"They took possession of the temple," said Kilgardan, "but they didn't find what I wanted." ”

Kil'Gardan's voice was as soft as ever, but his tail whipped anxiously. Gul'dan felt his stomach shrink in fear.

"The betrayer Veron must have somehow known in advance," Gul'dan said. "He was called a 'prophet.'" ”

Kil'Gardan's huge head swayed, and Gul'dan had to force himself not to shake too much. Then Kilgardan nodded slowly.

"You're right," he said. "If he was a simple and stupid enemy, I would be able to find him here now. ”

Gul'dan breathed a sigh of relief. He was tempted to ask what exactly Velen had done to his master to make him have such a focused hatred. But Gul'dan wisely remained silent. He doesn't live by curiosity on this subject.

"We have captured their temple, my lord, and the surviving draenei must have fled to the city. They will feel safe there, but they will be trapped. ”

Kilgardan clasped his fingers together and said with a smile, "Well, yes. The temple should be yours. Blackham was comfortable sitting in the fort. Before you ordered your little puppets to attack the Draenei's base camp, I was a little... Gifts to be given to them. ”

Naozu waited, half-open as he watched Gul'dan finish writing letter after letter, dyeing his short, thick fingers, putting ink on them, and using them to grab a piece ≥of fruit or a piece of meat and throw it into his mouth. It seems that these letters were so important that Gul'dan would normally call a scribe to do them.

The temple was... Purified, these are the exact words of Guldan. The sacrifices that remained to bravely and foolishly fight against the orc armies have also been killed. Naozu heard that their bodies had been insulted. He found that he still had enough compassion. The thought of this also makes me sick and disgusted. The bodies that had been insulted had long since been disposed of. and their holy things were taken away. Many parts of the temple are closed, and the Shadow Council and their minions don't need so many places. Some of the utensils were left to serve the council, and the rest were destroyed or removed and replaced with dark evil thorny ornaments that had quickly become associated with the tribe and represented the tribe. The entire building was renamed the Temple of Darkness and no longer served the priests and prophets, but liars and betrayers. And he thought bitterly that he was one of them.

Finally Gul'dan was done. He sprinkled some toner to avoid defacement. Then lean back in your chair. He looked at his former mentor with a vague disgust.

"Write down the addresses and bring them to the messenger, and be quick. ”

Naozu tilted his head, he still couldn't bow to his former apprentice, and Gul'dan knew how cowardly and incompetent Naozu was, and didn't ask for it. He sat down in the chair that Gul'dan had given up, and by this time Guldan's heavy footsteps were no longer audible, and he immediately began to read.

Gul'dan, of course, knew that he would read the letters. And in fact, there is nothing in the letter that Nao Zu does not know. He participated in all the meetings of the Shadow Council, though he could only sit on the cold stone floor of the Dark Temple, rather than at the huge stone table with other people of real power. It was not clear to him why he had been asked to attend the meeting. It's just that Kilgardan wants it for some reason. Otherwise, he was sure that Gul'dan would get rid of him immediately.

His eyes swept over the words. He was disgusted. But there was nothing he could do, like a fly stuck by the slime that flowed down from the bark of the Oreba. Or rather, like the flies that used to be caught, because he had heard that almost all of these trees that produced sweet nectar had been cut down to make weapons, and the rest were dead. Nao Zu steadied himself and began to roll up the letter, his gaze slowly drifting to the blank parchment and pen.

The thought of taking a risk made his heart stop beating for a moment.

He looked around quickly, he was indeed the only one, and there was no reason for Gul'dan to come back. Gul'dan, Kil'Gardan, the council, they all thought he was cowardly and incompetent, like the soul of the ancestors who could not threaten him, like a toothless old wolf who warmed his old bones by the fire before dying. Basically, they're right.

Basically.

Naozu admits that he has been stripped of his strength, but only strength, not will. If the will is also deprived, he will not resist Kilgardan at all. Naozu can't act too directly, but he may be able to connect with someone who can.

He shuddered and took a blank piece of parchment, and he forced himself to stop and calm down before he could write something intelligible. Finally he scribbled a short message and rolled it up. The old wolf is toothless, but remembers how to fight.

More orders to go on the march. Durotan's disgust grew more and more visceral. There was no longer any rest, only fighting, repairing armor, eating meat that was getting rougher and harder to gnaw, sleeping on the ground, and then another battle. Time passes by to the sound of drums, feasts, laughter, and ceremonies. The perfect edges and corners of the sacred mountain on the horizon are now replaced by deep, formidable spire-like silhouettes, with the occasional black smoke emitting. Some people say that there is something in the mountain that sleeps and will wake up one day. Durotan didn't know what else to believe.

After the messenger left, Durotan unfolded the letter and began to read it numbly. But his eyes widened immediately, and by the time he finished reading it, he was already trembling and sweating. He looked up, worried that no one would be able to guess the contents of the letter from the way he read it. Orcs come and go, rough flaky skin and scarred armor in the dust. No one noticed him except for a casual glance at him.

He hurried back to find Draka, the only person in the world he dared to sue. Her eyes widened as she read the letter.

"Who else knows?" She whispered, trying to make her feelings invisible.

"It's just you," he said in the same whisper.

"Are you going to sue Sù Ogrim?"

Durotan shook his head, sad in his heart. "I don't dare, he swore to sue Sù Blackhan. ”

"Do you think Blackham knows?"

Durotan shrugged. "I don't know who else knows. I just know that I have to protect my people and I will. ”

Drakar stared at him for a long time. "If our entire clan doesn't do this... We'll get noticed. You risk punishment, possibly exile or execution. ”

Durotan pointed to the letter, "It's better than us obeying this anyway." I swore to defend my clan. I'm not going to let them go to"

He realized that the sound was a bit loud, and some people began to look over to them. "I'm not going to let them compromise with that. ”

Drakar's eyes were welling up with tears, and she gripped his hand firmly, nails digging into his flesh. "This," she said excitedly, "is why I am your partner." I'm so proud of you. ”

Gul'dan was overwhelmed with emotion. He had been looking forward to it since Kilgardan first proposed it. He was even more fervent than his master for a quicker move forward, but Kilgardan just smiled and waited patiently.

"I watched them and they weren't quite ready. Timing is important, Gul'dan. In the same way, if you strike too early or too late, you can't kill people, you can only hurt people. ”

Gul'dan saw this as a strange metaphor, but he understood what Kil'Gardan was saying. Now, finally, Kilgardan thinks the orcs are ready to take the final step.

The Dark Temple has a central courtyard that opens up to the night sky. When the temple was still part of the Draenei, it was a green garden with a square pool in the middle. The squatters have been drinking the sweet, clear water for the past few weeks without thinking to replenish it. Now the pool is empty, with only stones and tiles remaining. The surrounding trees and flowers soon withered and died. At Kil'Gardan's request, Naozu and Gul'dan are now standing by the empty pool. They all knew what they were waiting for.

They stood without saying a word for a long time. Gul'dan wondered if he had offended his master somewhere. The thought made him break out in a cold sweat, and then he glanced at Naozu uneasily. He wondered if the rebellious old shaman would be killed tonight for his rebellion, and the thought made him a little happier. His mind roamed, contemplating the various ways of torture that could be used on Naozu, when a sudden thunderclap startled both of them. Gul'dan looked up at the sky, which was still full of stars just now, but now there was only a black and empty patch. He swallowed hard, staring firmly at the darkness.

Suddenly, the darkness began to roll over, looking like a thundercloud that flickered from time to time. Then it begins to coil into a swirl, winding faster and faster. The wind ruffled Gul'dan's hair and robes, at first gently, then more and more violently, until he felt the wind cut like a knife. The ground rumbled beneath his feet, and he saw out of the corner of his eye that Naozu's lips were moving, but he couldn't hear what was being said, the wind was too loud. The ground shook so violently that he became more and more unsteady