Evening was drawing near. The hazy, warm glow of dusk had faded completely, leaving only cool shades of blue and purple.
Robbie followed Yrel, watching the tip of her tail twitch playfully. He kept feeling an urge to reach out and touch it.
Robbie was about to meet Prophet Velen, and he couldn't help feeling anxious and nervous.
He had no real confidence in passing himself off as the fiftieth person at the Dark Portal before the nearly all-knowing prophet.
He'll probably see through me at a glance.
The prophet was kind and gentle. He wouldn't do anything to Robbie.
Unfortunately, disappointment was inevitable.
These past few days, Robbie had seen too much disappointment among the Draenei. It made him miserable and conflicted, and he really didn't want to see that expression on the prophet's face.
Yrel was visibly nervous too, beads of sweat forming on the tip of the Draenei's nose.
Vanessa walked quietly beside Robbie without a sound. Her confident, stubborn face and her large, clear, bright eyes gave him a little more confidence.
Ever since the Orcs established the Iron Horde, Prophet Velen had rarely gone out.
He needed peace and quiet, time to meditate and search desperately through his many prophetic visions for the future of the Draenei, to find the one true path to redemption.
In a modest little house, Robbie met the prophet of the Draenei.
Sensing that visitors had arrived, Velen ended his meditation. With his hands resting on his knees, his wise eyes shone as his gentle gaze swept over his guests. For an instant, Robbie felt as though he had been completely seen through.
"Welcome, champion of the Dark Portal, friend of the Draenei."
The prophet's resonant voice echoed with a power that calmed the heart, and Robbie's nervousness vanished at once.
Champion of the Dark Portal? Well, there's nothing wrong with calling me that.
Robbie had taken part in the Battle of the Dark Portal, even if he had only been in a cannon-fodder unit.
Following Yrel's example, he paid his respects to the prophet, and the three found places to sit.
The prophet's gaze was gentle and calm. It passed over Robbie's face, and he smiled kindly.
"Look what I see: a young man with courage and wisdom, who dares to seek the truth. By the Holy Light, you are destined to cross the boundaries of time. Your travels are rich and colorful, and your experiences are enviable. You will bring change to this world and bring hope and courage to its people."
The prophet's a nice guy.
Robbie relaxed completely, feeling warmth and comfort from the bottom of his heart.
When his gaze shifted to Vanessa, Velen looked shocked for an instant, then returned to normal.
"Young traveler, I see confusion in your eyes."
The prophet turned to Vanessa, his expression growing a little more grave.
"Why didn't you do it that way?" Vanessa asked out of the blue.
"What?"
The prophet looked somewhat puzzled, while Yrel was stunned.
Oh no. Robbie slapped his forehead. A mistake, a mistake! If I'd known this would happen, I shouldn't have brought Vanessa.
"I cannot do that." The prophet lowered his brows, his expression conflicted.
"It's not that you can't, it's that you're unwilling. What are you worried about?" Vanessa's tone was aggressive, as though she were breathing ice and fire.
Robbie kept signaling her with his eyes, but Vanessa pretended not to see.
"If I did that, how would I be any different from them?" the prophet said, shaking his head.
"So you decided the Draenei's fate for them in private and suppressed their nature, even if it meant the slaughter of their entire race? You were willing to pay that price?"
"In some respects, you're a tyrant too, Prophet," Vanessa said with undisguised mockery.
The wrinkles on Velen's face deepened, making it look like a piece of mottled old bark.
As the two spoke as though exchanging riddles, Yrel grew more and more confused.
Robbie's face was full of bitterness.
In front of a beautiful, charming young woman he liked, a man would usually fall into the same bad habit.
Holding forth.
Even Robbie was no exception.
Whenever he was alone with Vanessa, Robbie liked to talk about his opinions.
And Vanessa always listened attentively, like a student paying close attention in class.
As for the Draenei, Robbie privately believed they were a race that had obviously put their technology points in the wrong places. They were capable of interstellar travel. If they had shifted their tech tree just a little and made some planes, cannons, tanks and mechs, the Orcs would never have nearly wiped them out.
Even a slight improvement to their ships' engines would have given them a superweapon far surpassing the Focusing Iris, enough to keep the Draenei safe.
The Orcs did very well on that front. This race, which outwardly revered muscle and was always talking about honor, never passed up any chance to grow stronger.
Whether it was righteous or evil.
The Legion's Fel power was useful, so Gul'dan used it. Mannoroth's blood tasted good and could strengthen the Orcs' bodies, so Gul'dan not only drank it himself but also made sure his people benefited.
The power of nature was good and strong, awesome and violent, so Thrall became a Shaman and took control of the Earthen Ring.
They even knew to enslave the Red Dragon Queen, force her to lay eggs and develop dragon biotechnology.
They could use the Demon Soul to defeat Deathwing, so why couldn't anyone else think of it?
Garrosh Hellscream, an Orc who might as well have had muscles growing in his brain, knew to build the Iron Horde, arm the Orcs first and then beat the crap out of their enemies.
Then he used the Focusing Iris, a superweapon, to destroy Theramore and remove a threat to Orgrimmar's rear.
He didn't even pass up the sha energy in Pandaria. By comparison, the Pandaren, who had lived alongside the sha for thousands of years but had never thought to put sha energy to good use, were like feeble-minded children.
Garrosh's wisdom and daring beat Prophet Velen hollow for ten thousand years, and the saddest part was that he beat him intellectually. His only flaw was being too rash and neglecting diplomacy.
If the Orcs had the Draenei's technology, the insignificant Burning Legion, the puny Army of the Light and the pathetic Void Lords would have fled as far away as they could long ago, or faced destruction.
If the Holy Light ever took pity on the Orcs, they would immediately cling to it, bare their fearsome fangs and shout a few lines: "The Holy Light is with us!"
Along the way, they would also take down a few Naaru and merge them into themselves, becoming Holy Light Naaru Orcs.
The Orcs were the real protagonists of this universe, a race that was obviously using cheats.
This wasn't Robbie relying on an omniscient perspective, nor was it baseless speculation. In this very universe, the Draenei were not alone. They had an example they could draw on, learn from and imitate.
The Burning Legion.
The Burning Legion had advanced Star Destroyers, terrifying war mechs, demonic monsters as vast as mountains, and an inexhaustible supply of Fel.
The Draenei's own kin, countless Eredar engineers, had played a vital role in building the Burning Legion.
That was what an intelligent race that dominated the universe should look like.
Even if the Draenei learned just a tiny bit of it, that would be enough for them to unite Draenor.
Robbie wondered why, after discovering the Draenei on Draenor, Kil'jaeden had not sent his Star Destroyer fleet but instead gone to great lengths to manipulate the native Orcs.
Kil'jaeden had only one goal: to force his old friend Velen to submit.
Either become like us, or choose the destruction of your race.
Prophet Velen, that old charlatan who talked about the "Holy Light" all day long, stubbornly set the course of the Draenei's fate and calmly chose the latter. The one piece of good fortune amid the disaster was that a small number of Draenei successfully escaped to the continent of Azeroth.
They even had spaceships. Was crushing the Orcs really that hard?
The truth since ancient times was that those who fell behind would be beaten.
The Draenei demonstrated the peculiar, anti-civilizational phenomenon of getting beaten even when they were advanced.
What caused such a strange phenomenon?
The problem lay with Prophet Velen. He was ageless and immortal, and he had mastered prophecy. In the name of the Holy Light, he had shackled the minds of the Draenei.
Of course, criticizing the Velen of the parallel-world Draenor for what the Velen of Outland had done was a little unreasonable.
But it wasn't entirely without reason. Robbie had already come to understand the situation in Embaari Village. Without the Alliance adventurers' help, the Draenei here would likewise be in danger of being wiped out by the Iron Horde.
Prophet Velen let out a long sigh and spoke in a wise tone.
"Young girl, I see the ambition growing within you, and I see your justice and conviction as well. But you have not seen the secret behind this endless void."
"The secret behind the void?" Robbie drew a sharp breath.
What does that mean? Prophet, could you explain it clearly?
Vanessa looked thoughtful.
"The Burning Legion will ultimately fall. Its temporary power and glory, its conquests and enslavement, are like brilliant fireworks in the night sky, a beautiful spectacle that burns itself out."
The prophet's aged face shone.
"But I left a seed for the Argus people. In the endless sweep of the universe, countless civilizations face survival and destruction. What do the occasional rises and falls of the Draenei amount to?"
There was a lot of information in Prophet Velen's words.
So the prophet had made that choice because of a greater secret behind it.
Vanessa stood and bowed respectfully to the prophet.
Robbie understood. This had been a ploy to provoke him into talking.
Although they hadn't found out what the greater secret was, knowing that it existed was enough. The trip hadn't been wasted.
The secret behind the void? That sounds pretty intriguing.
On this timeline, in the near future, Prophet Velen would sacrifice himself while purifying Naaru K'ara, bringing peace to Shadowmoon Valley.
Could I find a way to save the prophet?
After taking his leave of the prophet, Robbie kept thinking about that question.
Perhaps out of Draenei politeness, Yrel invited Robbie and Vanessa to visit her home. Vanessa had wanted to return to the inn and rest, but Robbie took it upon himself to accept.
Yrel's older sister, Samara, was an important clue.
In the "Sisters' Sacrifice" quest line, Ner'zhul kidnapped Samara and claimed that her blood could summon the Dark Star.
The so-called Dark Star was the fallen Naaru K'ara, floating in the air.
Why could a female Draenei's blood summon the Dark Star?
Robbie couldn't figure it out, and he didn't want to think about it.
He just couldn't let Ner'zhul have his way.
Ner'zhul, chieftain of the Shadowmoon Clan, was now not far from Embaari Village.
A small figure stood beside him. It was a green-skinned Goblin; their natural camouflage made Goblins excellent scouts.
"Honored Chieftain Ner'zhul, why did you put off the operation until today? The brothers have been keeping watch for so long that in a few more days they'll have to go home and buy supplies for the New Year."
The Goblin grumbled unhappily. He had been working with the Shadowmoon Clan for some time and was already exhausted in body and mind. He had complained to himself more than once about these difficult Orcs.
"I have been waiting for someone: the fiftieth person in the assault on the Dark Portal, the prophesied hope who will save the Draenei." Ner'zhul grinned. "I intend to conquer the Draenei and crush them psychologically. Nothing could be better than killing the Draenei's hope."