As a cunning Orcs chieftain, Ner'zhul was not so easily fooled; he still had reservations.
"Ner'zhul, what are you still hesitating about?" the mysterious woman asked.
"This magic is beyond my comprehension. I've heard that countless terrifying creatures lurk in the Void. What if we find ourselves in a dangerous world?"
"So that's what you're worried about." The woman sneered, "All magic comes with danger; crisis and reward go hand in hand. If you have concerns, you can stop the ritual. I thought Orcs were all brave."
"No, I am the leader of the Orcs, I must consider the Orcs' sake." Ner'zhul was still hesitant.
The woman remained silent for a long while before saying, "I admit that this magic is extremely dangerous. Deathwing had the same concerns as you back then, but he ultimately took the risk and succeeded. You should know that there are very few Black Dragons left in Azeroth. The future of the Orcs rests in your hands, Ner'zhul."
Deathwing's success finally gave Ner'zhul hope and made him lower his guard.
"That's right, the Orcs are driven to desperation. Their only option is to fight to the death, find a new world to thrive, and one day they will return with a vengeance. The Orcs' wrath will surely destroy Azeroth."
Ner'zhul's gaze was incredibly fierce. Putting aside his concerns, he began casting the spell as instructed by the woman.
Kel'Thuzad carefully observed the ritual and couldn't help but sigh. This magic was extremely complex, and even Archmage like him found it difficult to comprehend its subtleties.
However, something surprising happened.
As Ner'zhul cast his spell, black Spatial Rifts appeared in the air, and terrifying spatial power surged out, forming an indestructible storm. Fortunately, three artifacts protected Ner'zhul and the entire Black Temple.
Among countless despairing Spatial Rifts, one rift radiates an unusual light, clearly leading to a beautiful New World. Here, the entire planet is covered in green vegetation, with a misty atmosphere, azure oceans, forests, grasslands, snow-white peaks, and strange creatures living freely on the land.
Who would have thought that Ner'zhul would actually succeed back then?
"Not bad, Ner'zhul, you've actually found New World. That surprises me." The woman's voice held a hint of amazement, then she sneered, "Poor Ner'zhul, you don't know that Orcs will never have the chance to enter this world."
Terrifying spatial power poured forth relentlessly, seemingly without end. The earth tore apart, and seawater flew into outer space. Ner'zhul finally realized the mistake he had made and roared, "Damn it, you deceived me!"
The woman chuckled:
"Yes, you are so ignorant. The Black Dragonflight received my help back then. The only difference is that the Black Dragon King's understanding of magic was far superior to yours. He spent decades searching for New World, so he didn't use spatial power to tear the earth apart. You, on the other hand, are an ignorant fool. Spatial power will shatter Draenor. This is the price the Orcs pay, the revenge from Azeroth."
The woman's voice faded away. Ner'zhul helplessly watched as the powerful spatial forces tore the continent apart. He could only memorize the spatial coordinates before leaving the Black Temple.
Afterwards, because Ner'zhul was captured alive by Kil'jaeden, he never had the opportunity to reveal this secret to his people.
Robbie anticipated some gains, but he didn't expect it to be a New World's coordinates.
Kel'Thuzad could hardly hide his joy:
"Prince Highness, Azeroth is a chaotic world. The existence of the World Soul has attracted various forces throughout the universe, and this world is destined to be turbulent. The Scourge is unwelcome; perhaps we should move on to a new world."
Arthas hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and said, "The Scourge's duty is to eliminate the Orcs and protect the Azeroth. We cannot shirk our responsibility."
Robbie, however, had a different idea, advising, "Arthas, have you forgotten your original intention? From the very beginning, our goal was to resurrect the people of Lordaeron, to free them from their Undead state, and to make them human again."
Arthas gazed at the howling winds of Northrend, clenched his fists, and said, "I will never forget that my father betrayed the people of Lordaeron; this is a debt owed by the House Menethil."
Robbie said seriously:
"The resurrection of the people of Lordaeron will reveal the truth behind Lordaeron's destruction, causing widespread resentment and leading to more wars. After the Scourge drives out the Orcs, the people of Lordaeron should be able to live in peace."
Arthas nodded. "I understand. Once the people of Lordaeron have returned to human form, I will send them into a new world, far away from the chaos of Azeroth."
The process of opening up New World is never peaceful, and keeping secrets is even more important. There is no better place than the remote Northrend, so the Scourge built a fortress at the Frozen Throne, making it their base for opening up New World.
The Scourge's vanguard reached Mount Hyjal and, led by the Lich Reki Winterfrost, launched a probing attack. The situation was not optimistic, and Archimonde listened with a grim face as Reki Winterfrost reported on the battle.
"We underestimated the Night Elf race." Reki Winterfell felt extremely frustrated, avoiding Archimonde's gaze as he said evasively, "Just as we expected, the Night Elf race are skilled archers, but their arrows are only basic enchanted products, lacking power. After strengthening our armor, their arrows became completely useless."
Archimonde waved his hand and said, "I want to know how you failed. A thousand brave Legion soldiers died. You must explain."
Ragi Winterfrost was terrified and hurriedly explained, "Mount Hyjal is an ocean of forests, home to countless towering ancient trees, many of which are nearly ten thousand years old. This is the result of Druid magic."
"Get to the point," Archimonde said impatiently.
"They are Ancient of War. There are too many Ancient of War hidden in the forest. They are indistinguishable from ordinary giant trees and have cut off our retreat. The soldiers of the Legion are very brave, but the power of the Ancient of War is even greater."
Archimonde was slightly startled, then roared, "You foolish Lich, has the cold damaged your brain? Why don't you use fire? We, the Burning Legion, destroy the world with Flame; have you forgotten the true meaning of burning?"
Reki Winterfrost hung his head dejectedly and innocently explained, "Mount Hyjal has abundant rainfall, and Fire Elementals is extremely scarce. I heard that Ragnaros, the Firelord, is helping them, and even Fel Fire cannot burn."
"A mere Firelord dares to sabotage the Legion's grand plans? He'll pay the price sooner or later." Archimonde slammed his fist on the table. "If the Fel Reaver production line is operational, how can the Ancient of War possibly stand against the Legion?"
The Eredar technician standing nearby quickly lowered his head, worried about Archimonde's wrath.
After venting his anger, Archimonde calmed down. "The fact that the Night Elf race could produce a genius like Queen Azshara shows that this race is quite outstanding. Although they rejected magic, they have been preparing for ten thousand years, so it's not surprising that they have such strength. It's a pity that their courage couldn't withstand the conspiracy. Let Thrall come to see me."