Su Ming knew that on Azeroth, contracts had never been much of a guarantee. The Burning Legion, which had destroyed countless worlds, used another method of control—like raising dogs.
They would grant mortals some immensely powerful fel abilities, then tempt them into doing easy tasks and use the opportunity to offer generous rewards. Next came slightly harder tasks, followed by another reward upon completion. The cycle continued.
It was like training a dog to fetch a frisbee, feeding it a piece of jerky every time it brought one back. Humans could be domesticated even faster than animals, because human desires were more complicated.
Power, wealth, status, lifespan—there was always a reward that suited someone.
What they did should not be called trading. It should be called breeding. And no one could go back on it. Even if they came to their senses and realized they had fallen under a demon's control, fel energy would already have flowed through their entire body. There would be no turning back.
Khadgar was extremely sensitive to the phrase "negotiating terms." As a Mage, he knew demon tricks all too well.
He immediately took two steps back, feeling the back of his robe already soaked through. This strange man who called himself the Sorcerer Supreme made him feel as though he had no secrets before him. Every word struck straight at the heart. It was terrifying.
"What exactly are you? Some astral creature capable of reading other people's thoughts? Or an Old God?" Khadgar felt a deep fear and prepared to call for help.
"You're the Old God. Your whole family are Old Gods." Su Ming landed irritably and had Strangle retract its helmet, revealing his face. "I'm a standard human. I already told you, I'm the Sorcerer Supreme."
"Don't think you can fool me."