The one resurrected from the Troll tomb was none other than the Emissary of the Moon Goddess. Dressed as an Orcs, the Emissary stroked the ancient writing on the coffin. The writing was sparse, recording the life story of the tomb's occupant.
"From rising in Zul'Drak, to conquering Silithus, killing C'Thun with a single blow, then entering Ulduar, destroying Yogg-Saron, and venturing deep into the ocean, N'Zoth remained secluded, leaving Azeroth Invincible opponent. In the Maelstrom, he opened Void Portal, clashing with the Void Lords, finally gaining a slight advantage. The Void Lords not convinced, so he injured one with a single blow and retreated unscathed."
"The Drakkari Frost Trolls actually have such an overpowered character?"
The Emissary was greatly surprised, but then realized that this was just the boasting that the Trolls were best at.
After stretching his body, and thanks to the restoration of the Moon Goddess's power, this body had returned to its peak condition before death, only slightly stronger than an average Troll.
Memories resurfaced in the brain; the body's name was Mad King Iggli, a former King of Zul'Drak before Frost King Malakk. He suffered a defeat in the war against the Furbolg, and later his old wounds recurred, leading to his death in despair. Apart from building himself a luxurious tomb, his life was largely unproductive.
The Emissary emerged from the tomb, gazed at the bright moon in the sky, and muttered mysterious incantations.
A milky white light descended from the sky, and the Emissary's power surged. He slowly flew into the air, coldly surveying the land of Northrend, like a god looking down on mortals who were like ants. But soon he shivered, a sense of unease creeping into his heart.
"The Lich King Arthas!"
Upon hearing this name, the Emissary immediately abandoned his contempt and became cautious, like a mouse before a cat.
A grotesque, deformed creature with a body as black as ink, long, frog-like legs, and an ugly appearance crawled out from the ground and nuzzled against the Emissary's legs in an obsequious manner. This was the Emissary's personal mount.
The Emissary leaped onto his mount, and the mutated monster could jump dozens of meters in a single bound, traversing the icy landscape as if it were flat ground, moving at incredible speed, its target Garrosh's camp.
Suddenly, the Emissary felt himself locked in place by a terrifying force and immediately stopped moving forward.
Robbie floated silently in the air, coldly observing the Emissary:
"Can you manage, messenger of Elune?"
The Emissary glared at Robbie and said hatefully, "I know you. On Mount Hyjal, you impersonated me while I was weakened. Damn it, what are you trying to do?"
"We'll all be fine staying here," Robbie said calmly.
The Emissary frowned slightly and said in a cold voice, "Step aside. I'm going to Garrosh's camp to rescue the Night Watch King. Stormwind City needs a King, and the Alliance needs a leader."
Robbie shook his head and said, "You're wrong. It's not the Alliance that needs King of Stormwind City, it's the Horde. If the Alliance didn't have a leader, the Horde would have been wiped out long ago."
Knowing he couldn't fool Robbie, the Emissary threatened:
"Since you know everything, you should understand that all of this was arranged by the Elune. In those ancient times, Elune was a being more powerful than the Void Lords, and no one could defy the Moon Goddess's will."
Robbie said nonchalantly, "How will we know if we don't try? Even Mad King Iggli dares to claim he's half a step ahead of fate, so what do I have to fear?"
The Emissary looked at Robbie with unease and roared:
"Damn it, it seems I was part of your scheme too, but what's the point? You can't stop the course of history, you can't stop the arrangements of Elune."
Robbie remained silent, though he knew that the Alliance was bound to have a leader, a historical inevitability, but that was precisely what Robbie was trying to do.
The Emissary could only remain where he was, nervously gazing in the direction of Garrosh's camp.
Garrosh was furious.
Having spent countless military resources and suffered heavy losses, Garrosh wanted an army of 50,000 from the Alliance.
The armor, weapons, supplies, and flesh of the 50,000-strong army will bring plunder to the Orcs and glory to Garrosh.
Just like the two Orcs Wars, the Orcs, far from the Dark Portal and without logistical support, relied entirely on the Alliance army to continuously send them equipment and rations.
Now that the entire army of 50,000 has vanished, leaving only the Night Watch King captured, Garrosh could not tolerate this and vented all his anger on the King.
For three days and three nights straight, Garrosh used every means to torture the poor Kites. The most horrific physical torture, coupled with the cruel Corruption of his soul by dark magic, finally broke Kites' will, turning him into a blurry mass of flesh and blood, no longer recognizable as human.
Finally, Garrosh ordered the Orcs to tear Kites apart and eat him, leaving only his skull to be made into a drinking vessel, a prized possession to be treasured forever.
Just then, Robbie stopped stopping the Emissary. The anxious Emissary rushed to the Orcs camp as fast as he could, but it was too late. All he saw was the skull in Garrosh's hand.
The Emissary messenger, enraged, roared at Garrosh:
"You damned beast, you've ruined everything! Didn't Medivh discipline you? If the Alliance didn't have King to provide you with cannon fodder, the Horde would all die."
Garrosh knew the Emissary's prestige was almost equal to Medivh's, but he was unwilling to accept it and loudly retorted:
"This is unfair! Look at these poor soldiers! We came to the frozen wasteland of Northrend, was it really to save Azeroth? My Emissary, you should understand that without war, the Orcs cannot survive. I gave everything, and what have I received in return?"
The Emissary frowned deeply. Reasoning with a wild beast was useless; he had no choice but to concede. He said helplessly:
"Give me the skull, Garrosh. I will find a way to make up for your loss, perhaps by Warchief of the Horde do so. Isn't that what you wanted?"
Garrosh gritted his teeth; his insatiable greed drove him to seek even greater gains.
"How can the position of Warchief compensate for my loss? I need Kingdom of Stormwind to become the Orcs' meat storehouse, or else don't even think about taking the skull."
Bang!
Garrosh was knocked away, and before he could get up, a long vine wrapped around him tightly.
The vines, covered in barbed thorns, spun around Garrosh's body, tearing away pieces of flesh, from which blood immediately flowed.
Garrosh cried out in pain and pleaded urgently:
"My Emissary, I was wrong. Please forgive my sins. I will never do it again."
The vines, having drunk their fill of Garrosh's blood, gradually turned crimson. Looking at the weakened Garrosh, the Emissary ceased the torment and withdrew the vines.
"Remember, Garrosh Hellscream, you are nothing but a dog. If you don't want to end up like your father, a dog of Thrall, then you'd better obey me."
The Emissary picked up Kites' skull and summoned his soul.
Only a skull remains of the body, a shattered soul Corruption by dark magic; it is beyond dead. How can a dead person be resurrected?
The Emissary messenger gasped deeply; this was beyond his capabilities.
Holding Kites' skull, the Emissary teleported to Moonglade.
A bright full moon appeared above the Emissary's head. The Druids of Moonglade, upon seeing this, hurriedly and respectfully bowed. The Emissary proclaimed:
"I need to see Remulos."