The desire to become stronger is an irresistible temptation for all powerful beings.
A foolish Murloc may not understand the allure of power, the value of philosophy and art, the greatness of civilization, or the significance of magical progress.
But he must yearn to become stronger.
Countless powerful beings, in their quest for greater strength, have willingly succumbed to the corrupting influence of Fel, becoming mere pawns of the Burning Legion.
How intelligent could a Murloc be? Varimathras felt he was close to success.
Sure enough, the Murloc phantom on the Altar showed a look of longing, like a thirsty traveler in the desert seeing an oasis.
"Then what is the price?" the phantom of Fisla asked yearningly.
Varimathras smiled slightly, "A fair trade. The Legion grants you powerful Fel, and you will serve the Legion. To gain something, you must give something in return. Someone as intelligent as you should understand this principle."
"That's fair," Fisla nodded and said.
Varimathras sneered inwardly. Yes, the Legion was willing to accept powerful beings as allies and grant them Fel energy—a path to becoming stronger—but this was only the beginning.
Afterwards, they will face countless trials of war, various invincible Evil enemies, brutal infighting within the Legion, inhuman competition and elimination, and countless hardships are just beginning.
The oasis that thirsty travelers see in the desert is ultimately just a mirage, a complete illusion.
Sometimes, Varimathras regretted not joining the Burning Legion and instead living a peaceful life as a lord on some small planet or as a god of evil.
But once you've boarded the Burning Legion's pirate ship, there's no turning back. You never know when you'll die in some corner of the universe, like a piece of trash, forgotten by everyone.
Fisla yearns for the exciting world outside, unaware that Varimathras also envies his life.
"Tide Lord, so you're willing to accept Fel?" Varimathras asked with a grin.
"I yearn to become stronger. I feel the power surging within me, I feel the powerful Fel calling to me, but I refuse," Fisla said resolutely.
"Refuse? Why?"
Varimathras, finding this strange, refused to give up and continued speaking eloquently:
When you look up at the starry sky, don't you yearn to see more, to witness more? Above the stars lie countless wondrous worlds, all sorts of wondrous life, and unimaginable civilizations. Don't you want to see the outside world? The universe is incredibly vast, while you are merely confined to a small pond. What is the meaning of such a life?
"The meaning of life lies in experience and lived life to the fullest. As a Murloc with ideals, you should live a life of passion and excitement. The Legion has opened a door for you, leading to a wonderful universe, yet you have refused this great honor. When your life comes to an end, you will regret your refusal today."
"I yearn to become stronger, and I also want to go out and see the world," Fisla paused, then suddenly said, "And then you turn me into sashimi?"
"Sashimi?" Varimathras stared in disbelief, astonished by the Murloc's astonishing thought process. "Why would you think of that? How could we possibly turn you into sashimi?"
"Oh, I forgot, you're the Burning Legion, so you're going to turn me into a grilled fish?" Fisla said with deep concern.
Varimathras was somewhat bewildered, thinking to himself, "Can we not talk about food? Did I come all this way just to discuss recipes?"
"No, we, the Burning Legion, have no interest in food. I think there might be some misunderstanding between us," Varimathras explained.
Fisla scoffed, "But the Orcs don't do that. They devoured the humans of Lordaeron, the High Elves of Silvermoon City, and the civilians of the Dalaran Kingdom. Now they're coming to the Echo Isles to eat the Darkspear Trolls and my murloc Murloc. We Murlocs are not food. I will not let the Orcs have their way."
There's something wrong with this Fisla; someone must have tipped him off. Varimathras is already certain of that, but he doesn't know who's behind it all.
The clever agree with lies and gain benefits, while the ignorant believe in lies and are harmed or devoured.
In Varimathras's view, Fisla was not a clever man and should have been deceived by lies. Without guidance, how could he not have seen through Thrall's lies?
Seeing that temptation failed, Varimathras decided to try a different approach: coercion.
"You insignificant Murloc, you are powerless against the mighty Burning Legion. If you do not submit, Fel tear your body apart, and your soul will be trapped in eternal torment and agony within the Fel Forge."
Can I take this as a threat?
Fisla seemed unfazed, as if he had already prepared himself, and countered with:
"Does the Burning Legion conquer the world through threats? The Burning Legion symbolizes Flame, while I hide in the depths of the ocean. Water can extinguish fire; what can you do to me, you little Dreadlord?"
Varimathras grinned mockingly and continued his threat, "Do you know why we are called the Burning Legion? We can ignite the oceans of a planet, and you will be reduced to ashes in the raging flames."
"Then bring it on!" Fisla looked at Varimathras with disdain. "My power is beyond your imagination, Dreadlord. Even if the entire world perishes, my will will remain."
"Damn Murloc!" Varimathras thought bitterly, realizing he had failed.
The Humans aren't exactly intelligent; they're prone to being stubborn and inflexible. Someone must have already explained everything to him beforehand. No matter how well Varimathras explained it, he couldn't change Fisla's obstinate beliefs.
"Not good."
Years of combat instinct and a keen sense of crisis led Varimathras to sense impending danger.
He flapped his wings rapidly, used a levitation spell, and fled towards the sky.
Fortunately, Varimathras was alert. As he took to the sky, he saw a mountain-like wave crashing down on the Murloc village. The towering wave, like a sharp blade, easily tore apart the Burning Legion's soldiers.
The Murloc villagers, captured by the Burning Legion, protected themselves with bubble magic and were completely unharmed. Varimathras floated in the air, and could vaguely see a huge Murloc shadow appearing and disappearing in the giant waves.
Tide Lord Feisila.
Varimathras and Fisla stared at each other for a long time before finally flapping their wings and leaving in frustration.
He sensed that this matter was not simple and that there must be a mysterious mastermind behind it. Not daring to act on his own, he reported the situation to Archimonde in detail through the Legion Communicator.
In Dalaran, Archimonde received Varimathras's report and became increasingly suspicious. Who was behind Fisla's instigation? To be able to persuade a stubborn Murloc like that, this person must be no ordinary individual.
Could it be... Queen Azshara?
Archimonde was very suspicious, which made him even more hesitant to act rashly.
Unable to persuade Fisla, Varimathras wouldn't give up; he had other plans.
Murlocs are stubborn and not easily persuaded. They need to find intelligent people. In Varimathras's view, intelligent people are more easily tempted and more easily deceived.