A Discussion on the Feasibility of Velen Controlling the Dark Star.
It is entirely possible in practice; Velen has the knowledge and the capability to do so.
But Velen's personality...
Robbie shook his head, sighed deeply, and realized it was hopeless.
Seeing that Yrel also supported him, the mysterious man felt a surge of hope, his face beaming with light. "Prophet, I know you have concerns, worrying about being scorned, but this concerns the safety of the Draenei. As for your personal reputation, put it aside if you can."
Velen remained as sturdy as an old tree, his face as expressionless as a clay statue, only muttering repeatedly, "May the Holy Light protect us, the Naaru will not abandon the Draenei."
The mysterious man gasped, but managed to remain patient and advised again:
"Prophet, this concerns the future of the Draenei. It's not appropriate for you to act as a dictator. How about we hold a vote to see how many Draenei support it and how many oppose it? The minority should submit to the majority. What do you think?"
Not all homeless people have lost themselves...
"Ugh, you old stubborn fool! Why won't you listen to any advice? You're driving me crazy!" The mysterious man's face turned ashen with anger, and he jumped up, cursing loudly.
"Now I finally understand why the Draenei are so miserable. It's all your fault, you old bastard! Don't think you're some kind of Prophet; you're the Demons who dragged the Draenei into this Abyss, a bloodthirsty executioner. You squandered a winning hand; you're an idiot. If you don't die, the Draenei will never have a way out. You are responsible for the Draenei's tragic Destiny."
The mysterious man is right; Robbie thinks he deserves a thumbs up.
To think that Velen could lead the Draenei, who possessed interstellar travel technology, to the point of being bullied to death by the backward Orcs, Velen truly remarkable. His low emotional intelligence, stubbornness, and inflexibility are unparalleled.
"Okay, okay."
Velen remained completely unmoved by reason. Seeing that persuasion was futile, the mysterious figure reluctantly gave up. "Prophet Velen, if you refuse the path to heaven, don't blame hell for having no way out. You have two paths left: first, sacrifice yourself to purify the Dark Star; second, join the Horde. Perhaps the Horde can help you turn things around. But then, the Destiny of the Draenei will be in the hands of a bunch of barbarians. Our survival or destruction will be entirely in their hands. Are you willing?"
"The Naaru will not abandon us; the Holy Light is with us."
The mysterious figure's face darkened. "Very well, Prophet, let's see if the Horde can show leniency and treat the Draenei kindly."
The mysterious man sat down again, gritted his teeth, and drank the Insight Potion. Velen reached out and activated the Soul Crystal, and the two entered a meditative state once more, trying to capture the chaotic fragments of the future.
Cooperate with the Horde?
Robbie's gaze swept across the creek to the dense thicket of weeds on the other side.
"Now, the time has come."
Archdruid Grandaris cast a spell on the Heart of Nightmare, and countless black and red auras, like earthworms, slowly dissipated into the air, transforming into invisible Nightmare power that quietly extended towards the other side of the river.
Velen's prophecy is about capturing a scene from the future, searching among those fleeting fragments of images to find a path suitable for the Draenei.
Grandaris used deception, confusing the Nightmare -like dream with prophetic illusions to deceive Velen.
Shanmiusen watched the Archdruid cast the spell with meticulous attention, his face expressionless. "Grandaris, have you remembered the key points I gave you?"
"Just rest assured, cooperate with the Horde and defeat the Iron Horde, maintain a close and harmonious relationship with the Horde." Grandaris also entered a meditative state, beginning to weave false illusions.
Amidst a series of vibrant illusions and tragic chapters of destruction, Velen suddenly discovered a glimmer of hope. He was overjoyed, for he had finally found a clue to the path to the future. The illusions he captured were so vivid, as if he were actually there.
The perpetual numbness on Velen's face vanished, replaced by a fleeting moment of overwhelming gratitude.
"The Holy Light has not abandoned the Draenei, "Velen murmured to himself.
The illusion gradually unfolded, so vividly real, that Velen and the mysterious man found themselves within it.
Karabor Temple.
The Iron Horde, led by the Seven Heroes of Draenor, surged ashore like a tidal wave.
Beside Velen, a mighty and invincible army stood ready, Horde warriors from Horde Azeroth Continent eager for battle.
"Warriors of the Horde, advance! Drive the Iron Horde back into the sea!"
With a shout, the mighty Tauren Warriors charged to the front, meeting the Iron Horde head-on. The earth trembled continuously, and the Iron Horde soldiers became dizzy, fell, and turned into mincemeat under the Tauren Warriors ' iron hooves.
The Orcs Warriors raised their Battle Axes, howling as they reaped the lives of the Iron Horde. It was a one-sided massacre, as easy as cutting leeks.
The Darkspear Horde's poison-infused javelins streaked through the air with streaks of green light, each one claiming a pitiful life.
Sylvanas's archers formed a dense formation, raining down arrows upon the Iron Horde. Even their thick armor could not withstand the terrifying barrage, and the Iron Horde fell in rows like rice being harvested.
Not to mention the Blood Elves ' magic and the Goblins ' powerful high technology, the destruction of vast Iron Horde, and the Horde's reaping of the Horde was as easy as autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves.
Clearly, the battle-hardened Veterans of the Horde in Azeroth are far more powerful than the Iron Horde.
A tall Orcs clad in black plate armor and wielding a warhammer stood beside Velen, like an impregnable Castle, his sharp fangs gleaming coldly, a contemptuous smile playing on his lips.
With such a powerful ally by his side, Velen felt incredibly secure.
A massive shadow appeared behind the Iron Horde, obscuring the sun. It was an adult Gronn, Velen recognized as the fearsome dragon Dragon Slayer Gruul.
On Gruul's broad back stood an arrogant Orcs.
Thick black hair cascaded down his back, and a black tattoo adorned his chin. He wielded a Bloodlust Battle Axe with great force, emitting a piercing shriek.
Grom Hellscream, chieftain of the Warsong Clan, who never gives up.
The tall Orcs beside Velen suddenly leaped up and charged at the massive Gruul. With a simple punch, Gruul's enormous body crashed to the ground.
The tall Orcs returned in an instant, carrying the Warsong Clan chieftain as if he were a chick. The arrogant and powerful Orcs chieftain trembled and wept bitterly.
"Velen, great Prophet Velen, I was wrong. I shouldn't have made an enemy of the Draenei. I surrender!" Grom Hellscream knelt on the ground, wailing and begging for mercy.
Velen was moved to tears; this was the future the Draenei needed.
"My dear, what are you thinking about?" Velen wiped away his tears, turned around, and looked at his beloved wife. Velen's first wife had perished during their tumultuous interstellar escape. The fact that the noblest woman in the Horde was willing to marry her moved Velen deeply.
Sylvanas smiled gently, holding a baby in her arms.
"Look at the fruit of our love, Velen." A strange, eerie red light shone in Windrunner's eyes.
Velen happily took the baby, anticipating its adorable rosy cheeks and smiling face.
What is this? A pile of rotting bones, a zombie baby with a bluish-purple face, maggots crawling around in the baby's mouth and eyes, giving Velen a strange smile.
Velen felt as if he had fallen into the dead of winter, trembling all over.
He whirled around, looking at the Draenei behind him— Yrel, Samara —familiar faces now all strangers, their bare bones exposed, maggots crawling all over them.
"Welcome to the Horde, Velen, and your Zombie Draenei." Sylvanas smiled eerily, extending her hands to Velen.
"This is not the Destiny of the Draenei," the Prophet Velen cried out in anguish.