The Demon Inquisition spoke of the power of the Death Wraith, but other Demons disagreed.
"I've heard of the Death Lord's abilities and I'm familiar with his Death Wraith skills, but this sacrifice alone isn't enough to make the Wraith's power so great."
Deep within the pyramids built by Aman'Thul, the Death Wraith forms a gray-white line, rushing straight toward the Tomb of Sargeras. This is the enemy of life, and wherever it passes, all living beings turn to ashes.
These Demons from the Void knew they could not escape. Losing a body was nothing to them; what mattered was figuring out the reason for their defeat, as this was essential for gaining experience.
A member of the Demon Inquisition scoffed, "The sacrifices on the Broken Shore alone are certainly not enough. What if we add the millions who died on the Broken Isles? How many of them were innocent lives?"
"But the carnage on the Broken Isles wasn't caused by us," another Demons questioned.
One of the members of the Demon Inquisition pondered for a moment, "The mastermind on the other side has methods we can't even imagine, shifting the cost of the Death Wraith onto us. Although the slaughter in the Broken Isles has nothing to do with us, it's now being attributed to us."
When the Wraith Power within the pyramid surged into the Tomb of Sargeras, all the Demons inside were rendered powerless to fight.
"Knowledge is power. Our enemy is more powerful than we imagined, capable of shifting between good and evil. Vengeful spirits have targeted innocent people like us. We have lost."
Faced with impending defeat, all the Demons calmly self-destructed, leaving no trace. After making a huge sacrifice, Aman'Thul finally conquered the Tomb of Sargeras.
Antonidas's suicide squad finally stormed into the room containing the binding Magic Circle. Aman'Thul obtained the Tomb of Sargeras and, eager to acquire a powerful avatar, was so overjoyed that he failed to notice the commotion inside the pyramid.
Sylvanas and Antonidas joined forces and destroyed the binding Magic Circle as quickly as possible. They dared not delay, Antonidas quickly opened Portal to Theramore, leaving with the surviving suicide squad.
A light rain fell on Theramore, washing away the dust and cleansing the streets. Sylvanas, having escaped, stood Anjing in the rain, gazing at the surging sea, tears welling in her eyes.
"My Forsaken, my Fel Elves, my Iron Horde, all gone, Illidan! I will not let you get away with this! I swear, I remember the plot of the Broken Shore!"
Sylvanas gritted her teeth in hatred, hating not only her own greed and ambition, but also her own cowardice and weakness.
Antonidas looked helplessly at the Dark Lady. History had indeed repeated itself once again. When you are afraid, you will compromise with the other party. When you compromise, the other party will devour you completely, leaving not even bone fragments.
Back then, Silvermoon City Dalaran were devoured alive by Orcs simply because they feared the Guardian Medivh.
Sylvanas now fears the forces supporting Illidan, and has no choice but to compromise with Illidan and cooperate with the so-called Savior, only to quickly lose everything.
The Forsaken remaining in Undercity are few in number, mostly scholars and support staff. Moreover, without Frostmourne, dark magic and Plague alone cannot sustain a large army of Forsaken, since corpses cannot be created out of thin air.
The Fel Elves of Silvermoon City were never many to begin with, and now only the old, weak, sick, and disabled remain.
Fortunately, Draenor exists. Although the Iron Horde is mostly trapped on the Broken Shore, the foundations of the various Orcs Horde intact.
In addition, Mannoroth had reserved a portion of his army to defend against the Draenei, and with just over a decade of reproduction, he could build another large army.
Antonidas stepped forward and advised, "Your Majesty, there is no need to worry. I suggest we enter Draenor World. You can still be the Warlords of Draenor, and leave Azeroth to the Alliance."
Sylvanas bit her lip hard and nodded. Though unwilling, this was the only way.
The Horde suffered heavy losses, and Undercity and Silvermoon City were difficult to defend. Fortunately, Draenor existed. All that was needed was to destroy the Dark Portal, and the two worlds would be cut off from each other.
Decades later, Sylvanas can rebuild the Iron Horde and still make a comeback.
"Alright, let's go back to Draenor."
Antonidas cast a spell to open Portal to Draenor, a spell he was very familiar with, but unexpectedly failed. Antonidas was stunned for a long time, then cast the spell again, but still failed.
"Your Majesty, someone has altered the Magic Beacons of Draenor; I can no longer find the coordinates of Draenor World."
Sylvanas opened her mouth, but after a long pause, she finally uttered a vicious sentence. "It must be Mannoroth, he betrayed me."
In Hellfire Citadel, Mannoroth had a comfortable bed built for himself, made entirely of the finest Adamantite and Khorium, large enough to accommodate his massive body. This was his throne, the symbol of his power.
After the Broken Shore was sealed off, Mannoroth understood that the Iron Horde would not be returning. Now that the Orcs chieftains had all gone to war with the Iron Horde, he held the most power among them.
"Gul'dan, Grom Hellscream, Sylvanas, haha, you didn't expect me to have the last laugh, did you? I am the true Warlords of Draenor! This is my world, my territory! I, Mannoroth, have finally become the master of this world! I am the great king!"
Mannoroth was smug. The sycophantic Orcs crafted a crown for him and placed it on his head. Wearing the crown, Mannoroth pondered how to transform the Orcs in his own way.
He would never allow the Orcs to become powerful, and vowed to turn Draenor into his own private playground.
"I have the Orcs of the Iron Horde under my control. As for the Ogres and Draenei, they are insignificant to me. I will wipe them out sooner or later. Haha, what a lovely day!"
Mannoroth lay comfortably on his throne, squinting his small eyes as he contemplated his glorious future.
Just then, a green Legion Portal suddenly appeared in front of Mannoroth's bed, and a Thunder voice rang out from within. "Mannoroth, have you forgotten who you serve?"
Mannoroth was so frightened that he rolled off the Khorium bed, ignoring the crown that had rolled to the side, and flashed his most obsequious smile, "Great Lord Archimonde, Mannoroth will always be your servant."
Aman'Thul was unconcerned upon learning that Sylvanas had escaped; he was overwhelmed with the joy of victory.
Entering the Tomb of Sargeras as a victor, Aman'Thul finally met the embodiment of the ignorance he had been seeking.
This is an incredibly massive Demons body, filled with mysterious power, making it virtually indestructible.
"A bunch of idiots who think the avatar of the Tomb of Sargeras is Demons incarnation. What avatar of Sargeras? It's hilarious. They have no idea that it's merely a tool used to cast the Key to the Worlds."
Aman'Thul placed the Key to the Worlds in the avatar's right hand. The avatar slowly stood up, silently gazing at Aman'Thul, awaiting his command.
Archmage Khadgar, Prophet Velen, Grom Hellscream, and Orcs chieftains were all gazing at their Savior, "Illidan."
Aman'Thul looked at Khadgar and Velen with a mocking gaze. "You keep talking about saving the world, and now I'll tell you what you've done?"