Salathas, Utterly Miserable

Natalie Sailin returned safely, without a single wound on her body. She had clearly not suffered any abuse.

When asked about the details of the kidnapping, Natalie did not elaborate. She merely said that the dark artifact had been taken away. As for who had taken it, she did not wish to say. They would reveal themselves soon enough.

The Horde's incredibly stubborn and self-confident Warchief could not keep that artifact. Only two endings awaited him: either he would be killed by that evil dagger, or he would discard it early and seal it away once more.

However, it seemed Natalie Sailin had misjudged things this time.

Kalimdor Continent, the Horde capital of Orgrimmar, Warchief's Hall.

Garrosh gripped the Blade of Darkness tightly, studying it carefully while trying to sense the artifact's power.

You were a warrior, so why did you insist on playing with this spellcaster stuff? Did you even understand it?

Well, Garrosh did not understand, so he could not sense any energy fluctuations.

"Does this require some kind of incantation?"

The Kor'kron War Shamans standing in the hall immediately shook their heads, indicating that it did not—or perhaps that they simply did not know.

"Fine... little dagger, I command you to open your eye and lend me your power!"

It was completely useless. The eyeball in the center of the dagger remained tightly shut.

Garrosh extended a thick finger and forcefully poked the closed eyeball.

"Open your eye! Now!"

Just as brother Garrosh began trying to pry the eyeball open by force, something strange finally happened.

A female whisper suddenly echoed through the Warchief's mind.

"You succeeded... Orc... You defeated every competitor and grasped me in your hand. Now... I will lend you my power. You will become incomparably powerful. The mortal world will no longer satisfy