Seeing Velen's expression, Robbie knew that Grandaris had succeeded, and of course, there were unexpected gains as well. Robbie looked at the mysterious man with a very unfriendly gaze.
Velen was unwilling to accept the prophecy that the Draenei would become rotting zombies, a prophecy that greatly affected him. Velen's wrinkled face was as pale as gold paper, yet Velen still fulfilled his duty as a prophet, having Yrel record this "prophecy" truthfully.
Upon hearing that joining the Horde would turn him into a rotting zombie, Yrel almost reached for the Hammer of the Naaru on his back, as if he would smash it down without mercy if Velen agreed.
Fortunately, Velen spoke up in time, saying, "I will not let the Draenei meet this rotten Destiny," thus preventing Yrel from embarking on the irreversible path of murdering her master.
"Why not?" the mysterious man said slyly. "Are the Draenei any different from rotting zombies these days? Under your leadership, aren't they just mindless zombies too, Velen?"
"Shut up." Even someone as composed as Velen couldn't help but swear when faced with the mysterious man's aggressive and rude remarks.
"Alright, now the Draenei only have one way out, and I'm not going to waste my breath on a dying man."
The mysterious man stood up, dusted himself off, looked at Yrel, and laughed, "Don't forget our agreement before we came."
Yrel nodded reluctantly; the condition for the mysterious man's appearance was that he leave safely.
The mysterious figure repeatedly defied the prophet and acted Prophet Yrel was able to uphold her promise, which is already a rare act of kindness from the Draenei.
Archdruid Grandaris methodically tidied up the Nightmare Heart, while Major Samuelson beside him roared, "What have you done? Why did Velen reject the Horde's friendship? Do you know how long we've been planning this? His Highness is particularly concerned about this matter!"
"Who knows?" Grandaris said vaguely.
"As you requested, the illusion portrays the Draenei and the Horde as one family. The Queen's marriage perfectly embodies this great friendship. How could I have known Velen would refuse? The Dark Lady Sylvanas, the dream lover of so many, Velen's ungratefulness is truly disrespectful."
"The idea of the Queen marrying is brilliant."
Major Shanmiusen could only offer a forced compliment; he dared not speak ill of the Dark Lady, much less mention that she was actually a corpse and required various preservatives.
"But what about those Zombie Draenei? Can you explain this unexpected turn of events?"
"Heh heh, Major Shanmiusen, let me remind you, so what if there are rotting zombies?"
Grandaris, prepared, replied calmly, "The Forsaken are all rotting zombies. Do you have a problem with the Dark Lady's loyal subordinates? Or do you harbor contempt for the Forsaken? The friendship between the Alliance and the Horde is about to break in your hands, Shanmiusen. Watch your words; this is a crime you cannot bear."
"I..."
Major Shanmiusen was speechless, choked with embarrassment.
Given the Prince's attitude towards the Horde —closer than his own father—he would have long wanted to cling to Sylvanas's rotten thigh. He certainly wouldn't dare to say anything to the Forsaken, as that would be a grave sin.
"Very well, Grandaris, I will report to His Prince truthfully," Major Shanmiusen said helplessly.
"Alright, I will report this truthfully to Lady Green Dragon Ysera." Grandaris packed his bags, preparing to leave, and muttered to himself:
"Green Dragon Ysera, a giant lizard who has lost the power of her Dragon Aspects —what future can she have by following her? Perhaps the true path to Redemption lies with Nightmare Lord Xavius."
"I'll leave it here."
The mysterious man nodded and waved goodbye to Yrel. Yrel was already impatient; she had no good impression of this mysterious man at all, and immediately turned and left.
This is a high cliff with a dense forest below. You can see a clear lake in the forest, its water crystal clear and sparkling.
"I'll glide along in my parachute cape from here. Even if someone's following me, they'll be caught off guard. By the time they find their way down the cliff, I'll have already returned to my prepared body and vanished without a trace."
The mysterious man was secretly pleased with himself, quite satisfied with his retreat route.
Bang!
The mysterious man jumped off the cliff, his parachute cape unfurling behind him as he glided toward the small lake. He glanced back at the cliff, saw no one, and thought to himself that he had probably overthought things; however, it was always a good thing to consider things carefully before acting.
He tripped and fell face-first into the mud. The mysterious man spat out the mud from his mouth, put away his parachute and cape, and came to an old tree by the lake. Under the cover of weeds, there was a shady path.
Pushing aside the weeds, we entered the passage, where a small cave awaited us. A few torches illuminated the limited space, and a Dwarf lay on the ground, breathing evenly as if fast asleep.
Upon seeing the body he had prepared, the mysterious man was overjoyed and was about to reach out when he suddenly heard a noise. Robbie walked in carrying the Cursed Torch.
"Not bad, a very secluded place," Robbie said, looking around.
"You, how did you find this place?" The mysterious man was pale. He thought he had planned everything perfectly, and no one should have been able to find it. Could there be something he had overlooked?
"Have you forgotten? This world has flying mounts. I already rented a Gryphon and have it waiting nearby." Robbie grinned, sat down casually, and laughed:
"Experiment 335, this isn't our first meeting. I suspect that only when you're possessed can your immortality be restricted. Once you return to the Dwarf's body, we won't be able to do anything to you."
"It must have been the Infinite Dragonflight that told you. I knew it."
The mysterious man hung his head dejectedly, as if giving up the fight, and asked in a low voice, "But what can you do to me? Don't forget, this is the body of your friend Luobo'an. You who uphold Justice shouldn't kill innocent people indiscriminately, right?"
"I don't know what Justice is, but I'll try my best not to harm my friends." Robbie shrugged. "I just want to ask you a few questions. It would be best if you could cooperate, otherwise..." Robbie took out a small bottle of potion and shook it gently.
The gray potion emitted a piercing roar, and the steam rose, condensing into skulls of various sizes. The small bottle of potion seemed to contain countless wronged souls.
"You should remember the Deadmines, there's a part where you have to go through a nightmare. That's right, this is a slightly modified Nightmare Potion. As for the specific effects..." Robbie paused, looking at the mysterious man's increasingly grim face. "You'll experience an interesting nightmare, being roasted over a fire, and then a swarm of Murloc will pounce on you, tearing your flesh apart bit by bit."
"This process repeats continuously for a short time, only one hour. One hour is enough for most people to have a mental breakdown. It will not cause you any physical harm whatsoever. In fact, it is a method to train your mental strength, although it is a bit cruel. If you can endure it, your mental strength will increase significantly. Do you want to give it a try?"
"What do you want to know?" The mysterious man asked directly, indicating his willingness to cooperate.
"The secret of the Stormwind City Wealth Tablets," Robbie asked.
The mysterious man looked puzzled. "Stormwind City's Wealth Tablet? What's that? I've never heard of it."