Crossing the boundary of time and space, Noah stepped onto a strange planet.
Draenor had once been beautiful-at least, that was what the stories claimed. Noah didn't fully trust hearsay.
To his eyes, the present Draenor was nothing but a disaster.
Perhaps because it hadn't undergone any real reconstruction yet, the entire world felt broken beyond repair.
Endless dunes stretched to the horizon. Withered branches littered the land. Flames burned in the sky itself, making the world look like a dead zone where life had long since given up.
"This place is miserable," Noah sighed.
As he sensed the energies drifting through the air, his brow furrowed.
"Fel? No... it's worse than that. Much worse."
"Evil power permeates the environment," the System confirmed.
"The degree of desolation is abnormally high."
Noah could feel it too.
Even the soil beneath his feet felt rotten.
Expecting vegetation to grow here was wishful thinking.
Everything was lifeless.
Shaking his head, Noah understood why the Orcs had invaded Azeroth.
This world was finished.
To survive, they had no choice but to leave.
Of course, there was also the issue of manipulation.
The Orcs had been led by the nose.
Noah vaguely recalled that the invasion was tied to the Burning Legion.
And the one responsible for turning Draenor into this state was likely Kil'jaeden.
Or was it?
Noah rubbed his chin.
He wasn't entirely sure, and he didn't dwell on it.
He was already here.
As long as he didn't actively seek death, he should be fine.
From what he remembered, Kil'jaeden had left after using the Orcs, only reappearing later when Ner'zhul irritated him enough to be turned into the Lich King.
"I wonder if he'll show up early because I messed things up in Azeroth."
Noah felt a bit uneasy, then let it go.
"If it happens, it happens. I'm not even in Azeroth anymore. Hopefully his attention stays there."
With that thought, Noah didn't linger.
Pale-golden light rippled around him.
In the next instant, he shot into the sky.
The System could sense the Naaru's general location, but not its exact position.
That meant Noah had to search manually.
Of course, "manually" was relative.
Few could fly like this.
The farther Noah traveled, the more clearly he realized just how bad things were.
He had been flying for half a day.
Not a single living creature.
His speed wasn't slow, yet even after an enormous distance, there was nothing.
No people.
No beasts.
Only bones.
Some rotting. Some bleached white.
And nothing else.
"This is pathetic," Noah thought.
Bones alone would've been one thing.
But there weren't even scavengers.
No crows. No vultures.
Not even flies.
Flies were notoriously hard to wipe out.
Their absence here felt unnatural.
Honestly, if it weren't for the Naaru, Noah would've turned back immediately.
The atmosphere was oppressive.
Even the massive sun overhead brought no warmth.
Hot. Dry. Lifeless. Silent.
That was Draenor.
It made Noah respect the Orcs and Draenei who still survived here.
Enduring this kind of world required terrifying willpower.
"Have you overlooked something?" the System suddenly asked.
"Can't you feel that the surrounding aura has slightly improved?"
"Improved?" Noah slowed midair.
To him, everything still looked the same.
A wasteland.
"I really don't feel it. It looks just as dead as everywhere else."
"Your perception is insufficient. We will need to address that," the System replied calmly.
"Though the environment appears unchanged, there is faint life force nearby. Orcs and Draenei can barely survive here. This is not the core region yet-the central area retains more vitality."
"Is that so?" Noah nodded.
Whether he felt it or not didn't matter.
"How far are we? How long until we reach it?"
Instead of answering, the System adjusted his perception.
Soon, Noah noticed something green.
Sparse vegetation.
Thin. Weak. As if it would wither at any moment.
But it was life.
Following that direction, Noah finally sensed the life force the System had mentioned.
He wasn't unfamiliar with it.
He'd handled life-draining magic before.
"Hm."
Noah accelerated.
Before long, he noticed a group of Orcs engaged in combat-with what looked like... Orcs?
That made him pause.
Another clan conflict?
But something felt off.
Among the group that resembled Orcs, many had distinct Draenei features.
"What is this mess?"
Noah tilted his head.
He wasn't up to date on whatever new lore had developed.
After a brief thought, he decided to investigate.
Anyone still active here would know the situation ahead.
Distances. Names. Threats.
That information was useful.
Having decided, pale-golden light spread from Noah.
Terrifying magic instantly enveloped both sides of the conflict.
He didn't single out targets.
He didn't know these clans.
To him, they were all strangers.
If anything, the Draenei-looking group seemed worse off.
Space twisted violently.
The battlefield warped.
Both sides froze as their surroundings changed beyond recognition.
They had no choice but to stop fighting.
Moments later, they noticed a figure descending from the sky, bathed in pale-golden light.
They couldn't tell what kind of creature he was.
Only that his presence alone made it hard to breathe.
Noah slowly descended.
Seeing both races staring at him, he paused, then established a mental link with the Draenei-like group.
He had considered the Orcs.
But many were green-skinned.
That reminded him of Gul'dan.
And for matters involving the Light, the Draenei were the obvious choice.
"Tell me your name," Noah said coldly after establishing the link.
"And your race."
He needed to be sure.
"Akama, my lord," the exhausted figure replied.
"Akama... once of the Draenei."
Noah nodded.
He could sense a faint evil aura on Akama.
Passive contamination.
More importantly, Noah sensed traces of the Holy Light.
Weak. Fragmented.
And completely gone now.
The Light no longer protected him.
That puzzled Noah.
If the Light could act on the dead, how could a believer lose it?
Still, it wasn't his concern.
He wouldn't interfere.
Noah had no intention of relying on faith to obtain the Light.
A mage trusted knowledge.
And himself.
Nothing else.
That was why he was here-to forcibly take a glowing, golden puzzle piece.
"It seems you once held a high position," Noah thought.
But he kept speaking.
"Do the Draenei have a... cult? No. A church?"
"A church that follows the Light?"
"I was once an Exarch," Akama said bitterly.
"But I am no longer. I am a Lost One. A Broken."
That surprised Noah.
An Exarch?
So that was what these altered Draenei were called.
Broken.
He sighed and dropped any trace of condescension.
Turning his attention to the Orcs, Noah asked, "What clan are they?"
"Shadowmoon Orcs, my lord," Akama answered, breathing heavily.
"Shadowmoon Clan?" Noah narrowed his eyes.
"Who is their chieftain?"
"It should be..." Akama hesitated.
"Ner'zhul."