The direct path to Zin-Azshari was tightly blockaded by the demon army, and even the skies were heavily guarded by flying demons such as Felbats.
Andreas had no choice but to first pivot south, bypassing the areas where the Burning Legion's defenses were concentrated, and quietly slip past the capital's defensive perimeter from the relatively thin southeastern side.
Deep within the ancient forest where the Golden Eagle swept southward at high speed, four Nathrezim with bat-like wings gathered together, silently looking up as they watched the strange raptor disappear into the distance.
"Hmph~ Those fellows have finally started to move. Everything is within Tichondrius' grasp."
"Sycophant! I, for one, hope our 'beloved' leader fails again. Otherwise, how would we ever get the chance to rise in rank?"
"I advise you not to pin your hopes on the leader making a mistake. Mind yourself; it's time we get to our own business."
"Stop arguing. Head south. Target: Zuldazar."
...
The mountains of Zuldazar were the holy land of the troll race.
Numerous primitive deities, whom the trolls called Loa, resided here. Their capital, Dazar'alor, possessed the most complete cultural and historical heritage of the trolls.
Strictly speaking, all trolls originally originated from Zuldazar.
However, not all troll tribes could endure the mundane life near the Holy Mountain, and as the population grew, the burden on this troll birthplace became increasingly heavy.
The Zandalari trolls practiced a dualistic rule; the God-King and the Prophet possessed nearly equal status and power, though they governed different domains.
The God-King's duties were no different from those of a king in a human kingdom, primarily responsible for managing the material lives of the Zandalari people—a typical wielder of royal authority.
The Prophet, on the other hand, bore the responsibility of communicating with the Loa—essentially a manager of theocratic power.
To protect the interests of the core Zandalari trolls, the God-King of that time allowed other troll tribes, who constantly challenged Zandalari authority, to move away from the Holy Mountain of Zuldazar.
The God-King promised them that all conquered territories would be managed by the tribes themselves, as long as they nominally continued to honor the Zandalari as their overlords.
From then on, the most powerful tribes besides the Zandalari—the Gurubashi, Amani, and Drakkari—departed one after another to various corners of the world to establish their own empires.
The Amani tribe traveled northeast after leaving the Holy Mountain, establishing their capital, Zul'Aman, in a deep forest. From then on, they were known as Forest Trolls.
The Drakkari tribe headed all the way north to the frigid climate of Northrend, founding their capital, Gundrak, amidst the ice and snow. Due to the environment's influence, they gradually began to call themselves Frost Trolls.
The most numerous tribe, the Gurubashi, split into two groups, establishing two cities in the southeastern and southwestern jungles of ancient Kalimdor named Zul'Gurub and Zul'Farrak. They renamed themselves Jungle Trolls.
Although they lost their three strongest subordinate tribes, the hostile atmosphere caused by the crowded cohabitation of multiple tribes around the Holy Mountain finally returned to peace.
However, not all trolls were willing to be exiled from the Holy Mountain. An ambitious individual named Zanza from the Gurubashi was deeply dissatisfied with this treatment.
Under the guidance of a mysterious dagger he accidentally obtained, he unintentionally awakened an ancient and terrifying existence. This directly led to a violent clash between the trolls, who ruled the world at the time, and another vast empire with a large population.
Although it ultimately ended in victory for the Troll Empire, they undoubtedly paid a staggering price in that tragic war.
The Dark Trolls, the predecessors of the Night Elves, were merely a small tribe at the time. They only began to develop after the major tribes like the Zandalari, Gurubashi, Amani, and Drakkari fell into a period of decline due to the brutal wars.
These "alternative" trolls, who lived at the foot of Mount Hyjal and were accustomed to being active at night, transformed into an entirely new race—the Night Elves—under the influence of the Well of Eternity's arcane energies.
The highly intelligent and beautiful Night Elves never admitted to having any connection with the "filthy and ugly" trolls. The two sides even fought a large-scale war over territorial issues.
From then on, the trolls who lost the war could only retreat to their own small corners of the world. Nursing their hatred for the Night Elves, they waited for the day when this empire—too powerful to resist—would eventually decline.
And now, they had finally waited long enough.
When Queen Azshara summoned the demons through the Well of Eternity, Zul'antz, the current Prophet residing atop the peaks of Zuldazar, immediately sensed it.
After some discussion between Zul'antz and God-King Jakra, they decided that the Zandalari trolls would temporarily wait and see.
Once the Night Elves showed signs of decline, they would ruthlessly take the initiative to reclaim the glory that had been insulted by Azshara.
The hub of the Burning Legion's invasion of Azeroth was controlled by the Highborne, who were uninterested in those defeated by the Night Empire.
As long as the portal could be expanded enough for the Fallen Titan Sargeras to enter, all resistance on this planet would be meaningless... at least, that was how Archimonde thought.
However, the Nathrezim loyal to Kil'jaeden the Deceiver held a different view. Cautious by nature and fond of playing with schemes, they preferred to focus on the details.
Having learned of the diplomatic mission Jarod sent to Pandaria through Succubus scouts, the Dreadlords decided to ambush and kill this group, severing the Resistance's hope for reinforcements.
...
"Silence!"
In the royal palace of Dazar'alor, the Zandalari capital, God-King Jakra gripped his gleaming golden scimitar and suddenly lunged forward, launching a fierce leaping strike at the troll below who appeared to be bowing respectfully.
Unlike the straight-backed Zandalari trolls, this green-skinned troll, who claimed to be from the Gurubashi, had a hunched and crooked posture.
But his movements were incredibly agile. Facing the enraged Jakra, the Gurubashi troll nimbly leaped backward, evading the unexpected attack.
Jakra didn't mind the missed strike. He pointed his scimitar at the hunched troll and barked, "I don't care if you're a real Gurubashi or not. Get out of sacred Dazar'alor immediately!"
An elderly troll holding a magnificent golden staff and wearing shimmering golden armor stepped out from behind Jakra.
His sharp eyes pierced the troll who still wore a fawning expression as he questioned, "Stop your clumsy performance. The warlike Gurubashi would never speak such nonsense as collaborating with demons."
Thud!
Prophet Zul'antz slammed his golden staff heavily onto the ground, glaring at the "Gurubashi" troll with an ill-tempered face.
"Demon, reveal your true form! To think you could use such cheap instigation to make us your cannon fodder—you underestimate the Zandalari trolls too much!"
Golden ripples spread outward from the point where Zul'antz's staff struck the floor. As they passed over the "Gurubashi" troll, his illusory disguise completely dissolved under a strange power, revealing the surprised Dreadlord within.
Clang!
The God-King's guards drew their swords and shields, surrounding the exposed Dreadlord. They only awaited the command from the Prophet or the God-King to rush forward and hack this audacious demon to pieces.
"Heh heh~"
The Dreadlord looked at the surrounding guards with disdain, then turned a playful gaze toward the two rulers of Zandalar.
"As expected of the trolls who once ruled Azeroth. A starving camel is still larger than a horse; I truly did underestimate you."
"Now then..."
The Dreadlord bowed with mock elegance. "Allow me to reintroduce myself."
"My name is Varimathras, of the Nathrezim."
A glint of cunning flashed in Varimathras' eyes as he spoke in a calm tone, tempting Jakra and Zul'antz.
"Zandalari trolls, regardless of my identity, a stray squad of Night Elves sits right before you. Do you not wish to take your revenge against those arrogant Night Elves?"