Loken emerged from the observation room, watching the three Dragon Kings depart with a profound gaze.
The tentacles emerging from the cracks in the stone slab spoke in a majestic voice, "With wisdom as yours, you should have foreseen the consequences. This is certainly not the act of a wise man."
Loken smiled faintly, already prepared, and said, "Slander, taking things out of context, slinging mud—these are the things living beings love to do most, to find reasons for their cruel killings. If this is the consequence you're talking about, I'm already used to it."
"Since you knew that, why did you do it? Did you really think that this three-headed lizard was capable of making a rational choice, hoping for a minuscule miracle? That's not like what you do."
The eyes on the tentacles stared at Loken, trying to guess what he was thinking.
Loken's expression was inscrutable and unfathomable as he whispered:
"Times have changed, Yogg-Saron. Those from beyond the universe will bring us surprises. I deceived Ysera; I discovered the changes in Azeroth long ago. This world, this universe, holds hope."
Yogg-Saron still couldn't understand it. He believed that Loken's actions were meaningless, and that the Dragonkin would not make choices that would benefit Azeroth because of his demonstration.
But he was a great Old Gods who managed to break free of the seal and witness all of this.
If I don't do something, I'd be doing a disservice to my status as Old Gods.
He made up his mind to tell his companions what he had seen and heard that day.
Rhonin entered a dream, and this time he dreamed of Jaina.
The two lived together and became husband and wife, but Jaina was not a family woman. She had many career commitments and was often nowhere to be seen.
Rhonin initially paid no attention, but he soon heard some rumors and warnings from a Gnome friend.
Rhonin initially didn't believe it, but he couldn't resist his Gnome friend's encouragement, so he went to catch them in the act.
Under a large tree, Rhonin witnessed Jaina and Thrall embracing and kissing each other's faces.
Rhonin was so angry he almost fainted. He strode over, preparing Fireball in his hand.
Unfortunately, the spell in the dream didn't work. Thrall casually snapped his fingers, extinguishing the fireball. Rhonin, unwilling to give up, disregarded the huge difference in their physiques and strength and swung his fist at Thrall's face.
Suddenly, Jaina turned to face Rhonin, revealing a bloodied, faceless mass, with muscles writhing like worms and exposed bone in many places. She grinned.
"Rhonin, my relationship with Thrall isn't what you think."
Rhonin was terrified by Jaina's face and tried to run away, but his legs were too weak to move.
Seeing that Thrall had opened his blood-red maw and was about to bite down on Rhonin's neck.
A red and black tentacle appeared, easily tearing Thrall.
Rhonin sat on the ground, a chill running down his spine, before realizing he was in a dream.
"Your dream is very interesting. Is this a primitive form of human reproduction? Two individuals of different sexes form a family and then reproduce."
The eyes on the tentacles stared at Jaina: "You love beautiful and intelligent beings; it's an instinct inherent in life, a desire to reproduce the next generation. In reality, it's just a lump of rotten flesh and filthy blood."
N'Zoth's tentacles thrashed, Jaina was reduced to a pool of pus and blood, emitting a foul stench.
Rhonin regained some of his composure and remained unmoved, asking, "I remember that your Old Gods also had genders."
N'Zoth said solemnly, "Gender is merely a symbol to us, a misclassification we learned from our subjects to show them kindness. It means nothing to us. Every Old Gods was astonished and could not be distinguished by simple gender."
Rhonin asked curiously, "So how do you reproduce?"
N'Zoth was silent for a moment. "When we mature, we will release spores into the universe. If multiple spores belonging to different Old Gods happen to meet on a certain planet, they will merge and give birth to new Old Gods."
"So you guys also had a childhood?" Rhonin asked again.
"Of course there are, but our infancy was spent in a parallel universe. This involves the composition of space. You just need to know that there are countless parallel universes on a planet, and most of them are lifeless, so our infancy was undisturbed."
Rhonin rubbed his forehead, trying to put those thoughts aside. "Alright, N'Zoth, what brings you here? I remember already reporting to you about Ysera's negotiations with Broxigar."
"There's been an update," N'Zoth instructed.
"All the Dragon Kings have reached a consensus: to forge the Soul, regardless of the cost. If you want to know why, it's a complicated matter; it involves a god's secret. I know of a being who knows the truth."
"Who is it?" Rhonin asked curiously.
"Zandalari Empire, Bwonsamdi who wields the power of death, I have a feeling you'll soon make contact with the Zandalari Trolls. This is a very good opportunity."
Shortly after Rhonin awoke, Malfurion visited. The Night Elf with enormous antlers asked with an expectant expression, "Rhonin, how much do you know about the Zandalari Trolls?"
"N'Zoth was right," Rhonin thought to himself.
He pretended not to know anything and explained:
"Trolls are a savage and cruel race, especially the Zandalari Trolls. They worship various Loa, and wars frequently break out between different faiths. They capture enemies to sacrifice to their own gods, and sometimes even their own relatives. Malfurion, why do you ask about the Zandalari Trolls?"
Malfurion's face darkened. "Emperor Archaeus of the Zandalari Empire has sent an envoy to Mount Hyjal and help us fight Queen Azshara. They are willing to send a million troops. Tyrande has ordered me to go and negotiate with Emperor Archaeus."
Upon hearing this, Rhonin deliberately feigned surprise and delight. "This is fantastic news!"
Malfurion shook his head, looking disdainful, and said:
"So what if there are a million Trolls? They're nothing but ants before the Highborne. Just ten Highborne —no, five are enough—are enough to easily crush them. I really don't know what Tyrande was thinking. Allying with those savage Trolls is utterly useless."
Rhonin fell into thought, unable to fathom Tyrande's intentions, which most likely stemmed from an order from the Elune.
Malfurion continued to complain, "Besides the Trolls, Tyrande also has to form alliances with the Tauren, Dwarves, Harpies, and so on. Women, I really don't know what she's thinking. Does she think she can defeat powerful magic with numbers?"
Rhonin comforted him, "Perhaps there's a deeper meaning to this."
Malfurion sighed, "I have never dealt with lowly Trolls before, nor have I ever considered negotiating with them. Rhonin, you must help me and assist me on my mission to the Zandalari Empire."
Rhonin initially refused, but after some back and forth, he reluctantly agreed.
Queen Azshara stared at the Well of Eternity, its dark waters lapping against the shore, a mysterious power of the Old Gods seeping into it.
The power from the Old Gods was extremely weak; it was neither N'Zoth nor C'Thun. Azshara carefully separated this tenacious power, on which was recorded a small piece of information.
"Troll Death God Bwonsamdi?" Azshara pondered. "Whom should I send to the Zandalari Empire?"