Trusting in his body's strong resistance to drugs, Zul'ra made it safely out of Nazmir and back to Zuldazar. The first thing he did was enter a deep breathing meditation to clear his mind and find out why his distracting thoughts had multiplied.
The meditation went smoothly. Zul'ra sorted through the clutter in his mind, feeling the vitality surging through his body rise and fall with his breath. It was like bathing in cool water on the hottest days of summer. His mind entered a space beyond words, filled with a profound sense of peace and joy.
His body seemed to fade away. With the slightest shift of thought, Zul'ra could feel his heart beating in his chest. Its rhythm and size, along with the distribution of his blood vessels, appeared clearly in his mind. All he had to do was focus, and he could follow those vessels to sense every organ and every blood vessel in his body.
This is inner sight, but I don't need it right now... Zul'ra sensed his body and felt a little enlightened. The moment the thought arose, his consciousness abruptly slipped free of his body, as though his soul had left it. But what he saw made him gape in shock.
The sun in the sky was bloodred, like a mass of flesh writhing. Zul'ra stared at the desolate land, bewildered and horrified. Wasn't he supposed to be in Zuldazar? How had he ended up here? Where was this place?
"Tian Sang." A familiar voice called from nearby. Zul'ra turned his head and saw a hill standing in the distance amid the desolate, silent, blood-red world. He was hallucinating again. Someone had actually called his name in Chinese.
"Come! Come over here, come to me. I'm waiting for you. Hurry!" Just as Zul'ra thought he'd imagined it, the voice came again in familiar Chinese, its coaxing tone tempting him to follow.
"Come on. Come!"
"No." Zul'ra—or Tian Sang—heard the familiar words and the enticement woven through them, and firmly shook his head. He didn't know who owned that voice, but he wouldn't fall for someone trying to lure him with Chinese.
"Don't you want to know who I am?" When Tian Sang didn't take the bait, the voice tried to pique his curiosity with a question.
"I'll find out when the time comes." Zul'ra raised an eyebrow. Was he the sort of person to let curiosity rule him?
"Don't you want to go back to Earth?"
"I do, but it wouldn't help. I'm a Troll now. If I went back, they'd catch me and cut me up for research." Zul'ra shook his head. What would happen to him if he returned now?
"You may be a Troll, but you have power. Power can accomplish anything. Think about it: you could go back to Earth and use Voodoo Magic to control world leaders, all those actresses and pretty schoolgirls, and..." The voice began coaxing him along.
"You're impressive! You can pry so many details out of my thoughts. But that sort of fantasy is way out of date." Hearing the voice, Zul'ra cut off his own contemptuous thought. This voice could read his mind, making it more powerful than Ulathek or G'hnir, but whoever it was clearly had no idea what Earth was like. Neither did Zul'ra, for that matter.
"Can't you feel even a little tempted? You're making this no fun for me." The voice turned dejected.
"Hmph." Zul'ra couldn't help giving a soft snort at the dejected tone, feeling a little smug.
"Why don't we make a deal?" The voice picked up on that trace of smugness perfectly, and its helpless tone grew even more pronounced.
"Go on." Zul'ra put a stop to his smug thoughts.
"My name is G'huun. I was once the ruler of this land, until—"
"Hello, Old God. Goodbye, Old God." Zul'ra's eyebrows jumped at the voice's introduction. With the slightest shift of thought, he instantly left the desolate mental space and returned to his body. At the same time, a roar shook the prison beneath Nazmir, but there was nothing G'huun could do.
"Ah, that feels good!" Zul'ra stretched his restored, nimble body until his bones crackled. He also finally understood: the Blood Trolls had been lured by an Old God. The source of Blood Magic was the power of an Old God. No wonder it was so twisted.
"There's one of those things beneath Zandalar too? Damn, what a rip-off. Weren't there supposed to be only five Old Gods?" After stretching, Zul'ra complained about the game company's writers, while also feeling relieved. Thank goodness for game balance.
Without that balancing mechanism, G'huun probably wouldn't have been locked in a Titan prison. If it hadn't been locked away, the Blood Trolls would be drawing on its power right now. They might not be skulking around Nazmir anymore.
"This world is dangerous. Should I warn Zandalar that there's an Old God behind the Blood Trolls? Never mind. It probably wouldn't do any good." Zul'ra thought of the threat the Blood Trolls posed to Zandalar, but put aside the idea of warning them. It wasn't that he lacked a conscience; he simply had no influence.
Zul'ra had become a Witch Doctor in Zandalar, seemingly a member of the high caste, but in the eyes of Rastakhan and the other people in power, he was just a free student auditing classes. He was still living under their roof. If he went to Rastakhan and claimed that an Old God was backing the Blood Trolls and threatening Zandalar, wouldn't he sound ridiculous?
The Blood Trolls had been in Nazmir for more than a day or two. Zandalar had always been wary of them, yet had taken no action. There must have been plenty of problems within Zandalar, which was why the issue remained unresolved. Who knew what might happen if he warned them? Besides, a little pressure on them wouldn't necessarily be bad for him.
After spending more than three years on Azeroth, Zul'ra had used his foreknowledge of the story to work out a plan. To survive in this dangerous world, he had to strike a balance that would let him grow stronger. He couldn't limit his view to one people or one place, and he couldn't recklessly gamble with his life. He mustn't risk everything until the very last moment.
As long as the green hills remained, there'd be no shortage of firewood. Even if Azeroth were destroyed tomorrow, there were probably other worlds in the universe like Draenor. Zul'ra could keep running until the day he was strong enough to defeat the Burning Legion and the Old Gods. He had learned to face Azeroth's many mountain-sized problems. For now, he'd keep his head down!
After sorting things out, Zul'ra began organizing what he knew and planning how to maintain balance and grow stronger. As for G'huun, he'd leave it alone as long as it didn't cause trouble. He'd deal with it later, when he was strong enough—or when disaster struck.
At this stage, he had no way to take it down anyway. When G'huun broke free, it wouldn't attack him directly, and the Alliance and Horde could deal with it later. As long as it didn't erupt anytime soon... Zul'ra thought this to himself. It was a little heartless, but he truly was powerless.
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