Inside the Royal Palace in Zuldazar, the capital of the Zandalari Empire.
King Rastakhan stared at the table laden with exquisite dishes, including roasted beef marrow and Pandaren beef and tripe sent by Thrall, but he simply couldn't bring himself to eat.
The queen's infamy had spread throughout Zandalar. Rastakhan knew the queen was innocent. At the moment of her death, he received a warning from the Loa and learned of her heroic sacrifice.
The queen's death was a silent protest, but what could Rastakhan do?
The nobles of Zandalar are all intelligent; they clearly understand that this is slander, but no one dares to oppose the great Savior Thrall. The Savior is always right, and those who resist are destined to perish and can only go with the flow.
Rastakhan was powerless against this overwhelming secular power; he hated his own incompetence and dared not defy Thrall's tyranny.
Zandalar is protected by the Loa, but unfortunately, Rastakhan was constantly reminded of Thrall's great Savior by these lofty Loa, leaving Rastakhan with no other choice.
Rastakhan sat there for a long time, then waved for the guards to leave, and silently shed tears.
A king's sorrow cannot be seen by outsiders, just like a defeated lion can only lick its wounds in secret in a corner.
"What should I do? What should the Zandalari Empire do?" Rastakhan felt his own weakness.
A gust of cold wind extinguished the array of candles on the table, plunging the room into darkness.
Rastakhan opened his eyes curiously and saw a long shadow cast on the wall. It was a very familiar figure, his beloved queen.
"My dear, is that you?" Rastakhan's face lit up with surprise. He reached out to touch the shadow on the wall, but found himself unable to move, as if trapped in Nightmare.
"Your Majesty, you look much more haggard than I have seen you in just a few days," the Queen said with concern. "You should eat more; the Zandalari Empire needs you."
Rastakhan shook his head, a bitter look on his face:
"With so much happening in the Empire, how can I eat? Thrall has gone too far! And Vol'jin and Rokhan, the Orcs wiped out the Darkspear Tribe, yet they willingly serve Thrall."
The queen gently comforted him, "They are nothing but insignificant clowns, fueling the arrogance of the Orcs and oppressing their own kind. Don't take them to heart, Your Majesty. What you should be wary of are the Loa."
"Loa?" Rastakhan frowned. The Loa were the protectors of Zandalar, but they were also a double-edged sword, influencing the King's decisions while protecting the Zandalari Empire.
"Your Majesty, the Loa are protecting our Zandalari Empire," Rastakhan insisted.
The Queen sighed deeply, "Your Majesty, humans, Humans, and others do not have the protection of the Loa. Take the Kingdom of Kul Tiras, for example; it can contend with us with just a small number of Tidesages. The Loa protect us, but they limit our development and imprison the minds of the Zandalari Trolls."
Rastakhan was well aware of this. For ten thousand years, many Kings had realized this, yet none had been able to resist. The Trolls had become accustomed to relying on the Loa: "Your Majesty, I can hardly imagine what kind of disaster the Zandalari Empire would face without the Loa: 'Your Majesty, I find it hard to imagine what kind of disaster would befall us without the Loa.'"
The queen said sadly, "It will probably be a difficult time, but I believe the strong Zandalari Trolls will overcome the difficulties and defeat their enemies with their own strength. Your Majesty, just as one day the Loa will fall one after another, please do not become too deeply entangled in your delusions and remain stubbornly unrepentant, otherwise you will ultimately destroy yourself."
Rastakhan looked puzzled. The queen didn't explain, but simply said Anjing:
"The Loa think differently from us. Short-lived beings can shine temporarily, taking a gamble for a fleeting moment of glory. But long-lived beings, especially the so-called gods, are afraid of death. They dare not take risks and can only adopt the safest approach. The Zandalari Empire has existed for eternity, but in reality, it is slowly decaying."
Rastakhan sniffed, growing increasingly distressed. "Besides the Loa, what else can the Trolls rely on to help us?"
The queen remained silent for a long time, finally making up her mind, and slowly said:
"Remember Nazmir? The glorious heart of Troll civilization, where the secrets of the Trolls ' rise are hidden. Perhaps we can mass-produce Loa, and have them completely under your control."
"Nazmir? Queen, what are you saying?" Rastakhan Thunder, "What did Zul tell you? What is your relationship with him? What are you hiding from me?"
The Queen sighed softly. Her hesitation stemmed from her fear of Rastakhan's suspicions, but Rastakhan remained unchanged. Knowing she had fulfilled her duty, the Queen could only change the subject.
"Your Majesty, Thrall intends to make Rokhan's illegitimate daughter the heir to the Zandalari Empire. This is a long-planned conspiracy involving many Loa. Our lack of children for so many years is also due to the machinations of these Loa."
Rastakhan said fiercely, "I will never let the throne of the Zandalari Empire fall into the hands of outsiders."
"Your Majesty, I hope you will remember the oath you made today. Farewell. Remember, never make a deal with the gods. The throne may change hands, but the empire cannot be destroyed."
After saying this, the queen's beautiful figure gradually disappeared. Rastakhan was in a daze and it took him a long time to come to his senses. Everything that had just happened seemed like a lucid dream.
After bidding farewell to the king, the queen looked troubled, clearly very worried.
Robbie, knowing the future course of history, comforted him, "The world has changed. The Zandalari Empire is lucky; you can relax."
The queen took one last look at the rows of ancient buildings in Zuldazar, a ripple of emotion in her beautiful eyes, and left with Robbie without looking back.
Darnassus, the Temple of the Moon, and the generals of the Night Elves gathered to discuss how to deal with the unauthorized attack on the Burning Legion.
The Emissary, still concealing his face with a cloak, appeared mysterious. He questioned him fiercely:
"Tyrande, Malfurion, what have you done? The Night Elves are destroying Azeroth! All those involved should be arrested and sent to the depths of the Vault of the Wardens, so they may never see the light of day again."
A commander of the Sentinels stepped forward and questioned, "I don't understand. Aren't the Burning Legion our enemies? They were attacking our homeland. What crime is there in destroying the Burning Legion?"
The Emissary snorted coldly and said arrogantly:
"I speak on behalf of Moon Goddess, the Elune. She deems them guilty, and they are guilty. The great Moon Goddess is older than the universe itself; her wisdom is beyond your comprehension and beyond your consideration."
Shandris Feathermoon stepped forward and asked, "If destroying the Burning Legion is considered a crime, it would discourage millions of Night Elves. Who would dare to fight the Burning Legion in the future?"
The Emissary resolutely refused to reason, simply emphasizing, "Do you dare question the Moon Goddess's decision? Do you believe that the Elune is wrong? Tyrande, what is the crime of blasphemy?"
Tyrande stared grimly at Shandris Feathermoon, and sneered, "Those who blaspheme the gods should be cast into the Abyss of Nightmares, to be condemned for eternity."