"I have always maintained an equal relationship with the Murloc Empire."
N'Zoth's tentacles writhed, like a cunning serpent:
"In the ancient Black Empire, the Old Gods all had their own territories, with their own subjects and followers, such as the Mantid Y'Shaarj, the Aqir of C'Thun, and the Faceless Ones of Yogg-Saron. They focused on controlling their subjects, mainly through faith and spiritual control. Only I treat my subjects as equals."
Rhonin listened intently, like the most devout believer; at this moment, he was completely convinced by N'Zoth.
N'Zoth kept rambling on:
"There are many benefits to living in harmony as equals. It allows us to maximize the wisdom and creativity of our subjects. Initially, my territory was the smallest and my power the weakest. I could only survive by relying on the water-based abilities of the Murloc. But once I accumulated enough power, I surpassed them in less than two hundred years. If it weren't for the Titans' intervention, this planet would have belonged to me. Within tolerable limits, I will not wipe them out completely. This is an unspoken agreement among the Old Gods, unless someone breaks the rules."
"What is a fouler?" Rhonin asked curiously.
"It's complete corruption, ruthless mind control," N'Zoth emphasized loudly.
"Control and corruption are permissible means, but complete manipulation is unacceptable. Freedom must be allowed. Our ultimate goal is the development of civilization, to create diverse and vibrant civilizations. Complete manipulation leads to uniformity, which is meaningless. Xal'atath, a detestable creature, a female Old Gods, is the one who violates the rules; her subjects are the Trolls."
"Trolls?" Rhonin was taken aback; he had never heard of them before.
Mantids, Aqir, and Faceless Ones —even though the Old Gods were sealed away for tens of thousands of years, their faith in the Old Gods has been passed down through generations. However, there is no record of Trolls having faith in the Old Gods.
N'Zoth noticed Rhonin's question and calmly explained:
"Trolls are one of the oldest races in this world. Xal'atath took a wrong turn, so we united to divide her territory. Even so, we did not completely destroy her, but banished her. Once Xal'atath lost her freedom, the Trolls who regained consciousness would completely forget her. This is the aftereffect of complete control. Even Xal'atath's servants, the Loa, do not remember her."
It turns out that the Loa were servants of the Old Gods Xal'atath.
Rhonin felt that this trip to ancient times was worthwhile, as it resolved many questions from that era.
The Trolls are as ancient as the Faceless Ones, the Aqir, and the Mantid; they were the inhabitants of this land long before the war between the Titans and the Old Gods.
In the chaotic Dark Ages ruled by the Old Gods and Elemental Lords, how could Trolls survive or fight against the Old Gods and Elemental Lords without powerful backers?
In this way, the Night Elf race, who evolved from the Dark Trolls, can also be considered subjects of Xal'atath.
"Come on, my friend, Rhonin. I need your help. Of course, out of the principle of equality, if you can help me, I will give you some reward—a life-saving skill or a useful prophecy, which would be very important to you."
N'Zoth's tentacles opened a red and black Portal, leading into a world of red and black, a space corrupted by the Nightmare power, where even the sky was gray.
The dilapidated trees, the gray, corrosive aura, the withered branches, the terrifying tentacles— N'Zoth's power protected Rhonin, preventing him from being Corruption.
"Actually, I didn't want it to be like this," N'Zoth explained.
"Just as humans cannot control nightmares, the Old Gods could not control the power of corruption. Lucid dreams and corrupting Nightmares are as normal as breathing. Rhonin, you must be wondering how I entered the Emerald Dream."
Rhonin nodded. He already considered N'Zoth a close friend, and out of consideration for their friendship, he didn't ask any questions.
"I escaped from the Titans' seal, but not entirely—just my brain and one eye. Well, I won't hide it; I received some external help. Some nasty fellow possessed a portion of the Titans' authority, and not out of mercy. I was bound deep within the Emerald Dream, my mental energy sustaining its expansion. I've been fighting, otherwise Azeroth would have been consumed by the Nightmare long ago."
Upon reaching the deepest part of the Nightmare, Rhonin saw a towering tree corrupted by the Nightmare, its trunk several kilometers in diameter and its canopy so lush it could cover an entire city.
On the tree trunk grew a huge eye with a red pupil. The eye had lost its Vitality, like the eye of a dead fish, staring blankly in one direction until the tentacles approached, at which point the eye slowly began to move.
One after another, jet-black chains bound his eyes, covered with obscure Runes.
"The power of the Titans binds me; I cannot touch these chains. My brain is behind my eyeballs."
N'Zoth said helplessly:
"Rhonin, see if you can help me. Be careful and try to avoid making too much noise. Ysera and her Green Dragonflight Corps are the jailers of the Emerald Dream. Don't let those wretched reptiles notice."
Poor N'Zoth, only a being capable of matching him could bind him. Rhonin examined the chains carefully; the Chains of Order were marked by the passage of time, clearly the work of the Titans.
Rhonin shook his head bitterly; how could his meager magical power possibly contend with the Titans?
Just as Rhonin was about to give up, he finally noticed something amiss: a certain Chains of Order had clearly been severed and then welded back together.
What powerful being could sever the Chains of Order left by the Titans? At least, the Old Gods couldn't do it.
The weld left only a small mark, which Rhonin would never have noticed if he hadn't been very careful.
Opening this weld is not difficult; it only requires a simple spell: Lockpicking.
This spell is a human creation, and its purpose, as its name suggests, is to engage in petty theft and other illicit activities.
Ten thousand years ago, in this simple and unpretentious era, even the Night Elf race, whose magical civilization had greatly developed, did not possess this spell.
The Chains of Order binding his eyes were densely packed, numbering in the hundreds. Rhonin wasn't sure what would happen if he opened one chain. He silently recited the incantation for Lockpicking, and the welded part failed, causing the chain to break in two.
Excitement was clearly visible in his eyes:
"Oh, oh, unexpectedly. I thought you wouldn't be of much help, which would allow me to harness more power to fight back. You know, Rhonin, you've delayed the time it takes for the Nightmare to engulf the entire world. I see hope."
"I'm happy to be of help," Rhonin said politely.
N'Zoth's eyes remained silent for a long while. "In exchange for friendship, I will pay you a reward: a true prophecy. If you can decipher it, it will be like gaining a second life. Rhonin, this is a matter of life and death, remember this well."
The deep voice echoed in Rhonin's mind.
"An alluring, lithe body conceals a venomous snake, serving a creature with fangs on its shoulders."
"Seven-colored light shone brightly, innocent people turned to ashes, and blue reptiles enjoyed their dinner. A woman, cradling her two young children, waited in vain for her lover's return."