The illusion of Sylvanas was consumed by terrifying Holy Light, and Tirion Fordring's triumphant laughter echoed above the Frozen Throne.
Sylvanas, witnessing the illusion, felt as if she were being enveloped in Fervor heat. She could neither struggle nor cry out, and could only desperately wish that this agonizing torment would end soon.
With a crash, the illusion shattered.
Sylvanas was plunged into darkness, and there was no sound in her ears.
She knelt on the ground, her right hand clutching her chest, breathing heavily. After a long while, the torment of the Holy Light gradually subsided.
The soul seemed to return to the body, the functions of the decaying body were reviving, vision gradually cleared, and the body was able to perceive its surroundings.
Sylvanas was astonished to find that the old, blind Tuskarr was gone, as was the thatched hut, and even the entire Tuskarr village had vanished.
He found himself in ruins, surrounded by broken rubble, with a few charred bones and half a black Tuskarr skull among the crumbling walls, as if telling the story of what had happened here.
Next to the skull was an empty bowl, perfectly intact.
"What exactly happened?"
Sylvanas felt a wave of fear wash over her, her scalp tingling, and she cried out in alarm:
Nathanos.
The Blightcaller rushed over, also looking bewildered. As if drunk, he staggered and stumbled, saying anxiously:
"Your Majesty, this is truly strange. In the blink of an eye, the once thriving Tuskarr village has been reduced to ruins. Heavens, have we encountered a ghost?"
Sylvanas instantly regained her composure, her voice as cold as the winds of Northrend:
"Nathanos, as Forsaken, you shouldn't be frightened by such lowly Undead creatures as ghosts. Don't you feel ashamed?"
The Blightcaller, looking dejected and meek, obediently served to the side.
Sylvanas surveyed the surrounding rubble.
Orcs have always followed a policy of killing, looting, and burning everything they leave behind only scorched earth. How could a complete Tuskarr village possibly survive?
Sylvanas shook her head, realizing she had been careless, and pondered what she had just witnessed.
The blind Tuskarr sage, with a pair of eyeballs floating in Fresh Water, is a scene from the Frozen Throne, featuring the Ashbringer carrying Tirion Fordring.
This is no ordinary illusion.
This is some kind of enlightenment, a sign, a revelation of the future.
It was also a form of revenge; the condensation of the Tuskarr's hatred, their resentment towards Tirion Fordring, helped Sylvanas uncover a glimpse of the future.
Sylvanas analyzed it this way.
For someone like her, who is always filled with awe for the unknown, Sylvanas had no doubt about the Tuskarr prophecy.
"Tirion Fordring, the embodiment of the Holy Light, wields the artifact Ashbringer."
Sylvanas pondered this to herself, then shuddered, realizing a problem she had long overlooked.
"Damn it, how could we have overlooked such a potential enemy? Tirion Fordring is practically the bane of the Forsaken. Why have we allowed such a dangerous figure to live this long? Sylvanas, your comfortable life has made you forget the lurking dangers."
Sylvanas felt deeply guilty; she knew she had to take action.
Nathanos!
Sylvanas asked calmly:
"I heard you've developed an assassination poison specifically for humans."
The Blightcaller hurriedly flattered, "Your Majesty, the newly prepared poison is exceptionally effective. Just a tiny bit is enough to kill a human, and it leaves no trace."
Dragonblight, the Argent Crusade's camp, where Vol'jin and Eitrigg led the few remaining Dragonblood Orcs to garrison for several days.
Sylvanas's arrival finally put Vol'jin's mind at ease; the Dark Lady would be the most reliable ally in the fight against Garrosh.
Vol'jin and Eitrigg hurriedly came out to greet them. Sylvanas, draped in a brown cloak, asked calmly and indifferently:
"This is the camp of the Argent Crusade. Where is our great hero, Tirion Fordring?"
Eitrigg, with a fawning expression, said, "Your Majesty, we have prepared a Feast, and Tirion Fordring is the main course today. I wonder if Your Majesty will enjoy it?"
Sylvanas had already heard of Tirion Fordring's plight, and smiled faintly:
"Since Tirion Fordring is so sincere, how could I not like him?"
The Forsaken are carnivorous, and they especially enjoy raw meat.
Inside the tent made of Tuskarr fur, a roaring brazier drove away the bitter cold outside. In the center of a round table lay Tirion Fordring, surrounded by three sets of knives and forks, their sharp daggers gleaming coldly.
Seeing this strange scene, Sylvanas seemed somewhat at a loss. She picked up the dagger in front of her and played with it for a while, hesitating to make a move, and then handed the dagger to Vol'jin.
"Vol'jin, I'm unfamiliar with this way of eating. I'm wondering if meat imbued with Holy Light will harm the Forsaken. Could you please demonstrate?"
Vol'jin took the dagger and smiled, "Your Majesty, you can rest assured. We've already conducted experiments, and it has absolutely no effect on the Forsaken."
Having said that, Vol'jin Proficiency cut off a piece of Tirion Fordring's meat, fried it in boiling oil, then dipped it in sauce and chewed it heartily.
"Meat blessed by the Holy Light is the most precious delicacy in the world. Your Majesty, I'm sure you'll love it as much as we do. Eitrigg and I can't live without it for every meal."
"Looks good."
Sylvanas nodded, showing great interest.
Vol'jin was about to cut a piece of meat and hand it to Sylvanas when he saw Tirion Fordring's face turn red, and the veins on his body bulged out like venomous snakes. Then he let out a loud scream.
Blood gushed out from the wound where Vol'jin had cut his flesh, catching Vol'jin off guard and soaking him in blood.
Tirion Fordring, having lost too much blood, quickly turned pale, his eyes lost their luster, and he soon stopped breathing.
Eitrigg was shocked and quickly checked Tirion Fordring's body, only to find that Tirion Fordring's heart had stopped beating. Eitrigg shook his head at Vol'jin.
Vol'jin was puzzled. How could Tirion Fordring be dead? As a Darkspear hunter and Mastery Witch Doctor, Vol'jin's first thought was poisoning.
However, a thorough examination of Tirion Fordring's body revealed no signs of poisoning.
Sylvanas stood up, clearly displeased with Vol'jin's suspicions, and said coldly:
"Clearly, this is a case of excessive consumption causing severe hemorrhage. Vol'jin, Eitrigg, you should reflect on your gluttony; sometimes you must know when to stop."
Although Vol'jin had some suspicions about Sylvanas, he lacked evidence and couldn't think of any reason why Sylvanas would harm Tirion Fordring, so he obediently accepted the reprimand.
Eitrigg asked in a panic:
"Without Tirion Fordring, there's no Argent Crusade. How will we solve our food problem? We've also lost our leader in the campaign against the Lich King. This is a real headache."
Sylvanas stared at Tirion Fordring's corpse, hesitant to speak.
Vol'jin approached Sylvanas, bowed deeply, and said, "Your Majesty, I beg you to lend a hand and transform Tirion Fordring into Forsaken."
Sylvanas countered, "Is it really appropriate for the leader of the Argent Crusade, the embodiment of the Holy Light, to be a Forsaken?"
Vol'jin said nonchalantly, "So what? As long as we shut up all the opponents."