Beast's Eye

In Azeroth, the Source of Consciousness lay hidden in the deepest recesses of people's souls. It was a manifestation of each person's deeper consciousness, and often took the form of the environment they most longed for and felt most at home in. Each person's Source of Consciousness was usually different, often shaped by an adventurer's class, experiences, and beliefs. Some people-those who had never mastered a proper method, such as Meditation-could go their entire lives without ever quieting their minds enough to explore and examine the Source of Consciousness deep within their souls.

Generally speaking, hunters' Sources of Consciousness mostly manifested as wilderness plains, ruled by countless beasts of every kind, though there were exceptions. Some hunters, such as Troll hunters, often had Sources of Consciousness that manifested as jungles.

Druids' Sources of Consciousness, meanwhile, were mostly seas of green. This had to do with their frequent use of Hibernate to enter the Emerald Dream. As the only class capable of entering that dream of their own accord, these Druids inevitably had their Sources of Consciousness influenced by it. Some even reproduced a portion of the Emerald Dream in its entirety-or at least its appearance.

Mages' Sources of Consciousness were more orderly, reflecting their talents. Those of mages skilled in frost spells were mostly ice fields, while those skilled in fire spells mostly had seas of flame. The strangest and most peculiar Arcane mages generally had oceans of Arcane energy.

Priests' Sources of Consciousness were closely tied to the deities they worshipped, often matching the divine realms where those deities dwelled. Those of Dwarven Priests who worshipped Khaz'goroth, Titan the Forger, often appeared as furnaces or smithies, while those of elven Priests who worshipped Elune were mostly tranquil forests bathed in moonlight, usually with Moonwells, flowing springs, and unicorns. As for the Priests of the Old Gods-well, who the hell knew what was going on there? All you needed to know was that they were thoroughly twisted, evil places.

Finally, few people generally knew anything about Warlocks' Sources of Consciousness. This terrifying class, fallen into darkness and toying with souls, was so evil and secretive that its practitioners, who kept company with demons and the undead, rarely opened their hearts to others or discussed their inner selves. Thus, what their Sources of Consciousness looked like remained unknown. But one thing had to be said: where they were concerned, it was best to curb our curiosity and refrain from exploring.

Diago sat down, placed his hand on Khanifa's head, and stroked gently. He steadied his breathing as best he could, trying to still his consciousness and direct it into the deepest part of his mind. He had never attempted anything like this before, but fortunately, he soon entered a meditative state. Diago felt as though he had fallen into a black hole. His entire consciousness stretched out, falling endlessly without ever reaching the bottom. Several minutes, or perhaps several dozen minutes later-Diago felt he had lost all sense of time-he arrived at his Source of Consciousness. This was his first visit, but the sight before him immediately overwhelmed him. To be honest, ever since coming to Azeroth, Diago felt he had become a country bumpkin with such a meager vocabulary that he could say nothing beyond exclamations like "wow" and "oh." This world had truly stunned him far too many times.

It was a wilderness that, at first glance, somewhat resembled the African savanna of his previous life. It consisted of rolling low hills and broad, luxuriant grasslands. The hills were not bare, but covered with dense woods, mostly tall trees such as oaks, acacias, and beeches, with low shrubs like sand willows and junipers scattered among them.

At the foot of the forest lay a blue lake. Several rivers wound across the grasslands, watering the entire region before finally flowing into the lake.

Grassland occupied most of this wilderness. Knee-high pasture grass covered the earth like a carpet, and green was the dominant color here. When the breeze blew, the sea of grass rolled and surged like waves, refreshing the mind and lifting the spirits.

This was no lifeless place. On the contrary, it teemed with vitality. Zebras, gazelles, Hawkstriders, giraffes, and lions ran, rested, hunted, and bred across the plains. There was also no shortage of beasts unique to Azeroth, such as Wind Serpents, Raptors, and Thunder Lizards. Diago even saw a procession of several Kodos passing not far in front of him, their footsteps shaking the earth.

Diago was almost completely captivated by this wilderness. He gazed greedily at it, lost in its beauty and reluctant to move. But he soon realized he had something more important to do here. He scanned his surroundings, searching with some urgency.

Several minutes later, he saw-or, more precisely, sensed-with surprise a faint yet unbreakable soul bond in the sky above the wilderness. Without hesitation, he leaped up and followed the connection, casting his consciousness toward the soul at its other end.

It was a truly marvelous sensation. He felt as though his consciousness were a drop of oil traveling along a narrow passage from one end of a glass hourglass to the other, though the hourglass's neck seemed rather long. Several seconds later, he arrived in another sea of consciousness. This one was much simpler: only a small patch of grassland, densely packed with countless herbivores such as zebras, gazelles, and groundhogs. It had to be said that Khanifa's desires really were simple.

It felt a little strange, as though two souls existed in Khanifa's body at once-which was, in fact, exactly the case. At this moment, however, the big cat had willingly relinquished control of the body, curling up that consciousness in the deepest part of the Source of Consciousness.

After several difficult attempts, Diago felt his consciousness withdraw from the depths of the Source of Consciousness. When he returned to the real world, he was startled to find his viewpoint much lower, but soon realized he was inside the big cat's body.

Diago turned his head stiffly from side to side and looked around. The Night Elf was in Stealth, so he could not see him, but he could see his own body sitting cross-legged in the corner, its eyes wide open, dull and utterly unfocused. It looked like someone in a vegetative state. The sight was genuinely frightening, and Diago got a shock.

That shock alone broke his concentration on the spell. Diago's vision went black, and he lost consciousness completely. When he could see again, he discovered that his consciousness had returned to his own body.

Diago felt exhausted-not physically, but mentally. He was dizzy and groggy, as though he had not fully woken up, but he gritted his teeth, cast the spell again, and once more projected his consciousness into Diago's body. Perhaps because practice made perfect, this attempt took far less time than the first.

He collected himself and tried hard to adjust to this body. But it was difficult. Going from a two-legged creature to a four-legged one improved his balance, but coordination was not so easy to master.

Diago tried walking on four legs, but this was clearly a highly technical task. It took him a long time to adjust before he could barely manage to move, and even then, he moved both legs on the same side together-first the left foreleg and hind leg, then the right foreleg and hind leg. It was clumsy, but at least he could move, right?

With walking sorted out, a more serious problem remained: he had absolutely no idea how to make this body enter Stealth.

"Stealth!" he commanded the body, but nothing happened. Several seconds later, he lowered his head and discovered he could still see the body's furry legs.

"Oh, shit!" he cursed in frustration, then called inwardly, "Khanifa, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Diago," a somewhat childish voice said in his mind. It sounded like a mischievous five- or six-year-old boy. "I heard you swearing, too."

"All right, I shouldn't have sworn." Diago rolled his eyes helplessly. "You take over from here. This is your home turf. I'll just tell you what to do."

Khanifa released that consciousness, and Diago immediately felt himself lose control of the body. He watched with some curiosity as Khanifa took control, rather like sitting in the passenger seat of a car, though it was a little crowded.

The big cat handled the body far more deftly than he did. Several seconds later, Diago discovered he could no longer see those two pairs of furry paws. It was amazing, because he could still observe the outside world through the Yellow Leopard's eyes.

"Well done, Khanifa," Diago praised inwardly. He thought for a moment, then directed the big cat, "Let's leave this room and head to the other end of the passage."

The big cat crept toward the interrogation hall on the other side of the passage, but for Khanifa, the journey was rather noisy. Like any veteran driver sitting in the passenger seat, Diago simply could not keep his mouth shut.

"Hey, hey, steer clear of that Dwarf!"

"Slow down! Slow down! Khanifa, damn it, you're going to hit that crate!"

"..."

"Hey, shut up, Diago," the big cat finally said in displeasure, patience exhausted. "Do you know how to control a Yellow Leopard's body better than the leopard does?"

"I was just..."

"You're in my body now. You need to learn to see the world from a leopard's perspective!" Khanifa interrupted bluntly.

"All right, as you wish," Diago answered dejectedly. But less than three minutes later, he could not resist giving instructions again.

"Hey, Khanifa, don't jump, don't jump! That crate's too high. You won't make it... Oh, all right, you made it."

"Khanifa, you need to walk this way..."

"..."

The big cat fought the urge to roll those eyes and nimbly wove between passing Dark Iron Dwarves and assorted clutter, finally reaching the interrogation hall. Fortunately, Khanifa and Diago were communicating mentally; otherwise, they would already have woken everyone in Shadowforge City.

It was a rather sinister hall. Even though all of Shadowforge City was unbearably hot, this place still seemed dark and cold. Blazing torches lined the walls, and braziers burned fiercely below the stone platform, yet they still could not dispel the darkness. Human shadows fell across the surrounding walls, swaying with the flickering flames, clawing and writhing like a realm of ghosts.

The passage they had come through opened onto a stone platform four or five paces square, more than two meters above the hall's floor. In the center of the hall stood a sturdy wooden bed fitted with wooden rods, projecting arms, and a winch. Though polished to a glossy shine, it still bore bloodstains that could not be wiped away, a sight that made one's scalp crawl. A wooden rack beside the torture bed held all sorts of bizarre instruments, many of whose purposes were impossible to discern-at least, Diago could not tell what these peculiar tools were used for.

Several coffins stood below the steps, evidently prepared for prisoners whose usefulness had been exhausted. Some already had their lids nailed shut, and several Dark Iron Dwarves were carrying them out. Diago did not know where they were being taken, but disposing of bodies and destroying evidence was never difficult in Shadowforge City. The river of lava beneath the city could conceal every crime without leaving even a scrap behind.

If we fail to rescue Windsor, we'll probably get to try every one of these torture instruments, Diago thought pessimistically. He had little faith in this rescue mission, but he had come anyway.

"That's quite likely," Khanifa's consciousness suddenly cut in mockingly. The big cat found it difficult to understand why these two adventurers were courting death.

"That would be Masley and me. As for you, you'll be skinned alive. That glossy hide of yours is worth a fortune among the Dark Iron nobles," Diago said viciously, somewhat angered by his embarrassment. Among master skinners, there was a saying that only a hide stripped from a beast while it was still alive could perfectly preserve its living beauty.

Diago felt Khanifa shudder, to his satisfaction. The big cat fell silent for several seconds.

"I'll slit my own throat before I'm taken alive. I promise," Khanifa told Diago mentally, with such firmness that Diago could almost feel that resolve. "If you and Masley don't want to try these strange things, I'd be very happy to help you, too."

Well, this time it was Diago's turn to be speechless.

Today seemed to be the prisoners' lucky day, because no one was strapped to that wooden bed-or perhaps the torturers had already finished their work for the day. Some Dwarves were organizing the equipment, while others cleared debris from the floor. Diago distinctly saw several severed limbs mixed in.

Amid the bustling crowd, Diago spotted the human woman at once-Interrogator Gerstahn. She stood a few paces in front of the stone platform. She was not tall, barely of average height among humans, but amid the surrounding Dark Iron Dwarves, she stood head and shoulders above them and was impossible to miss.

By the standards of either Earth or Azeroth, this woman was not beautiful. In fact, she had no need to be, since most of those she saw all day were vicious murderers or enemies of the Dark Iron. But her interrogation skills were first-rate, and beneath her pale purple robe lurked the madness within her heart. To be honest, a woman gone mad was truly terrifying, and few could withstand her torment. On her belt, Diago saw the weapon she habitually used, one renowned among players: Lies, a dagger forged from dark iron and enchanted with flame. Rumor had it that a tiny line was engraved on the blade: You will tell the truth sooner or later.

Khanifa crept down the stone steps on the right side of the platform, but just then, something unexpected happened. The interrogator suddenly turned and walked toward the steps.

Khanifa froze. The staircase was so narrow that only one person could pass at a time. There was not even time to turn back and retreat to the platform. After all, a Yellow Leopard moved far more slowly in Stealth than at normal speed.

"Jump onto the ledge beside the steps!" Diago shouted wildly in their shared consciousness.

This time, Khanifa obeyed. In fact, there was no time to think; the big cat simply reacted instinctively. With an agile leap, Khanifa landed on the ledge beside the steps, then slid down it. Fortunately, cats had thick pads beneath their paws, and the maneuver made no sound at all.

Completely unaware that she had brushed past an intruder, the interrogator climbed the steps, apparently intending to check on the interrogation's progress in the little room beyond the passage. Diago's heart rose into his throat. Masley and his own body were still over there.

Fortunately, however, Gerstahn stopped on the platform. She sat in a broad-backed chair, sinking deeply into it, and looked somewhat tired. Indeed, as a human, she could hardly have felt comfortable in this environment.

Diago breathed a sigh of relief, but suddenly realized that the key was not hanging from this woman's belt! He had always assumed she carried it with her, because in his previous life, many people had taken it straight from her corpse.

"Khanifa, make a circuit of the hall. We're looking for a silvery-white prison cell key. We need it to open the door to Marshal Windsor's cell," Diago ordered helplessly. Finding it in such a large hall would not be easy.

"I can feel how nervous you are, Diago," Khanifa said unhurriedly, pacing elegantly along the hall's walls in search of it.

"How could I not be nervous? Beast's Eye is about to run out!" Diago roared mentally. This hunter spell had a time limit, generally no more than ten minutes. If it lasted too long, it would cause permanent damage to both Diago's and Khanifa's souls that would be difficult to recover from.

In fact, Diago already felt exhausted. His mind was muddled and his head felt ready to split, much as if he had gone several days and nights without sleep. Still, he struggled to hold on, at least until they found the key.

"Can't hold on anymore? Then head back first," Khanifa said teasingly. Before Diago could object, his consciousness was expelled from the big cat's body.

"You can't..." Diago's soul shouted wildly, but it was too late. His vision went black, and he lost consciousness. When he woke again, he found himself back in his own body.

"That damned stupid cat!" he snarled under his breath through gritted teeth. He had already decided that when the big cat returned, he would teach Khanifa a lesson that would not be forgotten.

"What happened? Were you spotted?" Masley's voice came from the shadows beside him.

"No, the spell's duration ran out," Diago said dejectedly. To be honest, he did not believe Khanifa could find the key alone-the big cat had never seen the thing before. "I'm afraid we're in for a humiliating failure, Masley."

"If I were you, I wouldn't think that way," Masley said quietly, his words sounding meaningful. "You need to trust the companions beside you. Trust that they can do just as well as you."

"Are you talking about Khanifa, or yourself?" Diago keenly sensed that the elf meant something more, but did not dwell on it. Something else worried him now. "Right now, I'm only worried whether that stupid cat can make it back alive."

"I shouldn't have used that spell." Diago rubbed his face, his expression full of regret and self-reproach. "Then I wouldn't have left that stupid cat there alone."

For a moment, Masley did not know what to say either.

But just then, the form of a Yellow Leopard gradually appeared beside them. Under their dumbfounded stares, Khanifa gave the master a reproachful look, wearing a distinctly human expression that said, "Oh, wow, I hear someone's been talking about me behind my back." The big cat shook that head ostentatiously, letting them get a clearer look at the iron ring hanging from those metal teeth. On that ring hung the prison cell key they had longed to obtain!

The silvery-white key looked thoroughly elven in style, nothing like Dwarven craftsmanship. Its curved shape had flowing lines, and its surface was covered in intricate magical runes.

This made Diago inwardly grateful that he had not rashly tried to force the cell door open, because the lock this key belonged to was clearly rigged with a magical trap. The Dark Iron Dwarves had realized they had caught a big fish.

"Let's get out of here!" Diago snatched up the key and gave the order in a low voice. He did not want to spend another minute in this damned place.