Did they choose the wrong person?
Robbie looked at Murozond with a puzzled expression.
Murozond explained in a low voice:
"The intricate Timeline of Azeroth results in the existence of countless Varians, so targeting Varian is futile. You need to choose a new target. This person is irreplaceable in Elune's plan and exists only in our Timeline. If anything happens to this person, even if Elune knows your purpose, she must resurrect them."
Robbie asked in surprise, "Does someone exist who can meet both of these conditions at the same time?"
Murozond nodded:
"Strangely enough, there is one such person who, while I cannot find his existence in other Timelines, plays a pivotal role in this Timeline —that person is Tirion Fordring."
"Tirion Fordring, the only one in the Timeline?" Robbie looked on in astonishment.
Murozond said with a serious expression:
"Tirion Fordring is a strange being. The Caverns of Time once created a fake Timeline, simulating the old Southshore, which included a young Tirion Fordring. This was Nozdormu's ambition growing, challenging Tirion Fordring's uniqueness. Unfortunately, the Timeline quickly collapsed, and neither Nozdormu nor I were able to find out why."
Tirion Fordring!
Robbie silently murmured the name to himself, never imagining that Tirion Fordring, who had suffered so much at the hands of the Orcs, was actually a unique and wondrous being.
Murozond reminded him:
"You must proceed with caution. Elune, surely understands Tirion Fordring's importance. If you truly intend to kill him, you may face a backlash from the Moon Goddess's power."
Robbie smiled slightly and said, "Don't worry, I'll use a borrowed knife to kill."
Varian awoke with a start from a nightmare.
In the nightmare, he was not the King of Stormwind City. He had five older brothers and was the King's sixth son. Because of his strong-willed nature and refusal to submit, he suffered endless humiliation and torment.
Ultimately, he fell seriously ill, and despite medical treatment, he lay in bed awaiting death.
Varian struggled to open his eyes. The nightmare gradually faded from his memory, and countless chaotic memories flooded his mind, each scene gradually becoming clearer.
He was the only son of King Llane, the King of Stormwind City, and Scourge Undead plotted to destroy the world, controlling the Evil Drakkari Frost Trolls.
Varian led an army of 50,000, fighting alongside the Horde's High General Garrosh. They first captured Drak'Tharon Keep, which had been occupied by the Scourge, and then defeated the Zul'Drak Empire's army.
Unfortunately, Varian was too arrogant. He led his army in pursuit of the fleeing Frost King Malakk, and inadvertently fell into the Scourge's encirclement.
Faced with the seemingly endless Scourge, Varian was prepared to die on the battlefield. But at this critical moment, the valiant Garrosh led the Orcs army to his rescue.
Garrosh, Gorehowl, personally led his army through fifteen Scourge defenses, killing millions of Scourge and severely wounding the Lich King Arthas with a single axe blow.
Encouraged, Varian fought valiantly and, with the help of the Dove of Peace Dove's advisors and the Royal Guards, finally broke through the encirclement and met Jaina, who had come to meet him.
"That battle was so intense that I was seriously injured. Jaina used a teleportation spell to get me onto the ship."
Feeling the bed sway slightly, Varian confirmed that he was on the large ship, heading back to Stormwind City. At this moment, he was full of strength, and his injuries had been healed. It seemed that the Priests of the Cathedral of Light were exceptionally skilled.
"Your King, you are awake."
An aide looked at him with concern, but for some reason, his gaze was somewhat evasive.
Varian had no doubts. Memories gradually surfaced. This advisor had fought extremely bravely, and in the most crucial breakout battle, he had severely wounded Kel'Thuzad, a general of the Scourge.
"I'm fine, my injuries have healed."
Varian sat on the bed and asked with concern:
"How are my 50,000 troops doing?"
The aide looked at Varian nervously. "Your King, what do you remember?"
Varian looked puzzled and said, "I remember leading the army to pursue Frost King Malakk, being surrounded by the Scourge, and barely managing to break through. Oh, and you defeated Kel'Thuzad."
The aide's expression shifted several times before finally settling on a solemn face and saying:
"Yes, it was a fierce battle. I was just lucky. I was only thinking of fighting for Azeroth, for the Alliance, and to protect His King's escape, which is why I defeated Kel'Thuzad. Unfortunately, our 50,000-strong army was almost completely wiped out."
Varian slammed his fist on the bed, burning with rage, and said:
"I am irreconcilably opposed to the Scourge and swore to kill Arthas. Regardless of the circumstances, it was my mistake that led to the annihilation of my 50,000-strong army. Upon returning to Stormwind City, I will apologize to the people and resign from my position as King of Stormwind City."
Unable to fathom Varian's temperament, his aides tentatively asked:
"Your King, what are your plans next?"
Varian hesitated for a moment, regretting his impulsive words. "I need your help. In my heart, I have always wanted to become a great King and go down in history."
The staff member, who had been holding his breath, finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that His King was still the same as before, and immediately flattered him:
"Your King, if you wish to leave your mark on history and achieve great things, you have two paths to choose from."
"What do you mean?" Varian asked, showing great interest.
The aide boasted:
"One path is fraught with hardship and thorns. You need to be strict with yourself, lead by example, live like a monk in the Cathedral of Light, abstain from alcohol and meat, refuse all luxuries, stay away from all personal enjoyment, and devote all your energy to governing the country."
Varian was stunned, and asked with a hint of lingering fear, "Couldn't you be a little more lenient?"
The advisor shook his head helplessly. "King Majesty, great achievements come at a price. Even so, you may not succeed, and you might still be cursed by posterity."
Varian pondered for a moment, then asked, "And what about the second way?"
The advisor secretly gloated and said calmly:
"The second path is to emulate Thrall, the Savior: indulge in luxury, act recklessly, be lawless, and slaughter all living beings. What do I care about the deluge after my death? Just control the historian's pen, ensure the continuation of the Stormwind City monarchy, and silence those who dare to speak ill of you, both in life and after death. You are destined to be a great King, remembered in history."
Varian snorted unhappily:
"Of course I'll choose the first option."
The aide said respectfully, "Your King, this is a blessing for the Kingdom of Stormwind and a boon for the Alliance. With your words, Azeroth has been saved."
Varian waved his hand and asked, "Alright, we've lost 50,000 troops this time. How should we deal with it?"
The advisor smiled knowingly and said:
"Your King, no one knows of the existence of these 50,000 troops. I will silence all those who know."
Varian lay back down, thinking to himself that this was the right way.
But for some reason, he felt a sense of alienation from this bed, this ship, his staff and Royal Guards, and even the whole world.
It felt as if I were a guest.