Big Candle Gagg looked immensely pleased with himself as he shook his head and said, "Human boy, listen carefully. Once you get to Draenor, there's one person you must watch out for. Official records say fifty people took part in the Dark Portal campaign, and one of them was unidentified. This person is extremely dangerous."
Robbie's lips twitched slightly when he heard that, and he didn't know what to say.
Apart from the nameless cannon fodder, all fifty heroes in the battle to cross the Dark Portal had names. The unidentified person could only have been a player. As players grew in the game, they became heroes of Azeroth, which was why they were qualified to take part in such a major campaign.
Yes, this was the real world of Azeroth. There couldn't be players who resurrected infinitely, so who was the fiftieth person? That was worth pondering.
Since they followed different paths, there was no point in working together. Before the Dark Portal, Robbie decided to part ways with Big Candle Gagg. As they were about to separate, Big Candle Gagg began nagging again:
"Human boy, once you reach Draenor, don't waste your time. Make sure you hurry and grow stronger. The stronger you are, the higher your status will be, and the closer you can get to the truth of history. If you can control the entire world, you can even write history however you please. When you understand what it means to sacrifice your life for a righteous cause, you'll come back and join me..."
Robbie fled.
News of the Whelp Smuggling Association's destruction had yet to reach them, and all was peaceful before the Dark Portal.
Hardly anyone paid attention to the Alliance portal to Draenor. A few Alliance guards leaned against rocks, lazily basking in the sun. The banner above the portal hung listlessly, too lazy to stir even when the wind blew. It read:
"March on Draenor, and everyone gets a reward."
By contrast, a long line had formed before the nearby Horde portal. It was packed with people, with shouts and horses' whinnies filling the air. The place was bustling.
The Alliance and the Horde had entirely different attitudes toward Draenor. In the eyes of Alliance adventurers, the Dark Portal on Draenor had already been destroyed, and the Iron Horde wouldn't be coming through anytime soon. There was no need to risk their lives fighting that bunch of energetic Orcs.
Besides, people had to think long-term. Once the Iron Horde was wiped out, who would get its territory? That was a serious question. The Orcs had every right to inherit the Iron Horde's territory. How could the Alliance compete? They would be doing all the work for someone else's benefit.
Although the Alliance leadership had offered generous rewards and promised everyone a gift package, very few Alliance members entered Draenor.
The Horde's side, meanwhile, was wildly popular. Almost everyone had turned out.
The reason was simple. Although Vol'jin had become the Horde's Warchief, everyone knew that the old Troll had always been in Thrall's camp. The Orcs still dominated the Horde, and Orgrimmar remained its main city. The Orcs had long since had enough of the desolation of The Barrens. When they heard they had a chance to fight their way back to their homeland, they rushed to Draenor as though they'd been injected with chicken blood, each trying to get there first.
With the Orcs setting an example, and Thrall enjoying enormous popularity in the Horde—his word was law, his promises carried great weight, and he commanded respect on all sides—it was perfectly natural that, under his vigorous call to arms, the Horde would flock to Draenor.
Robbie walked up and said he wanted to go to Draenor in search of adventure.
A guard glanced at Robbie and casually handed him two forms. "Fill these out first," he said listlessly. "Make sure you do both copies."
Robbie took the forms and filled in his name.
The guard took the forms back and froze for a moment. He looked closely at Robbie and exclaimed, "You're that Robbie who offended Thrall the Savior?"
Good news never traveled far, but bad news spread a thousand miles.
Robbie's expression didn't change. "That would be me."
The guard stamped one of the forms and handed it back to Robbie. "Don't lose it. Once you're through the portal, you can exchange it for a set of equipment: an old-style honor gear set made in Alterac Valley, with a weapon included. Good luck, adventurer."
A weapon made in Alterac Valley? Could it be the famous two-handed hammer, Might of Menethil?
The Stormpike Dwarves' craftsmanship was beyond reproach, and their reputation was excellent. The Alliance leadership really was willing to spare no expense for the campaign in Draenor!
"Hey, got a light?"
Three Orc guards who were slacking off crept over with homemade cigarettes between their teeth. Their sharp tusks were stained yellow, as though coated in butter. One look was enough to tell they were veteran smokers.
Ever since entering Azeroth, the Orcs had begun to fall into bad habits. Siabi tobacco came from Stratholme in Scourge territory. Produced by the Undead, it was of excellent quality and guaranteed to be a fine product. The taste lingered long after a smoke, and the Orcs loved it.
A Dwarf guard handed over a smoker's lighter. The three Orcs squatted behind a rock and began puffing away, clearly enjoying themselves. Now and then, one punched another, or another gave one a slap. They made crude jokes without a care and grinned and laughed. They got along very well; one look showed they were comrades-in-arms and good buddies.
One Orc stared hard at Robbie and suddenly said, "I know you. You're the human who beat Thrall's head into a pig's head, Robbie the Defiler."
This was bad. He'd been recognized. Robbie quietly clenched his fists. In the game, Orcs valued honor above all else. By the look of things, a duel would be hard to avoid.
Soon, Robbie realized he'd been overthinking it.
Another Orc narrowed his eyes and chimed in, "I'm so jealous. Why didn't I get an opportunity like that? If I could beat Thrall up, I could become a squad leader."
You? Robbie couldn't help grumbling to himself. The Orc was so poor he couldn't even afford armor. He was bare-chested, showing off his muscles, with a vine for a belt and his toes sticking out of his boots. Even his battle-axe was chipped. If he wanted to challenge Thrall, he should get a decent set of equipment first.
"That's all you aspire to? You're hopeless." The third Orc blew a smoke ring and spat. "If I beat Thrall, I'd definitely demand a night with Agna. Heh heh, that thick waist, those sexy, hairy legs, those delicate, sharp tusks, that rough, dark skin... Just thinking about it gets me excited."
"With that little body of yours, watch out, or Agna will drain you dry."
"I heard even Thrall can't handle her. He's been gathering tonics everywhere."
The three Orcs laughed wickedly, teasing without restraint and holding nothing back.
Low-ranking Orc soldiers were bad-mouthing their leader behind his back and joking about his wife. Was that really all right?
Robbie suddenly felt that this was what the real world was like.
Poor Orc soldiers who couldn't even afford a lighter couldn't possibly respect their spiritual leader from the bottom of their hearts. Not all Orcs were single-mindedly devoted to honor. Life had oppression and injustice, people bearing humiliation and heavy burdens, but also relaxation, entertainment, and vulgar tastes.
An Orc who looked like an officer came over in a rage.
The three slacking Orcs reacted with remarkable speed when they saw their superior. They put out their mostly smoked cigarettes as fast as they could, carefully wrapped them up, and tucked them into their boots. Then they all stood straight, heads high and chests out, their expressions solemn and fearless in the face of death. Even if Sargeras had stood before them, they would have been confident they could crush him.
"You three idiots are slacking off again! Get back to your posts!" The Orc officer shouted a few more rebukes and gave them a few lashes with his whip. As they were parting from the Alliance guards, the Orc officer suddenly stood at attention and saluted. His expression was solemn as he shouted:
"May Thrall's head be forever green!"
The three slacking Orcs immediately roared in unison:
"May Thrall's head be forever green!"
Robbie was dumbfounded. What kind of slogan was that?
Weren't the Orcs' slogans "LOK-Tar" and "For the Horde!"?
"May Thrall's head be forever green." What was that supposed to mean?
Robbie kept reminding himself that this was another world, an unfamiliar Azeroth, with different civilizations and beliefs, entirely unlike Earth's culture. He mustn't put blind faith in the game's setting. He had to stay calm and take strange things in stride.
Reading ten thousand books was no substitute for traveling ten thousand miles, and traveling ten thousand miles was no substitute for transmigrating to another world.
If he hadn't seen and heard it for himself, Robbie would never have believed that this was the slogan Orcs used in everyday life.
At that moment, none of the four Orcs shouting the slogan, the few idle Alliance soldiers, or Robbie himself knew its true meaning. Nor had any of them seriously considered why such a baffling slogan was going around.
If Robbie had grasped the meaning of the slogan earlier, he wouldn't have encountered so many hardships and obstacles later on, and his experiences would have been much less eventful.
But there were no what-ifs in life. The message Thrall had gone to such pains to convey wasn't deciphered until many years later.
After that little interlude, Robbie put the form away and walked toward the portal to Draenor.
The Alliance guard had already warned him that entering the portal to Draenor could expose him to all kinds of illusions. There was even an extremely small chance of encountering a great existence and becoming much stronger after receiving guidance, or of mysteriously disappearing. In short, he would bear the consequences himself.
Put plainly, the portal was of limited quality, nowhere near the standard of Archmage Khadgar's work. There was a tiny chance of encountering aliens. Kind aliens would offer benefits, while malicious ones would capture people for experiments. Naturally, the latter were in the majority.
As soon as Robbie entered the portal, he found himself floating amid endless stars and the depths of space. His soul and body seemed to have separated. He had no sensation and couldn't control his body; only his thoughts and consciousness remained active.
"Good thing I'm not claustrophobic, or I'd definitely be anxious."
Everything went smoothly, and he was just about to drift into the portal at the other end when three strange orbs of light suddenly appeared beside him.
One was shrouded in green flames and filled with an evil aura. Another was covered in icy mist, with occasional flashes of golden light. The last was shrouded in black-purple flames and flickered unsteadily.
"Surely I can't be that unlucky. There really are aliens, and I've run into three at once."
Robbie shuddered in fright. He'd have been lying if he said he wasn't scared.
"Haha, I won! You blind bastard, pay up, pay up!" the frost-covered orb roared.
"Damn it, that's despicable! You teamed up to cheat! Damn, I forgot you two almost became relatives," the green orb said, unwilling to accept the result.
"All right, down to business. The latest news is that the Horde has sent a special envoy to Draenor. Their objective is to enter Stormwind City as it was thirty-five years ago and find the secret Gul'dan failed to uncover back then." The orb shrouded in black flames had a deep voice and sounded quite serious.
"Who is the Horde's envoy?" asked the orb spewing icy mist.
"The astral mage's son, test subject number 709, Med'an."
The icy orb said coldly, "A formidable figure. We paid such a great price to protect the secret back then, so we absolutely can't be careless this time either. But without the Dark Portal, how will the Horde get into Azeroth as it was thirty-five years ago?"
"Through the spatial rift at Karabor Temple. I investigated it thoroughly back then. It's definitely possible," the green orb answered.
"Nothing can be allowed to go wrong at Karabor Temple. How is the Alliance handling this? Who did they send?" the icy orb asked.
"The princess!"
"A woman is far too likely to botch things. I'm afraid she may not be suitable," the icy orb said worriedly.
"No problem!" The black orb was full of confidence. "The princess is now a remarkable Priest."
"I'm afraid that still won't be enough. The Dark Prince will certainly assist Med'an, so we need to add another person on our side," the icy orb said seriously. "The time hasn't come yet, and it wouldn't be appropriate for any of the three of us to show ourselves. What do you think of this young man? Let him stay by the princess's side."
"He'll do."
The icy orb approached Robbie and said smugly, "The three of us are renowned far and wide. Everyone in Azeroth knows who we are, so there's no need for introductions, right? I know you admire me. That's not your fault. I can't help being so handsome."
How the hell should I know who you are? Robbie cursed inwardly, frustrated that he couldn't speak.
"Don't rush, and don't panic. When you feel the beauty of life and find a purpose, you'll come to know the power of the Holy Light. You were born blessed by the Holy Light, and your power is enough to change the world. Young man, uphold justice, protect the princess, and run toward Draenor!"
The icy orb was impassioned, overflowing with enthusiasm and fervor.
Who is this shameless guy? Do aliens get chuunibyou too? Robbie grumbled inwardly.
"This idiot's acting up again. How did I lose to him in a one-on-one fight beneath the Frozen Throne back then? I still can't accept it!" The green orb floated over and said to Robbie, "Human, once you reach Draenor, you'll meet a human woman who wears a blindfold like a headband. Use every means you can and pester her relentlessly. You must become her follower. Otherwise, heh heh, I'll make a comeback next version, and I definitely won't let you off."
That's a blatant threat! Does he think I'm a pushover? Should I agree, or should I agree?