It took Arthas two days to follow the small troll squad back to Zuldazar, the capital city of the Zandalari Trolls.
There was a time when the trolls were the supreme rulers of this continent, using the power of their entire empire to crush the Qiraji, who were supported by the Old Gods, multiplied at an extremely fast rate, and could devour the entire continent.
No one knew the immense price the trolls paid to shatter the seemingly invincible Qiraji.
One after another, trolls stepped forward to self-detonate when facing Faceless Ones commanders with demigod strength; if one wasn't enough, then two.
Even the Loa gods joined the battle, ultimately tearing apart the vast Qiraji empire, scattering them in retreat.
If not for their fearlessness in the face of death, the entire world would likely have been occupied by the Qiraji, and there would have been no night elves later, nor the emergence of intelligent races like dwarves and humans.
Standing beneath Zuldazar's massive pyramid, feeling the rich and profound historical aura, even Arthas was awestruck.
That phrase, "Zandalar Forever," truly wasn't just words; it genuinely existed!
Though dilapidated now, it still possessed considerable heritage.
Eating, sleeping, and fighting trolls—wasn't this also an affirmation of the trolls' resilience?
Which race could withstand being defeated in one expansion and nearly wiped out in another?
The roads were paved with smooth stones, flanked by God-Warriors clad in golden armor; each warrior possessed formidable combat prowess, not much inferior to a Human Highlord.
Even if the Alliance were to primarily engage Zandalar in war, it's likely the Alliance would be the one to lose.
The heritage of ancient races was by no means comparable to ordinary races; after all, they were a race that had fought for Azeroth, and on that pyramid, there were no fewer than ten demigod-level presences.
Arthas was also a demigod, even if he had just stepped into it, he was still a demigod.
Among peers, that kind of sensation couldn't be wrong.
A hunched troll, escorted by a squad of guards, walked over. He wore a necklace made of beast bones, and his priestly robes emitted a unique glow, clearly an extraordinary piece of equipment.
He placed his right hand on his chest and bowed slightly.
"Respected Demigod Arthas, I am Zul, the Prophet of the Zandalar Empire. The God-King awaits you at the Skyreach, along with the various Loa. Please follow me."
When facing gods, Trolls would affectionately address them by name, followed by 'Your Majesty.'
Gods are immortal and eternal, hence 'Your Majesty' is used, as the highest form of respect.
Although Arthas looked very strange in the eyes of the Trolls, no different from a monster, which Loa wasn't an animal? What did it matter if he looked strange!
The pyramid was very tall, estimated to be over five hundred meters, and with the natural slope of the mountain, it might have been over six or seven hundred meters.
He remembered clearly, he used to love leaping from the highest platform, deploying his kite glider, and slowly drifting to the distant port.
With the breeze on his face, watching the tiny figures on the ground grow larger, experiencing firsthand the awe inspired by this ancient city was also a pleasant pastime.
"Your Majesty, is something wrong?"
Zul looked at Arthas, who had stopped, and asked with some confusion.
Arthas shook his head, a faint smile appearing on his handsome face beneath the helmet.
"Nothing. Are the trolls ready to fight for Azeroth again, to resist foreign invaders?"
He wasn't sure if the trolls had participated in the War of the Ancients; it seemed they hadn't.
The world soul would observe all of this; she hadn't awakened, but that didn't mean she didn't know what was happening.
Races that had shed blood for her would surely receive protection and blessings, whether small or large, but certainly some.
Without the protection of the star soul, could the Trolls have survived the explosion of the Well of Eternity, when three-quarters of the continent sank?
And coincidentally thrive on a large island?
No one would believe that.
Zul paused slightly, not responding. He was merely a prophet; even as the empire's second-in-command, he couldn't make such a decision.
It wasn't his place to speak, so he maintained silence.
However, as he looked at Arthas again, his hollow eyes focused. He saw a new future, a new hope.
Zandalar would become great again, but not through its own power, but by submitting to the demigod before him.
Besides the trolls, many, many other races and beings were prostrating themselves before the demigod, even the Death God, whom everyone feared, would lower his proud head.
The guards behind him caught Zul, thinking something had happened to him.
"My lord?"
Zul raised a hand, signaling them to step back.
"I'm fine."
Taking a deep breath, his posture became even more humble, and his tone grew even more deferential.
"Your Majesty, this way please."
Climbing on foot was a rule set for outsiders, and also for commoners. Only by climbing the high tower to its peak would one develop reverence for the monarchy.
But often, commoners weren't even qualified to do so; they wouldn't be allowed on the pyramid.
Inside, there was a dedicated 'elevator,' yes, an elevator, but it was powered by an unknown force.
Standing on it, one would be lifted, ascending all the way to the top.
They passed through corridors and entered the highest council hall.
From here, one could overlook the entire city; there was no hint of a technological steel jungle, but rather a profound closeness to nature, imbued with a strong primitive style.
"Your Majesty, this is the demigod who saved the First Legion detachment, Arthas."
"Arthas, this is Dazar, the Emperor of Zandalar."
Zul introduced the gods who appeared behind him one by one. Although they were all phantoms, their ability to be summoned and appear proved their high regard for the new demigod.
They worried about him coming to seize territory, and also about him taking their followers.
Demigods were peculiar beings; relying on the faith of their followers, along with certain materials and unique rituals, they could even be resurrected after death.
The power of faith could enhance their strength and reinforce their divinity, perhaps one day allowing them to become new gods?
Arthas chuckled softly, smiling at these animal demigods.
"I am not here to preach. I am merely here to inform you that Azeroth is about to face an invasion from external enemies. When the war begins, I hope you will participate."
"If you do not wish to send troops, that is also fine. I would like to discuss and learn from your priests, so that I can defeat the shameless invaders in that catastrophic invasion."
With that, he recounted the story of the night elf Queen Azshara.
When the tall, robust Emperor Dazar, who resembled a tauren, heard the name Azshara, the muscles in his face couldn't help but twitch a few times.
It was clear that his relationship with Azshara was not good.
Indeed, after the trolls evolved into night elves under the energy of the Well of Eternity, the elves, who prided themselves on their beauty, naturally wouldn't acknowledge these distant, ugly relatives