will want more.
In the Orcs' mind, survival of the fittest prevails, life is cruel, and mercy is foolish.
Broxigar, of course, wouldn't reveal his true thoughts. His injuries had largely healed by now. He slammed his fist on the stone table and roared:
"The Night Elf race are so cruel. I, Broxigar, swear to fight them to the very end, for the sake of Azeroth."
"Very good, very good, truly worthy of being chosen by the Moon Goddess."
Cenarius was quite satisfied with Broxigar. Although the creature was hideous and behaved absurdly, it suited his taste perfectly. He raised his eyelids and looked at Krasus and Rhonin:
"I don't know your origins, but the Moon Goddess has high hopes for you, believing you to be the key to resisting Queen Azshara. I hope you won't disappoint me."
Krasus discerned the prevailing winds; from the conversation of the three Night Elf youths, he deduced that the Dragonkin of this era were likely on the opposite side of the Night Elves.
"The Night Elves are the root of chaos in this world, and I am willing to stand with Lord Cenarius against Queen Azshara." Krasus expressed his loyalty quite consciously.
Rhonin, however, thought more deeply. In this era, humanity had not yet risen to prominence, and there were no constraints of racial interests. He only needed to be responsible for himself. The remaining Justice in his heart made him doubtful.
"Lord Cenarius, what is the Doomsday Judgment?"
Rhonin had the answer in his heart. He knew that the explosion of the Well of Eternity, the Sundering and the shattering of the continent, was undoubtedly the end of the world for the creatures on the surface. He wanted to know Cenarius's answer.
Cenarius's expression turned serious:
"The time has come. The Moon Goddess will descend and establish an eternal divine kingdom on earth to judge all sinful creatures. Only the goddess's followers will be able to live forever within this beautiful divine kingdom. This is the Doomsday Judgment."