A few days later, in the royal palace of Lordaeron.
Arthas, who had just finished handling state affairs, closed the documents in his hand when he noticed the brilliance of a teleportation spell lighting up in his study.
Moments later, a slender and familiar figure appeared before Arthas.
Who else could it be but Jaina?
However, this 'Daughter of the Sea,' who was usually so dignified and elegant, now had her golden hair plastered to her sweat-dampened forehead.
Though her expression remained calm, a hint of panic was clearly hidden beneath it.
When she saw Arthas, her heart relaxed, but her legs uncontrollably gave way, and her body fell forward.
"Jaina? Are you alright? What happened?"
Arthas was somewhat surprised.
He quickly stepped forward to support her and asked, because given Jaina's nature, she would usually inform him in advance if she were coming to see him.
Her hurried use of a teleportation spell to directly enter the Lordaeron Royal Palace could only mean that something extremely urgent had occurred.
"I... I'm fine, but... Varian, Varian is missing!"
This news struck like a bolt from the blue.
Even Arthas looked shocked.
"Missing? What happened? Why have I not heard any news like this at all?"
Lordaeron's intelligence agencies were spread throughout Azeroth, and with the eyes of the Scourge added to that, it could be said that Arthas would certainly get any news firsthand.
"Varian had a plan to visit Theramore.
He wanted to further deepen the ties between the Stormwind Kingdom and its various allies in Kalimdor.
You should know about this," Jaina began to explain the cause of the incident.
"Yes, Varian discussed this with me before.
Ever since meeting with Grand Marshal Lothar, he believed he should personally get to know other races, as it would be more conducive to the future development of the Alliance," Arthas nodded.
After helping Jaina sit down on a nearby sofa, he poured her a glass of water.
"By my reckoning, he should have arrived in Theramore this morning."
"But the ship he was on is missing.
It's as if it vanished into thin air, disappearing without a trace!" Jaina held the water glass with both hands, weariness etched on her face.
"The most unbelievable thing is that the other ships in the fleet didn't notice anything until they docked in Theramore's port and discovered that their King's ship was gone.
So I immediately contacted Archmage Aegwynn, but we searched hundreds of nautical miles around and found nothing unusual."
After saying these words, Jaina's arms trembled slightly, indicating that the large-scale magical search had consumed much of her stamina.
Noticing this, Arthas pondered for a moment, then placed his hand on Jaina's shoulder, using the Holy Light to alleviate her fatigue.
Feeling Arthas's power nourishing her weary body and spirit, Jaina sat up a little straighter and sighed in relief.
"Archmage Aegwynn is still searching.
She told me to come to you first to see if there's any way to find Varian."
"Wait a moment."
Arthas was silent for a few seconds, but in the end, he just shook his head.
"I haven't seen any useful information either."
He had just connected his soul will to all the undead of the Scourge, but the results of the scan were not unexpected; even all of the Scourge's eyes had not detected any abnormalities.
Everything was perfectly calm, just like any other day.
However, this was precisely the most bizarre and abnormal point, and as far as Arthas knew, there were only certain entities in this world capable of making Stormwind's fleet vanish into thin air near Theramore.
"Old Gods."
Realizing that Jaina had mostly recovered, Arthas withdrew the healing of the Holy Light and rubbed his chin.
"Aside from them, I can't think of anyone else who would do this, or who could do this."
Making an entire fleet unaware of the disappearance of their flagship, even Dragons or Titan Guardians couldn't do it.
It should be known that Varian was not traveling privately this time; Stormwind had equipped a full diplomatic fleet, and since their King was also in the fleet, there were several Archmages among the accompanying guards.
Their abilities were enough to protect the flagship and allow it to leave even under the wrath of a Dragon.
In other words, the envoy fleet might have been completely wiped out, but it was impossible for them to lose a flagship without realizing it.
The only ones capable of this were the Old Gods hidden beneath the waves.
Blinding and confusing the entire fleet in an instant, then seizing the flagship of the fleet, leaving the other crew members unaware of its disappearance until they reached port—this act was truly characteristic of the Old Gods.
"Are you saying, the only remaining Ancient God, N'Zoth?" Jaina had been frantically catching up on these forbidden knowledge in recent years and now had a general understanding of the Old Gods' existence.
"Hmm, notify the other members of the Alliance; the plan may need to be implemented sooner."
As Arthas spoke, his gaze fell upon a parchment scroll on his desk—it was a detailed nautical chart of a lost "Atlantis" that the scribe had just given him.
Next to this chart were several similar, equally old scrolls bearing royal wax seals, all appearing to be ancient artifacts recently unearthed from somewhere.
-----------------
A few days later, the news of Varian's disappearance inevitably spread throughout the Alliance.
Although they had tried their best to mitigate the negative impact this news would bring, it still caused quite a stir within the Alliance, especially in the Stormwind Kingdom.
Fortunately, Bolvar's prestige in Stormwind was high enough that he quickly suppressed the widespread unrest and dispatched troops to clear out many cult organizations hidden within the kingdom.
Evidence collected from those cult strongholds indicated that the leakage of this disappearance information, which affected the entire Alliance, came from these cultists.
The Grand Duke was furious, not only because of the disappearance of his beloved friend and King, Varian, but also because these cultists had secretly committed unforgivable sins within the kingdom.
They sacrificed living people to so-called evil gods, and most of these "sacrifices" were children they had abducted from various places using different methods.
After witnessing the tragic fate of those children after the cultists' rituals, Bolvar's thunderous wrath immediately swept across the entire kingdom.
After a major purge, the dark forces within the Stormwind Kingdom gradually disappeared.
A few cultist leaders were captured alive and publicly sentenced in Stormwind.
While the death of these evil individuals brought cheers from the people of the Stormwind Kingdom, the King's disappearance inevitably caused various impacts.
Upon the throne of Stormwind Keep, it was no longer the valiant Varian who stood there, but the young Anduin.
Although this Prince had been known throughout the kingdom for his benevolence and kindness since childhood, his age was clearly not enough to support the normal functioning of the kingdom.
Queen Tiffin ultimately decided to appoint Bolvar as the Regent of the Stormwind Kingdom, temporarily overseeing all matters, big and small, until Varian's return.
With the help of allies and the implementation of several temporary policies, the Stormwind Kingdom finally regained its calm.
After rectifying internal affairs, all Alliance members began to focus their attention on another matter—finding Varian's whereabouts.
.....
Inside the war council chamber of Stormwind Keep, Bolvar's face was frosty—he had barely smiled since Varian's disappearance, and the recent widespread suppression and purges had only heightened the Grand Duke of Stormwind's formidable reputation.
But judging by the expressions of the nobles, councilors, and Bolvar himself, their meeting was anything but "smooth."
"This is the last time I will repeat myself: I will spare no effort to find Varian's whereabouts," Bolvar's iron fist slammed down on the solid wood round table, making the heavy table tremble slightly, causing the ambassadors to sense the suppressed rage within Bolvar. "If you don't wish to help, I ask nothing of you, but if I discover anyone dares to obstruct this matter, the execution block for heretics will be that fool's only destination!"
After ushering out a group of largely useless individuals from Stormwind Keep, Bolvar's expression grew even more solemn. He vaguely felt that these nobles and councilors were hiding something from him, even if it wasn't the truth related to Varian's disappearance, they might be involved in other unsavory dealings.
This made Bolvar even more furious, because when he purged those heretics, he discovered that many powerful figures had more or less colluded with them, either by purchasing strange magical items, potions, and scrolls from those cult organizations, or by outright funding their various activities. As a result, the execution block in Stormwind had recently been splattered with the blood of many high-ranking officials and nobles.
However, doing these things offered no help whatsoever in finding Varian's whereabouts. Bolvar could only prioritize handling matters within the kingdom to minimize the impact of their king's absence.
"Uncle Bolvar."
Just as Bolvar was deep in thought, a slightly tender voice reached him, causing him to look up—Anduin, dressed in splendid formal attire and holding the royal scepter symbolizing Stormwind's highest authority, stood not far away.
Bolvar approached the young prince, his earlier fury replaced by a gentle demeanor, and asked, "What is it, Anduin?"
"About my father… is there any new news?" Hope flickered in Anduin's eyes, wishing to receive some good news from Bolvar.
Anduin's question made Bolvar's words catch in his throat. After a few seconds of silence, he finally let out a long sigh, "No… not yet, Anduin, but I have already sent Shaw to investigate this matter. I believe you will see your father very soon."
"…I understand."
Although he had anticipated Bolvar's reply, Anduin couldn't help but show his disappointment—not disappointment in Bolvar, but simply the disappointment that comes when hope is dashed.
Seeing Anduin's crestfallen expression, Bolvar wanted to offer comfort, but after racking his brains for a long time, he couldn't think of any suitable words to console the prince. In the end, he remained standing stiffly beside him, unsure whether to leave or stay.
It was Anduin who first noticed that his lapse had troubled Bolvar. "I'm sorry, Uncle Bolvar, I'm not blaming you. I just miss my father too much… I should leave now, Uncle Bolvar."
Watching Anduin depart, Bolvar self-reproachfully patted his forehead, then slumped back into a chair in the council chamber, feeling somewhat deflated. Anduin's complete lack of blame only made him feel more that he had let down the still-young prince.
Unfortunately, there had been no reports regarding Varian's whereabouts yet. Even with Shaw and SI:7 almost entirely deployed, given the vastness of Azeroth, it would be at least a week before any useful information could be obtained.
Although Bolvar found it difficult to accept this outcome, to leave Varian's fate uncertain for such a long time, this was indeed the limit of what Shaw and his team could achieve.
At this point, the only thing to hope for was a miracle, but didn't that make one feel even more despair?
-----------------
Late at night, Anduin sat alone on a swing in the Keep's garden. His hands gripped the ropes on either side of the swing, but no one was there to push him high from behind, and the laughter of father and son was gone.
The separation came so swiftly that no one had time to react; the King of Stormwind, his father, had vanished over the vast sea, without a trace.
Upon hearing the news of his father's disappearance, Anduin felt as if struck by lightning, but thankfully Queen Tiffin was there. When he felt his mother suppressing her inner unease to comfort him, Anduin remembered his father's teaching—to always be a strong person, no matter what.
So, in this silent, deserted garden late at night, Anduin began to "help" his father in his own way. He began to pray, praying to the Holy Light, just as his "godfather" Arthas had once taught him—to feel the deep connection between the Holy Light and himself, for it would answer him.
Anduin had tried many times before, but each time the Holy Light only gave him a faint, vague revelation before being immediately obscured by darkness. But stubborn, he tried again and again, and astonishingly, with each heartfelt prayer and listening, Anduin heard more sounds and saw more images, until today, when his worry and love for his father condensed within him, a miracle finally appeared.
A large ship—the flagship of the Stormwind diplomatic fleet, the ship that carried his father.
Then, Anduin's vision was enveloped by a vast white mist. From a peculiar perspective, he saw the fleet sailing on a sea shrouded in white mist.
Then he heard a few indistinct whispers, so he strained harder to listen to the words, and soon he recognized one of them as his father's voice.
"What happened? What's with this sudden fog?" Varian spoke quickly, and it was clear he had already realized the strangeness of this white mist.
"Not sure, Your Majesty. The waters near Theramore shouldn't have this kind of weather. Our route has been confirmed many times; such heavy fog has never appeared on our route," the captain's voice sounded very nervous. After all, with such low visibility, even without the danger of sea monsters, veering off course and running aground or hitting rocks would be absolutely terrifying.
"Contact the fleet behind us, tighten formation, slow down, and be vigilant for any potential dangers."
Varian immediately ordered the messenger beside him. This sudden white mist was clearly strange, and they had to be careful.
However, very soon, the messenger, who was supposed to contact the other ships, quickly returned to Varian's side and whispered something in his ear, causing Varian's expression to immediately darken. His wolf-like, hawk-like eyes stared intently at the white mist ahead, as if trying to pierce through it.
Anduin, concentrating intently, also heard the messenger's low murmur, "The communication crystal for contact has failed, and the observers can't see the masts of the other ships. It seems we've been isolated in this dense fog."
After taking a deep breath, Varian issued his final command, "Adjust the mast and sails. Do not deviate from the course."
The sounds and images abruptly ceased there, but the revelation Anduin received did not disappear. His perspective rapidly rose and zoomed out, as if looking down from the sky, and he saw what lay beyond the great mist—
A boundless continent he had never seen in any geography textbook!
Just as Anduin was shocked by everything he saw, a long and deep bell chime pierced through the clouds and mountains, instantly pulling Anduin out of the revelation. After losing that profound feeling, he immediately stood up from the swing.
The garden was still filled with fragrance, moonlight spilled down, and the gentle breeze and swaying swing made Anduin realize again that he had returned to reality.
After regaining his senses, Anduin immediately ran out of the garden and headed towards his mother's bedchamber.
More than ten minutes later, Queen Tiffin, who had just listened to Anduin's narration, was also somewhat incredulous, "You said you received a revelation from the Holy Light and saw traces of your father? You... you don't have a fever, do you, Anduin?"
The Queen placed her hand on Anduin's forehead, seemingly wanting to confirm whether her son was ill or had hallucinations due to excessive emotional fluctuations.
But Anduin still nodded affirmatively, "Mother, I am very clear-headed. That was indeed the revelation the Holy Light wanted to give me."
Her son's determination made Queen Tiffin hesitate. She scrutinized the resolute expression on Anduin's still-tender face. After a moment, the wise Queen made a decision, "Wait for me for a moment."
Queen Tiffin rummaged through the cabinet of her luxurious dressing mirror for a while and soon took out a locked small box. Looking at the exquisite carvings and inscriptions on the box, it was clearly not an ordinary wooden box.
Noticing the doubt in Anduin's eyes, Tiffin smiled and opened the wooden box. Inside, a clear crystal ball lay on high-grade silk. "This was a gift Jaina gave me back then. With this, I can contact her anytime. Her original intention was for me to carry it with me, but I rarely leave the Royal Palace and Stormwind, so I simply kept it in my bedroom."
When the energy stored in the crystal ball was activated, Jaina's image quickly appeared in the room.
Jaina seemed a little puzzled, "Tiffin, what's wrong? I sensed the call from the crystal ball I gave you."
"Anduin... he saw some images. I want to ask for your help to interpret them," Tiffin stated her request. Although Anduin said he clearly heard his father and the crew's conversation, he had no idea what that continent seen in the revelation was.
Upon hearing this, Jaina turned to look at Anduin. She first observed the Prince for a moment, then realized, "So that's it. I also felt the imprint of Holy Light energy left on him. As long as Anduin is willing, I should be able to use magic to recreate the scene Anduin saw."
"I am willing, Jaina!"
Before Jaina could finish speaking, Anduin eagerly agreed to the request. Jaina, however, just chuckled softly and waved her hand, signaling Anduin, "Don't be impatient, Anduin. Although I can recreate the images from memory, regarding the topic of the Holy Light... I think we should ask Arthas. He might be able to give us more answers."
-----------------
In a private study within Stormwind Keep, Bolvar had his men clear out all extraneous personnel and servants, leaving only a few personal guards at the door to prevent any disturbances.
Arthas stood before Anduin, holding his hand, and stated with certainty, "It is indeed a revelation from the Holy Light, without interference or misleading from any other power."
"So, the images Anduin saw are very likely real?" Jaina's words also revealed a hint of excitement. She hadn't expected the most crucial clue to come to them so "dramatically."
"At least it roughly matches Varian's whereabouts," Arthas said, then turned to Anduin, "Next, Jaina will use magic to recreate the memories in your mind. Relax, this spell will not harm you in any way."
Anduin was very cooperative. To find his father, he was willing to make any sacrifice, let alone such a small matter?
Bolvar and Tiffin, however, were a bit nervous. The Regent Grand Duke quietly confirmed with Arthas, "Are you sure this magic is harmless? I heard that such mind-probing spells are only used on prisoners."
Jaina explained helplessly to Bolvar, who was somewhat of a "magic-illiterate," "Those are spells specifically for interrogation, invented by the Warden of Dalaran to deal with dangerous prisoners who refuse to speak. How could I use such a spell on Anduin? Move aside a bit, Bolvar, don't interfere with the spell's progress, or the image won't be clear."
With Jaina's assurance, Bolvar and Tiffin were somewhat relieved. Under Jaina's guidance, the images from Anduin's memory quickly reappeared. Jaina also swiftly transmitted the images using Arcane magic so that everyone could see them.
Soon, this not-so-long sequence of images ended, and Anduin let out a sigh of relief. Successfully providing useful information greatly eased his mind.
"The continent surrounded by mist..." Arthas stroked his chin, pondering for a moment, "This continent in the images should indeed be Pandaria. However, I still don't understand why this Blackhand would lead Varian there."
The Alliance had sent countless ships but still hadn't found this mysterious continent, yet Varian, whose original intention was not to go there, stumbled into Pandaria's territorial waters. Even they themselves were unaware of this, and the other ships in the fleet were even more in the dark. This whole matter felt very strange no matter how you looked at it.
"Regardless, since Anduin has found Varian's whereabouts, even if it means deploying the entire Stormwind fleet, we must find Pandaria as soon as possible." Bolvar temporarily didn't want to consider Blackhand's intentions. In his opinion, ensuring Varian's safety was the most important thing.
"Kul Tiras and Theramore will also help. As long as this continent is indeed at the southern end of the Endless Sea, we will eventually discover its existence," Jaina also offered her assistance.
"Hmm, there's no time to lose. Even if we don't know what the enemy is planning, finding Varian is undoubtedly the most important thing," Arthas had no other objections, but he added an extra remark, "Once you find that continent, be very careful. Try to avoid conflict with the local natives. Pandaria is unlike any land we live on. It can sense any malice and darkness, and these things will awaken the monsters sealed on that land."
Just as the conversation was about to end, a personal guard responsible for watch duty entered the room with an urgent secret letter. He handed the document, stamped with the SI:7 wax seal, to Bolvar and then quickly left.
Bolvar had absolute trust in Arthas and Jaina. He directly opened the secret letter, but the contents of the envelope caused the Grand Duke's face to show surprise.
A possibility inexplicably appeared in Arthas's mind, and then Bolvar's words confirmed it.
"Shaw's spy said... they saw a gladiator identical to Varian in an arena in Durotar."
The secret letter in their hands plunged everyone into silence. Bolvar clutched the paper, looking at Arthas. "This…"
Arthas didn't answer immediately either. He began to ponder all possible scenarios. It was Queen Tiffin who spoke first, "Perhaps SI:7 made a mistake?"
However, as she uttered this sentence, half-guess and half-self-comfort, Tiffin herself knew it was almost impossible. Regarding the King's whereabouts, no matter how foolish SI:7 agents were, they wouldn't easily present such unverified intelligence. Although the letter mostly used speculative words like "possibly" and "perhaps," they must have confirmed it multiple times at close range.
"I do trust SI:7," Arthas didn't question the intelligence agency's capability, "but to get to the bottom of this, I must personally go to the orcs' territory."
"Then let me go," Bolvar said, "If Varian's matter truly involves the Horde, then I will make them pay a heavy price."
"Calm down, Bolvar," Arthas didn't approve of Bolvar's self-recommendation. "Stormwind needs you. Let me handle this. I will give you an answer very soon."
Bolvar glanced at the young Anduin, and thought of the restless elements stirring within Stormwind. He hesitated to speak, for it was indeed as Arthas said: he likely couldn't risk crossing the ocean to Durotar. Putting aside everything else, Stormwind could no longer afford to lose another regent.
"The people of Stormwind will forever be grateful to you, my friend."
Bolvar and Arthas clasped each other's arms, their strong, powerful hands pressing down heavily. Both understood the significant meaning behind this task.
Leaving Stormwind Keep, Jaina still looked troubled. "I feel like we've stepped into a trap set by someone else… We just learned of Varian's possible whereabouts from Anduin, and immediately new, unverified news comes to interfere with us."
"That is precisely their terrifying aspect," Arthas observed the bustling crowds in Stormwind. The King's disappearance had left them uneasy and confused for a time, but now their lives were beginning to return to normal. "They are accustomed to using all sorts of tricks and provocations to sow discord between people, making allies distant and deepening the hatred between enemies."
"You mean… that Varian in Durotar is very likely a fake?" Jaina understood the implication in Arthas's words. Deepening hatred—wasn't that provoking conflict between humans and the current Horde?
"There's a high possibility, but what direction things will take, until we see that Varian, everything remains unknown." Arthas's gaze lifted, no longer looking at the crowds in Stormwind, but through the distant sky, seemingly falling directly upon a wild and restless land.
-----------------
"Thump… thump…"
Heavy wheels left deep ruts in the dry ground. A crude, swaying wagon slowly moved forward, pulled by a massive Kodo Beast.
...
However, the wagon wasn't transporting goods, but living slaves.
These slaves appeared listless under the scorching sun of Durotar. Their cracked lips and reddened skin indicated that their current masters were not "kind" to them. A few slaves lay slumped in the cage, their bodies covered in bloody wounds. These sufficiently profound lessons ensured that even the most defiant slaves remained obedient.
Slaves captured by the orcs generally met this fate, because in their eyes, most slaves were weaker than the weakest Peons. They didn't even have the value of replacing Peons in work. Only a small number of orcs would purchase some "frail" slaves.
And the ultimate fate of those unpurchased slaves was to be sent into the arena, serving as entertainment for the Horde members during their idle lives. Watching these slaves huddle together and struggle to survive in the arena was more enjoyable than whipping them to work.
Many orcs and Trolls enjoyed watching arena matches in their free time. Blood and roars were always common topics in Durotar. However, their Warchief, Thrall himself, wasn't fond of arena combat, but he also didn't oppose its establishment, because his people needed such "entertainment." And some more formal competitive matches, only for Horde champions, were an excellent way to select strong warriors.
Only today, at the arena where this caravan was headed, there were two very unusual "spectators."
"Garrosh, don't tell me this is the place you wanted to bring me."
The young black-haired Orc, with several traditional Orc braids and adorned with various bone ornaments, frowned, "Watching a bunch of weak monkeys and beasts fight each other—is this what you call having fun? It's a complete waste of time."
"Heh…" Garrosh seemed not to hear his companion, picked up a cup of wine, and poured it directly down his throat.
"You've been like this ever since you came back from Silithus. What exactly happened?"
"Go ask your father," Garrosh waved his hand, a hint of impatience flashing across his face, "I don't want to talk about it."
Seeing that he couldn't persuade the stubborn Garrosh, the black-haired Orc could only sigh and sit opposite Garrosh. "My father refuses to speak about anything that happened in Silithus. Perhaps, besides the surviving soldiers and the Warchief, no one knows what occurred in that battle."
"That means your father is protecting you, Draenosh." Garrosh scoffed, not mocking Draenosh, but himself.
Draenosh fell silent. As one of the few orcs in the current Horde who hadn't been corrupted by fel, he and Garrosh still retained the original brown skin of orcs. This also created a "rift" between them and the green-skinned orcs. This silent sense of difference could make even the most excellent warriors uneasy. Therefore, even though Garrosh's personality wasn't good, he and Garrosh could still get along.
But ever since returning from the battlefield of Silithus, Garrosh seemed like a changed man. The ferocity and recklessness inherited from his father had completely vanished, even excessively so. While he hadn't reverted to the dull Orc blockhead he was in Nagrand, his personality had certainly undergone a drastic change.
...
"Alright, we didn't come out today to talk about this. If you really want to know, you can pester old Saurfang. He might tell you what you want to know." Garrosh slammed his cup down heavily.
"So we're here today just to watch a boring arena match? We might as well go back to the warriors' training ground; the fights there are ten times more exciting than here."
"Of course not. I heard there's a peculiar 'slave' in this arena. They say he fights with more bloodlust and savagery than the fiercest dire wolf. I really want to see him…"
A strange light flickered in Garrosh's eyes. In the reflection of his pupils, he seemed to already see the "slave" confined in the sunless underground dungeon—a man whose eyes gleamed with a wolf-like, aggressive gaze.
Led by the slave master, Garrosh and Draenosh finally saw the true face of this 'slave gladiator'.
The light from the torch shone on the other party's face, and Draenosh's expression immediately twisted—how could he not recognize that face?
Draenosh grabbed Garrosh's shoulder and shouted in an unprecedentedly firm tone, "What the hell is going on?! Don't tell me this guy is—"
"Calm down, little Saurfang," Garrosh brushed away Draenosh's hand on his shoulder and replied indifferently, "This guy just looks like him, how could the real King of Stormwind be captured by slave hunters on an uninhabited beach?"
"It could also be a shipwreck—or some other trick!" Saurfang said through gritted teeth, "Even if he's not Varian, that face is enough to do too many things!"
As Saurfang's son, how could Draenosh not have seen Varian's portrait? The exact same appearance as the portrait made Draenosh feel an inexplicable palpitation, as if they had now fallen into some strange trap.
The orcs' quarrel seemed to disturb the prisoner who was resting with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes and said in a hoarse, deep voice, "You... know who I am?"
Garrosh and Draenosh both understood the common tongue. This sentence made Draenosh's unease grow even stronger, "You'd better not tell me in your next sentence that this guy has amnesia and has forgotten his identity."
"Hmph, you're really smart," Garrosh was slightly displeased. "As you can see, he's just a pathetic wretch who can't even remember his own name."
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!"
Draenosh said "damn it" three times in a row. He grabbed Garrosh's clothes with both hands and pulled him in front of him, "This guy is undoubtedly a dangerous factor, do you understand?!"
"Why are you so abnormal today?" Garrosh finally realized something was amiss. "It's just someone who looks similar..."
"Similar my ass!" Draenosh's last sentence was almost squeezed out through gritted teeth. "I just got news this morning that the King of Stormwind is missing!"
"What?"
Garrosh was also stunned after hearing Draenosh's words. He turned his head, looked past Draenosh, and at the man who looked exactly like "Varian" locked in the cell, saying half-believingly, "It can't be... such a coincidence, can it?"
"Idiot, don't you understand? There are no coincidences in this world. Even if this guy isn't Varian, by letting him participate in several gladiator matches so ostentatiously, the Alliance's spies have probably already filled this arena!"
Draenosh pointed at Garrosh's nose, "If the Warchief finds out about this, he will definitely be furious, because this is simply deliberately destroying the already fragile agreement between the Alliance and the Horde!"
"Enough!" Garrosh was tired of Draenosh's lecturing. "Then we should think of a way to deal with this unfortunate guy now, instead of arguing here!"
........
Just as the two were arguing endlessly about their attitude towards "Varian," the torches burning in the dungeon suddenly extinguished. Both orcs keenly noticed this and looked up at one side of the dungeon corridor in unison.
A strange cold sensation crawled up his spine. Draenosh involuntarily let go of Garrosh's hand and reached for the hand axe he carried with him. Only after gripping the wooden handle of the hand axe did he feel slightly calmer.
"This feeling..." Garrosh's face changed again and again. Watching the torches in front of him extinguish one after another, coupled with that familiar sinister feeling, bad memories once again flooded his mind.
When everything in front of them was swallowed by darkness, "Varian" in the cell suddenly fell backward onto the ground, unconscious, leaving Garrosh and Draenosh looking at each other.
But very quickly, a chilling sense of crisis made Draenosh and Garrosh stand upright. Without time to think, the two quickly bent down and rolled. And just as they rolled away from their original spot, a terrifying gust of wind swept across the position where their waists had been when they stood. The iron bars of the empty cage next to them couldn't even block it and were instantly torn in half.
"Hmm?"
A slightly surprised hum came from the darkness. Garrosh immediately drew the short-handled axe from his waist according to the direction of the sound, and swung it towards the source of the sound, like a ferocious dire wolf tearing.
The attacker was not at all surprised by Garrosh's reaction, but Garrosh was immediately shocked to find that his swung axe seemed to have missed. But before he could retract his strength, he found a large hand wearing a pitch-black gauntlet on the axe handle.
As if clamped tightly by iron tongs, no matter how hard Garrosh tried, he could not break his weapon free from the restraint. With his considerable combat experience, he immediately let go and retreated, drawing a spare axe from the other side.
"Draenosh, help me!"
Garrosh almost blurted out this sentence without thinking, but until the sound completely disappeared into the dark corridor, he received no response.
"Run..."
Garrosh turned his head and saw that Draenosh was now clamped by the neck, his feet off the ground, lifted by a strange force. The axe in his hand also slipped due to the feeling of weakness from suffocation.
"Draenosh!"
Although he knew that fleeing might be the best option, Garrosh's sense of honor did not allow him to abandon his companion and flee alone. After letting out a battle cry, he gathered strength and charged forward, his legs pushing off, leaping into the air. He used his hand axe like a great axe, raising it over his head, about to deliver a fatal blow to the person controlling Draenosh.
However, he heard a name from the other party.
"Grommash."
This name briefly startled Garrosh, and by the time he realized it was a matter of life and death, a person taller and stronger than him had already leaped above him. The axe, shaped like Gorehowl, faced him, slamming him onto the floor like a fly.
The heavy force caused Garrosh to directly shatter the rock beneath him. He felt a metallic taste in his throat and spat out some fresh blood. His entire body's bones felt as if they had been shattered by that powerful blow.
.......
Draenosh was also thrown beside him like trash at this moment. The two unfortunate brothers lay on the ground, awaiting their fate.
However, the imagined death did not come. Garrosh and Draenosh, in a semi-conscious state, heard their attackers talking.
"Draenosh?... Is this guy Saurfang's kid?"
"Not sure, but the one next to him should be your son, hehe, Grom, you're pretty hard on your own son."
"Stop talking nonsense, Ogrim, take the prisoner away."
"Hmm... It's a rare opportunity. I want to talk to Thrall and see how the Horde is doing now."
Immediately after, the world spun, and Garrosh felt darkness completely engulf him. He collapsed and passed out—he had been defeated shamefully once again, the kind with no power to fight back.
Looking at Varian, who was brought before him in a coma state, Arthas did not rush to undo the magic that caused him to fall asleep; instead, he asked Ogrim, who had just completed his mission, "Was it smooth?"
"Everything went smoothly, Master," Ogrim grinned a few times. Ogrim had no complaints about this mission. Arthas had condoned his "non-mission" activities and had not asked him to eliminate anyone who discovered their identities.
Otherwise, Garrosh and Draenosh would never have survived at the hands of him and Grommash. Those two youngsters might have been stronger than others, but unfortunately, they were too young for them.
"Cleaning up the loose ends wasn't troublesome, it's just that the arena made me a bit nauseous," Grommash still said in a muffled voice, "Too weak, all of them are guys who should be eliminated."
Grommash was very disappointed that his son appeared in such a dull place, so he was a bit heavy-handed when he acted—although he didn't have deep feelings for his son, the basic blood ties still prevented him from directly killing him.
Ogrim was silent for a while, then looked at the fallen Varian and asked, "Do I need to undo the magic on him?"
Arthas shook his head, "Have you seen Thrall? Does he know about Varian?"
"I've seen him. Thrall said he knew Varian was missing, but when I mentioned that a slave gladiator identical to Varian was imprisoned in the arena in Durotar, he was first greatly shocked, and then furious."
Ogrim recalled Thrall's rare angry expression, "This matter should have nothing to do with the Horde. Thrall doesn't want his people to go to war with the Alliance over this kind of framing at this time."
Although the Horde was growing stronger day by day, their power was still very weak compared to the Alliance. The mastermind throwing someone identical to Varian into Durotar was simply asking the entire Horde to be buried with the Alliance's wrath.
So, after learning the news, Thrall was filled with fear and anger. He stated that if the real culprit behind the scenes could be found, he would definitely make the other party pay with blood.
"A small, and not very clever trick." Arthas glanced at Varian lying on the ground, casually waved his hand, and an invisible force lifted the "imposter" who looked identical to his friend. "Don't play hide-and-seek with me, Azshara, I know it's you."
A soft laugh came from the void, but the laughter was filled with undisguised arrogance, "As expected of you, Lich King Arthas, your mastery of power amazes even me—perhaps you alone can solve that huge problem?"
"I haven't settled the score with you for the tidestone yet, and you're using such tricks to sow discord between the Alliance and the Horde. If you want to feel my wrath, there's no need to go to such trouble."
By the end of his words, Arthas's tone was as cold as frost. Azshara was undoubtedly a difficult opponent, but if the other party repeatedly provoked his bottom line, he would not mind paying some price to make Azshara recognize reality.
"A ruler shouldn't get angry easily," Azshara still had that expression, "If you don't like this, then fine—"
After she finished speaking, Varian's flesh squirmed, and the dark magic cast upon it was broken by Azshara's will, revealing the hidden massive body—a dead N'raqi.
Arthas frowned, watching all of this without speaking, because he sensed that Azshara had something else to say, regarding the N'raqi corpse she deliberately showed him.
"N'Zoth's messenger, hmm, don't you like this greeting?" Azshara's soft laughter echoed through the fortress.
"N'Zoth has countless such servants... Where did he die?" Arthas didn't detect anything special from the N'raqi messenger's corpse, but he keenly sensed the secret Azshara was trying to show him.
"I like dealing with clever people. The child I sent to Pandaria found this unlucky fellow in that vault—when he died, my empire hadn't sunk into the sea yet."
Dead for over ten thousand years?
Arthas immediately guessed the origin of this N'raqi messenger—N'Zoth knew Y'Shaarj was completely dead, but wasn't sure if Y'Shaarj had left any legacy, so he sent his messenger a long time ago, trying to find something in Pandaria. However, unfortunately, he either provoked the Guardian in the Titan ruins or got lost due to Pandaria's mists. In any case, he was left on that continent after the Great Sundering until he was discovered by Azshara's people.
"What do you want to do?" Arthas asked Azshara directly. This woman went to great lengths to tell him such a thing, she must have some plan.
"It seems you guessed it? That's right, N'Zoth knows there's something hidden by the Titans in Pandaria, but he doesn't know exactly what it is, so he sent his apostle. Unfortunately, although the Mogu themselves have constant troubles, it doesn't mean they can tolerate the Old God's servants running wild in their territory."
Azshara explained the whole story, "And I, by chance, know some things about the Mogu, such as what might be buried in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms."
"Heh..." Arthas chuckled, "It seems your current master doesn't satisfy you."
"Master? Heh heh, he and I are just using each other. The Dark Empire? A ridiculous promise. In the starry sky, neither the Titans nor the Burning Legion will let go of Azeroth, which has been corrupted by the Dark Empire. His vision will ultimately only lead to a long road of waiting for death."
Azshara scoffed at N'Zoth's plan. N'Zoth was just dreaming his own pipe dreams. Neither the Burning Legion nor the Pantheon would tolerate Azeroth being corrupted by the Void. As for the Void Lords, their hands couldn't reach the real universe, otherwise they wouldn't have sent such a group of Old Gods as seeds for their corruption of the universe.
"You were too slow in discovering Pandaria, so I gave it a little push," Azshara brought the topic back to reality, "One last reminder, N'Zoth is getting a bit impatient."
The voice stopped abruptly after the last word was spoken, and Azshara's magic also dissipated from the Faceless One's corpse. This sorceress's power was indeed astonishing, not only controlling the N'raqi to confuse N'Zoth's vision, but also temporarily giving it a new form and life with magic.
However, what was most daunting was not Azshara's power, because there were many powers in this world that could rival or even surpass her in physical form, but Azshara's strategy and ambition were unique. She would seek anything that could make her more "great," and it was clear that she felt N'Zoth was no longer sufficient to play this role.
"What should we do? It sounds like we're walking right into this woman's trap." Ogrim was also well aware of Azshara's plan.
"Pandaria must be explored no matter what, because too many secrets concerning the world's fate are hidden there," Arthas said. "As for Azshara... no one knows what her exact intentions are, but she knows we will definitely go to Pandaria and we will definitely fight N'Zoth..."
However, this doesn't mean Azshara will definitely be able to extricate herself. N'Zoth is not an easy opponent; he won't be too lenient with Azshara just because she is currently his most useful servant. And there's one thing Azshara herself is very clear about: once N'Zoth succeeds, she definitely won't have a good outcome.
So, for her, the best course of action right now is to help no one.
.....
When the identity of the "Varian" who appeared in Durotar was proven to be fake, Bolvar, on the contrary, breathed a sigh of relief.
This matter indirectly confirmed the accuracy of the revelation Anduin had seen, and if this matter had been related to the Horde, it would have been much more troublesome to deal with, possibly even escalating into another war.
It should be known that not much time had passed since the Orcish Wars, and many of those who personally experienced the major battles were still alive.
The hatred brought by war would not easily dissipate, and if exploited and incited by those with ulterior motives, no one knew how much chaos it could cause.
Among the current Alliance members, the majority had new and old grievances with the Horde, and many of them were staunch warmongers.
Even if the animosity with the Horde was temporarily set aside due to various crises that threatened the safety of the entire world, it did not mean that those past events were simply forgotten.
"This time, we failed in our duties and almost provoked another terrible war," Shaw said, standing beside Bolvar, somewhat ashamed of their work's error.
"You can't be blamed for this, old friend, but this matter proves, as Arthas said, that our enemies are incredibly cunning and devious, and any unwise decision could lead to our power consuming itself," Bolvar did not blame SI:7 for their failed operation.
Facing black magic they had never seen before, coupled with a lack of intelligence, it was already very difficult for them to report Varian's possible whereabouts in time.
Since the Grand Duke and Regent had temporarily put this matter aside, Shaw immediately reported another matter, "Our fleet has found the sea area shrouded in dense fog, but the great fog there possesses some mysterious power.
Even Kul Tiras's Tidesages cannot find the correct path within it, often circling around and ending up in another sea area."
"Establish a semi-permanent supply point on the island closest to Pandaria, and let our fleet fully break through the fog's barrier," Bolvar gave the order without hesitation.
"That land is full of unknowns, and the longer our King stays there, the greater the possibility of encountering danger."
"Yes, Regent."
-----------------
After almost a week of the Stormwind Kingdom and other Alliance members' fleets hovering in the suspected waters around Pandaria, they finally discovered that the mist shrouding the sea area began to gradually dissipate, and the magic in the great fog that affected compasses and other directional aids also began to recede.
Finally, on the fifteenth day of Varian's disappearance, Kul Tiras's ships were the first to approach the coast of Pandaria, and the flagship of this fleet was Daelin's personal vessel—the Sea King's Call.
"Furl the sails, reduce speed! Watch out for reefs and cliffs!"
Accompanied by the calls and shouts of the sailors, Daelin took out his spyglass and began to observe the surrounding sea area and environment—their ship had entered a shallow sea filled with stone forests, still covered by dense fog, but these fogs were no longer like the mist that covered the entire sea area, repelling their entry; they merely affected visibility.
"Father, we've arrived." Jaina, wearing a hood, walked to Daelin's side.
She had also sailed with Kul Tiras's fleet, hoping to provide some assistance for this search operation.
......
"A very distinctive landscape.
Even though I have reached most of Azeroth's coasts, I have never seen such scenery," Daelin couldn't help but exclaim in admiration at the sight of Pandaria, while also feeling a little puzzled, "It's incredible that such a land has been shrouded in mist for tens of thousands of years.
If I hadn't personally experienced these past few days of sailing, I would never have believed such nonsense."
"There are many secrets in this world that we cannot understand—this is what my teacher taught me on my first day as a mage apprentice," Jaina gently pulled down her hood, leaning on her staff and looking up at the towering stone pillars that seemed to reach into the sky.
Although their cliff faces were almost vertical to the ground, many vibrant green plants stubbornly clung to them, resisting the erosion of the sea breeze.
"Then let's see how magical this land truly is… I can already see the coast."
Daelin put down his monocular telescope.
At this moment, he could already see the faint coastline with his naked eye.
Soon, the fleet approached the coast of Pandaria, but unfortunately, this area did not have a deep-water port suitable for ships to berth.
Jaina suggested that she lead a small team to the coast first to scout the situation and establish a camp, while Daelin took the fleet to find a suitable port area.
The Naval Commander also agreed to his daughter's plan.
Jaina immediately led her personnel, got into a small boat, and rowed towards the shore.
The section of the journey close to the beach was still shrouded in dense fog, making it almost impossible for them to see the exact appearance of the coast.
Jaina stood at the bow, completely unafraid of the rocking caused by the waves, and at the same time lit up her staff with a spell, guiding the team's direction.
They didn't take long to reach the shore, yet the entire world still seemed to be shrouded in dense fog, and the sky was very gloomy.
All scenes seemed to be left with only black and white colors.
Looking back at the Kul Tiras fleet, which was already blurred in the fog, made Jaina feel a little uncertain—had they truly arrived at the picturesque Pandaria that Arthas had spoken of?
However, no matter what conjectures they had, to confirm whether they were in Pandaria, they had to go deeper, rather than just circling the coastline.
"Everyone, stay alert and follow me."
Jaina walked directly at the front of the team, but also very cautiously protected herself with a mana shield.
The unknown often means danger, and the children of Kul Tiras all understood this.
Stepping onto the muddy path and venturing deeper into the jungle, Jaina noticed that the surroundings were no longer just simple vegetation, but instead, stone carvings and fences that she had never seen before, yet possessed a strong artistic sense, had appeared.
Looking at the moss and ferns covering the stone carvings, as well as the wooden fences and ropes decayed by the humid environment, this area had probably not been trodden by humans for some time.
Jaina was carefully examining the stone carvings with their unique artistic style, illuminated by the light condensed from Arcane, when she heard a subordinate's shout.
"Lady Proudmoore, please come and see this!"
Putting aside her intention to study the artwork, Jaina's team crossed an arched stone bridge.
After passing through a tall archway somewhat similar in style to the Night Elves, Jaina suddenly felt a distinct sense of separation in the air.
She immediately used magic to part the faint mist before her, and as the light of Arcane carried the mist away to both sides of the team, the bright sunlight finally pierced through the great fog and shone upon everyone.
The next second, what met their eyes was no longer the gloomy and damp jungle, but a vast land shining with verdant green, brimming with vibrant life like an emerald bestowed upon the mortal realm by the gods.
The mist shrouding Pandaria finally dissipated at this moment, and this land, blessed by countless miracles and mysteries, revealed its first glimpse of beauty to the world.