The shadows of the trees swayed, reflecting countless fragments of sunlight.
Velen gave the man a serious look. The fiftieth person from the mysterious Dark Portal —this wasn't the first time the two had met.
Deep within Velen's pupils, countless lights and shadows converged, swirling like stars.
In this man, Velen saw countless uncertain futures, like chaotic, colorful fragments piled up haphazardly.
"Each fragment represents a face, and each face represents a life experience, just like before—indistinct, a vague and unpredictable Destiny."
Velen sighed inwardly, his expression somewhat doubtful.
"Alright, let's begin."
The two sat facing each other, with a purple Soul Crystal between them, one of the seven Ata'mal Crystals, a gift from the Naaru to the Draenei, granting Velen the ability to see the future.
They both drank the Insight Potion and, under Velen's guidance, entered a meditative state.
As the two meditated, the Soul Crystal seemed to respond to their calls, shining and pulsating, swirling and dancing around them in a chaotic rather than orderly manner.
Countless illusions of the future are rushing towards the two of them.
Robbie stood to the side, carefully observing the two who seemed to be asleep.
As an observer, a transmigrated soul from another world, Robbie harbors an uncertain skepticism about the prophecy.
According to Robbie's understanding, prophecy should be a process of summarizing all known conditions and then deducing the result. However, real life is composed of many uncertain and minute factors, which leads to an extremely large number of known conditions and a correspondingly astronomical amount of calculation.
"For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lost; for want of a horse, the rider was lost; for want of a rider, the battle was lost; for want of a rider, the kingdom was lost."
With such an extremely low probability, what prediction could possibly be possible?
In the Azeroth, where various magical forces intertwine, Robbie still cannot believe in the accuracy of prophecies.
Looking at Yrel beside her, she seemed to be in a serious and focused state, but unfortunately, her restless eyes betrayed her true thoughts; the little vixen was somewhat absent-minded.
"Yrel," Robbie, keeping his voice down so as not to disturb Velen's meditation, "That's not the right attitude of yours. Prophets don't have many opportunities to make prophecies; they should learn more and observe more."
Yrel, who had been lost in thought, suddenly awoke. Seeing that Velen was already in deep meditation and she couldn't hear her, she muttered, "Actually, I've studied prophecy."
Have you studied this? How well have you mastered it?
Yrel glanced uncomfortably at the sky, rolled her eyes, and said, "I once used the Soul Crystal to predict the price of leather three days from now, and I got three possible outcomes: the price will rise, the price will fall, or the price will remain unchanged."
Using prophecy in this way, he's definitely a complete money-grubber.
"Is this any different from having no prophecy at all?" Robbie was getting agitated.
"So, I simply don't have the talent for this." Yrel was quite nonchalant, wagging her tail and saying dismissively, "Why waste your brains on this?"
As Velen's disciple, Yrel also held a skeptical attitude towards the prophecy.
After drinking several bottles of Insight Potion, both Velen and the other man were somewhat exhausted.
As a great Prophet, Velen possesses extraordinary mental power; however, capturing and maintaining visions of the future, and treating illusions with detachment, all require Velen's own efforts.
The mysterious man, merely a spectator, felt utterly exhausted, almost breathless, due to the vast difference in strength between the two.
Velen did not hide anything; his voice was completely calm as he recounted the prophetic visions, which were recorded by Yrel standing nearby.
In these prophecies, no matter how hard the Draenei try, the Dark Star will descend, the Karabor Temple will be destroyed, countless Draenei will die, and only a few will survive.
"This is not the Destiny of the Draenei," Velen said unwillingly.
After resting for a while and regaining some energy, Velen was about to activate the Soul Crystal to prepare for the next round of illusions.
"Prophet Velen," the mysterious man said, panting heavily and looking exhausted, "Why not consider my suggestion and see if the Draenei's Destiny will take a new turn?"
"Great forerunner, the Draenei need your guidance." Velen's aged face radiated anticipation; he had been waiting for these words for a long time. In the prophecy, the Destiny of the Draenei was in the hands of the mysterious figure.
The mysterious figure possessing Luobo'an chuckled, a ruthless glint in his eyes. "Prophet Velen, there's really no need for any prophecy. The future is clear and obvious, laid bare before your eyes. Velen, all you need is for you to control the Dark Star."
Robbie's heart skipped a beat; this mysterious man was quite interesting.
"Control the Dark Star?" Velen could hardly believe his ears, staring at him in shock. "Forerunner, do you know the origin of the Dark Star?"
"Isn't it just a fallen Naaru?" the mysterious man said nonchalantly.
"You actually know the truth." Velen's eyes were filled with shock. He was now beginning to believe that the mysterious man did indeed have the ability to predict the future.
The mysterious man's expression became increasingly exaggerated; he simply stood up, baring his teeth and brandishing his claws, and said:
"The Orcs are nothing but a bunch of backward natives. They've observed for centuries, yet they still can't figure out the true origins of the Dark Star. But you are the great and wise Prophet Velen; controlling the Dark Star is a piece of cake for you. With the Dark Star, this inexhaustible source of shadow, not only the Iron Horde, but even Archimonde and Kil'jaeden will have to be wary. The Draenei will be safe. My Prophet, I am unworthy to follow you faithfully, to assist you in subduing the Iron Horde, unifying Draenor Planet, and then joining Azeroth in conquering Argus, making the Burning Legion pay for their blood debts."
Velen's expression froze, like a statue, as he murmured, "The Naaru will not forget us, the Holy Light is with us."
"Hey! Lord Velen, give me a straight answer, are you going to agree or not?" The mysterious man said, feeling wronged and dissatisfied. "Yrel, and that Robbie, you two be the judge. Am I not considering the Draenei's interests?"
Well...
Robbie stroked his chin, having to admit that the mysterious man's suggestion was excellent. The Shadowmoon Clan Orcs had been observing the Dark Star centuries, and even such a backward race could come up with a way to control it, let alone the Prophet Velen.
The Dark Star belongs to the Draenei, if Velen so desires.
Without a doubt, the Prophet Velen was a complete old stubborn man, with a single-minded mind. This had nothing to do with how much knowledge he possessed, but was more a matter of his innate personality.
"Yrel, what do you think?" Robbie knew he couldn't convince Velen, so he decided to shift the blame.
Yrel recognized the Dark Star as a fallen Naaru. She had no concept of the Naaru's power, only that it sounded very strong. Yrel licked her lips and asked:
Is it worth a lot of money?
"You can have as much money as you want," Robbie tempted.
Upon hearing this, Yrel's eyes lit up, and she shook Velen's shoulders vigorously. "Prophet, this deal is worthwhile, let's do it."