Fel Addiction

"That seems to be the power of the elements."

"Elements?" Nathanos looked at the Dark Ranger with curiosity.

Veronalara nodded, also drawn to the diverse colors of energy on the battlefield. "Some of the Quel'Thalas's tomes record this power, said to require an agreement with the elements to use. Lightning and whirlwinds are Air Elemental, fire is fire element, and those healing streams are Water Elemental. You're absolutely right, this power does indeed originate from this world itself, but..." Veronalara gritted her teeth; death hadn't diminished her hatred for the Orcs. "Why? Why are the Orcs recognized by the elements of this world? They're allied with the Troll, and the Tauren have joined them too. It seems these filthy creatures with beastly features are all cut from the same cloth."

The others, to varying degrees, displayed the same anger. Nathanos harbored some resentment, but he was mostly filled with doubt, and a glimmer of hope rose within him. The Orcs had brought calamity to this world, yet now they were being recognized. What about the Undead? Would they also be favored?

"Look at that Orcs!" Ranger Liana pointed to a figure on the battlefield; she had spotted a distinctive Orcs in the crowd. Nathanos recognized him immediately and his eyes widened— Thrall! The Orcs from Durnholde Castle?

"How is this possible?" Nathanos couldn't hide the shock on his face. He remembered that memory— Thrall had escaped his captivity, become the leader of the Orcs, destroyed Durnholde, and killed Blackmoore. He had caused quite a stir in Lordaeron, and the Alliance had tried many times to capture him without success. Clearly, this new Warchief of the Horde was more cunning and powerful than Orgrim had been. His ability to wield elemental power proved it.

"His armor, and his weapons!" Nathanos's gaze was fixed on Thrall. The Chain Lightning that erupted from the Orcs's hand instantly killed four Centaur. "It seems the rumors are true. Orgrim is dead. He gave Thrall his black plate armor and massive iron hammer, and also passed the chieftainship to him."

"Thrall?" Veronalara repeated the name, pondering for a moment. "It seems to mean 'slave' in your human language."

"Ironically, this Orcs was raised by a human," Nathanos revealed the shocking truth, still unable to comprehend Blackmoore's foolish idea. It turned out that this human, now rotting in the ground, had created a terrible enemy for his own kind.

"You're saying he's the chief? So the Horde has returned?"

"And they've received new help," Nathanos added. The Orcs have been here for some time now, and they've received assistance from the locals. These Tauren aren't simple-minded creatures either. The Horde has been reborn, though not as powerful as before, but with a wise leader, it's only a matter of time before they prosper.

The battle ended quickly, with the Horde emerging victorious. The Centaur fought bravely, inflicting considerable casualties on the Orcs.

"Should we go down and take advantage of their misery, and launch a surprise attack?" Enya asked, but immediately drew a reprimanding glare from Nathanos.

"Taking advantage of someone's misfortune? Are you sure you're not just going to your death? They have wolf riders. Even if we succeed and kill some of them, we won't be able to escape. Those wolves have a keen sense of smell, and even if we escape into the forest, we can't hide the stench of decay on us."

"I was just joking. You decide what to do." Enya smiled knowingly, with a hint of mockery in her expression.

Nathanos snorted and then gave the order, "I will follow these Orcs alone and leave a mark. You all stay within a kilometer's radius."

"Why don't we act together? And why should we follow these Orcs?"

"Shut up!" He turned and glared at Enya, who had raised the question. "The aura of death created by too many corpses following us will easily give us away, especially since most of our group consists of Ghoul and mindless zombies. As for why we're following the Orcs..." Nathanos paused, reluctantly giving the answer, "It was an instruction from that guy in my head!"

May the sunlight guide you!

This is a greeting among High Elf, but if anyone dared to mention it in front of Sylvanas right now, she would definitely go berserk and teach that guy a lesson on the spot.

The situation in Kalimdor was worse than she had anticipated. The Farstrider could perform missions in any environment, but their training hadn't included desert adaptation. When they reached land, the sun was high in the sky. This was truly devastating for the Elf. Accustomed to the dampness of the forest, the Quel'dorei were completely unsuited to this harsh environment. The high temperature caused their body moisture to evaporate rapidly, and their water reserves were dwindling; many Elf were now considering giving up.

"Lady Sylvanas, our members are feeling very unwell; this continent does not welcome us."

"Have everyone take shelter under the trees and in the shade of the rocks. Tell them to rest for a while and then set off north." Sylvanas removed her sweltering hood, but she quickly found it was no use; the heatwave whipped against her face.

"North?" The Elf who had sought her guidance asked in confusion, and casually added, "Why the north?"

"I sensed a... more primal magic," she explained, trying to describe the feeling, finding "primal" to be the most fitting word. Sylvanas had noticed changes in her body shortly after the fall of Quel'Thalas; her hair was beginning to turn gray. Others were experiencing similar changes. The unusual phenomena caused considerable panic.

This is not a disease, but a harbinger of Fel Addiction. Unlike other Elf, Farstrider have the least need for magic, yet even so, they cannot escape the shackles deep within their blood.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but most of the magic on this continent gathers underground in the north. If we can find the source, perhaps we can alleviate the impending Fel Addiction symptoms."

"I've never experienced that feeling before, ma'am. What exactly is Fel Addiction?"

"Forget about that, soldier." Sylvanas glanced thoughtfully at her slightly graying hair. "You wouldn't want to know."