Vol'jin hung his head in silence, eating Pandaren flesh as he pondered.
Vol'jin's rise to prominence has allowed him to replace Eitrigg as Thrall's chief military advisor.
The two had a series of private clashes, and in the end Vol'jin far surpassed Eitrigg in both strategy and personal strength, Eitrigg to willingly concede defeat.
Thrall gazed at the map of Azeroth hanging on the wall, pointing towards Kalimdor: "This continent will eventually be named after me. We will slaughter all intelligent races and become the masters of this continent."
Eitrigg quickly offered a toast, flatteringly saying, "Great Warchief Thrall, you are truly the Savior."
"Don't forget Pandaria," Vol'jin said calmly. "Chen Stormstout still has some uses. If managed properly, the Pandaren will provide us with a steady stream of rations."
"Haha, tender Pandaren meat, chewy Tauren meat, I'm really looking forward to the happy life ahead."
Thrall was still not satisfied after eating a Pandaren. He waved his hand, and his men brought over a cleaned Tauren and heated up a large pot of oil.
Thinly sliced beef was briefly dipped in boiling oil until crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. Dipped in a delicious sauce, it quickly released an incredibly enticing aroma. Listening to the Tauren's agonizing howls, Thrall was in high spirits and ate heartily.
Eitrigg flattered from the side, "The Orcs used to live a miserable life in the barren Draenor. It was thanks to Thrall Warchief, the great Savior, that we Orcs could enjoy such a rare delicacy in Azeroth."
"Well said!" Thrall chuckled coldly.
"I will reduce the Tauren and Pandaren to livestock, so they can provide us with a constant supply of meat. This is the honor I bestow upon them. Only the Orcs are worthy to be the sole intelligent race of Azeroth."
Chen Stormstout stared in astonishment at everything inside the tent, his body trembling like a leaf, drenched in sweat, his clothes completely soaked. This Pandaren had been completely dominated by Thrall's cruelty and ruthlessness.
"This is your Savior, Stormstout. Now you've seen it all. They're plotting against your people, and you almost fell for it," Robbie whispered.
"This, this is terrible."
Chen Stormstout's facial muscles trembled, his eyes filled with terror. He wiped the sweat from his brow, staring blankly around, muttering, "A pitch-black night, a brutal Orcs Camp, tents made of Pandaren fur, the bone forest of the Darkspear Trolls, Thrall and Vol'jin eating our Pandaren flesh."
"This is abnormal; it can only happen in the deepest parts of a nightmare." Chen Stormstout suddenly showed a hint of doubt, then his gaze Steadfast, his eyes becoming as clear as spring water:
"Constant dripping wears away a stone; the key lies in perseverance. Calm your mind and savor life; a great darkness lurks within me." Chen Fenglie suddenly revealed a relieved expression, exhaled a long breath, and calmly said:
"I see, I almost fell for it and nearly caused a disaster."
"It's not too late," Robbie said.
Chen Stormstout, quietly observed Robbie, then suddenly revealed an expression of utter indifference, chuckling, "Truly brilliant. If I hadn't cultivated my mind at the Shado-Pan Monastery, I definitely wouldn't have passed this test."
"A test? What nonsense are you talking about?" Robbie suddenly sensed something was wrong.
Chen Stormstout confidently declared, "Who am Stormstout? I am Pandaria's foremost hero, a master chef, a highly skilled adventurer, and unparalleled in my mental cultivation. I have absolute confidence in my judgment. Thrall and Vol'jin are not like that; they are the great heroes of Azeroth, truly good people."
Pointing to the golden tent, Chen Stormstout said with a smile, "What are all these things? Such an absurd scene is nothing but a false illusion. We Pandaren will inevitably undergo a test of our character after gaining true friends. This illusion is too real; it almost fooled me."
"Damn it, this isn't an illusion, it's all real!" Robbie exclaimed angrily.
Stormstout grinned, reciting the wise words of the August Celestials, and confidently declared, "Can you stand alone atop the mountain, enduring the wind and frost, until the sea turns to mulberry fields and the mountain sinks to the bottom? Besieged on all sides by wind and frost, unmoved as a mountain, unshaken through the ages. Begone, inner demons, you cannot affect my heart. Thrall, Vol'jin truly is my best friend, otherwise I wouldn't have attracted this trial of inner demons."
"Inner demons?" Robbie didn't know what to say. While the Pandaren's mental cultivation was indeed advanced, it could sometimes have drawbacks, such as difficulty in distinguishing between reality and illusion.
"Stormstout, wake up! You're making a mess of things for your people! I'm not some kind of demon," Robbie tried to remind him.
The Stormstout, acting erratically and incoherently, continued to mutter:
True wisdom resides within me, and in the choices I make. My inner demons possess overwhelming power, but can I make the right choice? If Destiny decrees that the Pandaren become rations for the Orcs, I accept it. What sorrow is there in living, what bitterness in dying? Pandaren's life is but a sweet dream after a midday nap in the bamboo forest.
Robbie was speechless, utterly exasperated. If possible, Robbie 'd love to kill Stormstout and avert a catastrophe for Pandaria. But time has a way of mending things; Stormstout is dead, and another Pandaren will take his place.
This once again proves that some things that are destined to happen cannot be changed.
Robbie decides to give Stormstout one last chance:
"Chen Stormstout, though I don't understand your mental cultivation, I know that all cultivation methods only target your will and spiritual power, and won't harm your physical body. Now I'm going to let you taste true pain."
Robbie unleashed his true power, punching Stormstout in the face.
Stormstout tried to dodge, but found itself unable to move. This was Arcane Magic Paralysis, far more powerful than the magic of this era. Stormstout couldn't understand it and could only attribute it to the mystery of an illusion.
With just one punch, Robbie sent Stormstout's nose gushing blood and his face completely disfigured.
Stormstout remained confident, muttering to himself:
"It was just a nightmare. The Sha stirred up my inner demons, testing my loyalty to friendship. I was only seeing illusions. I, Stormstout, am a hero of my stature, and I will not be fooled."
Robbie ignored the confused Pandaren and just kept punching him until his bones Hamstring, his flesh was mangled, and countless ribs were broken, while using magic to keep him conscious.
This level of injury wouldn't kill him, but without advanced treatment, it would be enough to keep him bedridden for months. Stormstout gritted his teeth and persevered, firmly believing that what he was seeing was just a nightmare and that he would eventually wake up.
Robbie carried the badly injured Stormstout back into the tent, then quietly left.
Chen Stormstout lay on the bed, drunk and in excruciating pain that made it difficult for him to fall asleep.
"Why does this nightmare feel so real? Why can't I wake up from it?" Chen Stormstout spat out a mouthful of blood, hesitated for a moment, and then laboriously rummaged through his pack for medicinal herbs to heal his wounds.