Medivh's Response

"What do you mean?" Lothar asked, his face full of confusion.

After a moment of disbelief, Medivh's face filled with fervor, his body trembling with excitement.

"I'm saying, there never was a Divine Emissary Hu Feng! Everyone was deceived! Only a few Night Elves probably know! The Divine Emissary is the will condensed by the God of Magic! No wonder I couldn't sense a physical body! No wonder it felt like the Divine Emissary didn't exist in this world!"

Now it was Lothar's turn to look incredulous.

"You're saying... the one standing below us now is a Titan God?"

Medivh nodded rapidly, his eyes fixed on Hu Feng's figure as he walked into the inner city with King Adarman.

"Alright, I can't figure it out, and I don't want to think about it. The minds of deities are beyond my comprehension." Lothar shook his head and pulled Medivh along. They also had to attend the welcome banquet at Stormwind Keep.

The banquet in Stormwind City was not much different from the banquets of the Highborne. As night fell, Stormwind Keep was brightly lit, and the largest side hall was bustling with activity.

A group of human mages, a rare sight, attended the banquet. However, their true purpose was to corner those flashy Highborne mages and question them relentlessly.

Lothar was currently gesturing animatedly with several Spellblades, seemingly discussing martial arts.

Medivh was struggling with whether he should muster the courage to approach Hu Feng for a chat. Just as he was caught in this internal debate, he suddenly saw the Divine Emissary Hu Feng walking towards him with a wine glass.

"Medivh, the new Guardian."

"You... hello, sir, I..." Before Medivh could finish, his vision went black, and he found himself in a swirling golden space.

What's going on? The gods have no reason to attack me! Even if I discovered the truth, they wouldn't kill me to silence me!

Hu Feng smiled, "Stop overthinking. This is just my spiritual world. I assume you've already discovered my identity."

Medivh chuckled sheepishly, "Uh... yes, Divine Venerable. I started suspecting when you were in Hero's Valley."

Hu Feng nodded, "Good perception. But that's not the main point. Otherwise, I wouldn't have specifically pulled you into my spiritual space."

"Please, tell me!"

"It's about you, and it's the main reason I came to Stormwind City. You need to be mentally prepared for what I'm about to tell you. Of course, I'll also tell you how to deal with it, and it will require your cooperation."

Medivh nodded fiercely, his heart filled with unease and curiosity. What major issue could he have, besides being the Guardian? Could the Divine Venerable be too...

"You are Sargeras."

Pfft!!!

The conversation in the spiritual world lasted for a long time. Externally, it only felt like the two had paused for a few seconds before returning to normal.

Medivh sat back in the soft chair behind him, looking utterly dejected, his eyes somewhat vacant. Hu Feng pulled over another chair, sat next to Medivh, and patted his shoulder.

"Alright, pull yourself together. Where's the pride of a Guardian? Didn't I already tell you how to deal with it? Just follow the plan step by step, and you'll be fine."

Medivh nodded upon hearing this, rubbing his face vigorously with his hands.

"That's right, we are in the driver's seat now. With precautions and countermeasures in place, the Evil God will not win." Medivh was an optimist, full of confidence in everything. He only became gloomy and irritable when Sargeras was in control.

However, he quickly drooped again, "But Divine Venerable... just thinking about the Evil God being inside me makes me feel sick... Can't we speed things up a bit..."

Hu Feng ruffled Medivh's wavy hair, "Don't be impatient! I must remind you, you need to keep a calm mindset and use all your energy to conceal this part of your memory. If necessary, you can voluntarily give up control."

"Okay, I understand. One last question... does the Dark Portal have to be opened?"

"Yes, it must be opened. Such good labor, so much land and resources – only a fool wouldn't want it."

******

Draenor.

The once glorious and magnificent Karabor Temple had become hell.

Ruined walls, fires still smoldering everywhere, and the corpses of Draenei lay scattered across the ground.

The few surviving Draenei were tied together in long chains like livestock, being roughly dragged away by the Orcs.

Warchief Blackhand kicked a corpse aside and strode towards the city outskirts. A messenger ran up, panting, and saluted.

"Warchief! Several glowing, strange, giant creatures helped the Draenei! Prophet Velen and the remaining Draenei have boarded a large ship that can float in the sky and have escaped!"

"Damn it! Didn't I tell you to kill them all, no matter what!" Blackhand kicked the messenger seven or eight meters away, roaring.

Gul'dan's figure appeared behind Blackhand. "If it was the Naaru who saved the Draenei, then the Horde cannot catch them. Those aerial fortresses of the Holy Light have likely already left Draenor."

Blackhand smashed the stone wall next to him with a fist, his face filled with unwillingness. "So, we just let it go?"

"No, of course not, my Warchief." Gul'dan laughed hoarsely. "I've been having the same dream repeatedly, with a being guiding me. Now, we just need to wait..."

"Soon, the Horde will gain a new world, a brand new, vast, and incredibly fragile world. There, you will get everything you desire, Warchief, whether it's the Draenei or endless slaughter."

Blackhand believed this completely. His intelligence was severely lacking; apart from his terrifying martial prowess, he was useless in all other aspects. Blackhand was Gul'dan's obedient puppet.

"Then what should we do?"

"I will tell you, Warchief, but first, we need to build something... or rather, a gate."

Orgrim and Durotan galloped their direwolves across the land of Shadowmoon Valley, heading towards Nagrand.

"I'm increasingly certain that what Gul'dan brings is not just power, but more destruction and self-destruction."

Orgrim agreed with his friend but was also somewhat uncertain. "It can't be that serious, right? No matter how powerful Gul'dan is, he can't destroy a world, can he? No Orc can do that." He paused. "Not even the Gronn."

Durotan shook his head, his mind full of worries. "I don't know, but my premonition has never been so strong. I think we should prepare for it."

"Make sure no other clans learn of your thoughts. This is a sensitive time, and any display of perceived weakness will bring utter disaster," Orgrim cautioned his friend.

Durotan nodded, his heart filled with bitterness. Is only madness that destroys everything considered bravery?

What has happened to the Orcs?