Once inside the great tree, Su Ming's conversation with Xavius went unexpectedly smoothly. The former elven chancellor, now a grotesque satyr, was remarkably friendly toward his Little Black avatar.
The big fellow's smile was somewhat sinister, but he had always been a villain. A warm smile on the face of a demon like a satyr naturally looked savage.
Being a Symbiote host was simply too convenient. When dealing with those who worshipped the Old Gods, he did not even need to prove his identity. Letting them see tentacles growing all over his body was enough to settle every doubt.
Of course, there were tricks to it. The Old Gods were hostile toward one another, so when impersonating N'Zoth's emissary, he could only produce countless tentacles—and those tentacles could not have eyes.
The moment tentacles grew eyes, he would be seen as a follower of C'Thun, the God of a Thousand Eyes, and therefore N'Zoth's enemy.
"My master sent me to help you eliminate Malfurion Stormrage."
"N'Zoth ag qam! Let the tides carry him into the master's dream and make him kneel! Wither! Corrupt! His flesh shall become a surging tide of blood! And we shall dance in ecstatic frenzy beneath the master's blessing!"
The conversation was that simple. Su Ming merely disguised himself as some sort of Divine Emissary and said one sentence, yet Xavius was completely worked up.
The enormous satyr threw back his head and laughed, clutching his belly. The twisted red blade-like horns across his body trembled continuously, producing faint rattling sounds.
Deceiving the Old Gods' servants was actually quite easy. Though those creatures were not entirely mindless idiots, their underlings generally had no means of contacting their superiors.
In other words, N'Zoth would only contact his disposable servants when he happened to remember them, assigning them