Stop

Before this, Nathanos had asked Alexstrasza whether she had ever visited a Draenei city. In truth, The Witherer himself had never seen what a Draenei city looked like in times of peace. He had only seen Shattrath and Karabor Temple. The former had been a refugee camp, while the latter had another name: Shadowmoon Temple. The city they were heading for now was neither of those places.

"This is where the Draenei heroes come to rest," Ristalan explained.

"I know. This is Auchindoun."

For the second time, Nathanos shocked the captain of the guard. On Draenor, only the Draenei knew the names of their own cities, because their settlements were concealed beneath illusion spells.

Seeing the astonishment on Ristalan's face, Nathanos smiled. "I know many other secrets as well. Perhaps that is why your prophet needs me."

"Yes. Perhaps you also know how to deal with the Iron Horde." Ristalan nodded.

"The Iron Horde? Is that what the orcs' Horde is called now?" Nathanos sensed that the captain had practically forced those words out through his throat.

"That's right. That is what they call themselves."

"A fitting name."...

Nathanos continued speaking with Ristalan. Alexstrasza walked beside them in silence. The Draenei city was magnificent, and its nighttime scenery was beautiful as well, but none of it could hold the Queen of Dragons' attention. She was torn inside, looking for an opportunity to apologize to Nathanos for what she had said in the grove. At that moment, she suddenly admired Sylvanas a little. That female elf had always believed in Nathanos unconditionally. As for herself, Alexstrasza had once felt nothing but sympathy for the Forsaken King's plight. Yet ever since he had absorbed the power of the Old Gods, the Lifebinder had unconsciously begun to ponder every word and action of