The massive, bloated body of the Old Gods moved, wriggling slowly like a worm, its target Tyrande's Altar.
Archimonde gazed at the colossal form of the Old Gods and said to Mannoroth beside him, "In my opinion, this can only be considered an avatar of the Moon Goddess. Actually, I've always wondered how the Moon Goddess could activate the planetary defenses left behind by the Titans."
Mannoroth, looking at his superior, the arrogant Archimonde the Defiler, also had moments of doubt.
Archimonde pondered for a while, then tried to guess:
"Our Burning Legion couldn't break through the Titans' defenses. I don't know if the Cute Creature Legion has that technology. How could the mysterious Moon Goddess possibly have a greater grasp of magic than the Titans?"
Mannoroth blinked his small eyes. In front of his superior, he had to act as foolish as possible, which Archimonde liked, so he answered without thinking, "Perhaps it's the Moon Goddess of the Titans Church."
To everyone's surprise, Archimonde was deeply moved, staring at his Adjutant in astonishment and gasping for breath.
"Damn it, how could I not have thought of that? I considered countless reasons, eliminated the impossible options, and no matter how shocking the remaining answer was, it must be the truth. Yes, it must be."
Mannoroth really wanted to slap himself hard.
After the initial surprise of the disappearance of three million Zandalari Trolls, the Tauren, Dwarves, Furbolgs, and other races quickly became restless and uneasy.
The Red Dragon Queen quickly gave a signal, and apart from the Black Dragonflight, the four Dragonflights simultaneously took to the air, circling around the camps of the various clans, their dragon eyes glaring menacingly.
Looking at the ferocious Dragonkin in the sky, none of the major clans dared to make a move.
Huln Highmountain's eyes darted around, and he said to the terrified Tauren Chieftains beside him, "Haha, Archaeus is such a fool. He was just talking to me about how to divide Azshara, looking so arrogant, and now he's vanished. Our biggest rival is gone, Azshara is ours."
Although there were Dwarves and Furbolg present, they were no match for the 500,000 Tauren.
Seeing that their nominal leader Huln Highmountain, was so optimistic, the hundreds of Tauren Chieftains were somewhat relieved.
"That's right, those dwarves and Furbolg couldn't compete with us. Foolish Zandalari Trolls, it's good that they're all dead. All the treasure is ours now," a Tauren Chieftain said cheerfully.
With four Dragonflights overseers in the sky, escape was impossible; all they could do was remain optimistic.
The giant worm formed from three million Trolls was so enormous that the towering Altar looked like a blade of grass at the foot of a mountain. The worm stopped in front of the Altar, but the Magic City of Azshara still did not react.
Looking at the countless mouths covering the giant worm's body, Huln Highmountain said to the Tauren Chieftain beside him:
"We should praise the Moon Goddess. With such a terrifying monster aiding us, victory is assured. The three million Zandalari Trolls died a worthy and worthwhile death. My Horde will lead the Charge in a moment; I'll go prepare now."
Huln Highmountain immediately returned to his tent. Finding no one around, he quickly took out a Rune from his pocket.
This is a Teleportation Rune, given to him by a strange Tauren traveler who foresaw a life-or-death calamity for Huln Highmountain and gave him this Rune.
With life and death looming, Huln Highmountain hurriedly activated the Teleportation Rune.
With a flash of light, Huln Highmountain appeared in a small mountain valley hundreds of miles away.
Looking towards Azshara, Huln Highmountain, who had escaped and survived, couldn't help but burst into joyful laughter.
However, three more lights soon appeared, and Huln Highmountain's smile vanished as he saw his two old neighbors, two Tauren Chieftains from Highmountain.
Haha, you're here too.
"Yes, I just arrived."
After the initial awkwardness, the three Tauren Chieftains greeted each other warmly, their understanding unspoken.
"What should we do? Each of our chieftains brought tens of thousands of people, all of whom are the Elite of their tribes. We thought we could make a fortune in Azshara, but now it seems..." A Tauren Chieftain shook his head sadly.
The deaths of three million Zandalari Trolls made it clear to all the Tauren.
However, with the Dragonkin watching over them, they could not escape and could only leave their fate to chance.
"Alas, I've mobilized all the able-bodied men of the tribe. How am I to explain this to my people?" Another chieftain was also frowning, lost in deep regret.
"How foolish! Even more foolish Archaeus!" Huln Highmountain glared with his bull-like eyes.
"Remember, we are still alive. That's the most important thing. When we get back, we must stick to the same story: our valiant Warriors fell in the great battle against the Burning Legion. We killed dozens, no, hundreds of times more enemies. Every Tauren is a hero."
"But the Burning Legion is our ally."
"Yes, our opponent is Queen Azshara."
The two chiefs each raised a question.
Huln Highmountain revealed a terrifyingly fierce look and explained:
"These details don't matter. I think the Burning Legion is more legitimate and easier for our people to accept. In short, the reputation of the Highmountain Tauren is the most important thing. Do you want future generations to condemn us as a bunch of fools? Despicable scoundrels who only cared about their own survival?"
The other two chieftains shook their heads repeatedly. The Tauren Chieftain was hereditary, and it was very likely that the position would rightfully be passed down for ten thousand years. They did not want their descendants to be disgraced and lose their chieftainship.
Huln Highmountain nodded in satisfaction. "In that case, it's simple. The chieftainship is finally secured. Once we get back, we must keep an eye on each other, and no one is allowed to speak ill of anyone."
Seeing the sorrowful expressions on the faces of his two allies, Huln Highmountain offered words of comfort:
"Don't be so pessimistic. Perhaps Elune, won't do anything to us. Maybe in a few days, our lads will return happily, carrying a large amount of spoils."
Just then, a hoarse and unpleasant voice rang in the ears of the three chiefs.
"I'm hungry! I want beef, oh, and cute Furbolg too! I want them all!"
Without a doubt, the sound came from the giant worm with its mouth full of fangs. It was the magic of the Old Gods, and even though it was hundreds of miles away, it still resounded clearly in my ears.
The three chieftains bowed their heads in silent mourning, knowing that not a single one of the 500,000 Tauren would survive.
"Let's go back to Highmountain."
Huln Highmountain's nose tingled, and she sadly waved her hand:
"Let's go back. The Kobolds are coming to attack again. It's such a headache."
The enormous body of the Old Gods opened all its mouths and spat out countless fine threads, which connected to the hearts of half a million Tauren and hundreds of thousands of Furbolg.
The Tauren and Furbolg launched a collective Charge, rushing towards the giant worm's body and disappearing into its terrifying, tooth-filled maw.
Only a few hundred thousand Dwarves remained among the lower races, trembling and bewildered, awaiting their tragic Destiny.
The Old Gods seemed quite satisfied after eating; a dense patch of bull horns had grown at her front.
Tyrande ascended the steps made of bull horns to the top of the front section of the Old Gods.
A voice came:
"Tyrande, you've done well. Leave the rest to me. Everything you desire will soon come, and you will gain eternal glory. In ancient times, this glory belonged to a fellow named Bwonsamdi, but he betrayed me, and he deserved to die."
"Praise be to the Moon Goddess," Tyrande replied humbly.