The battle between the towering totem stone giants and the god-powered warriors was nothing short of earth-shaking.
Especially the massive and heavy stone giants—each punch and kick they delivered sent tremors rippling through the ground, causing small-scale earthquakes.
The already ruined city trembled violently under their clashes, with dilapidated structures collapsing one after another.
Unlucky trolls and Alliance soldiers alike found themselves buried beneath the debris.
As the battle escalated, neither the Amani trolls nor the Alliance dared to remain within the buildings, fearing these ancient, fragile structures would come crashing down at any moment due to the relentless shaking.
This turn of events actually played to the advantage of the Alliance. As the dominant force, they had no desire to engage in desperate, close-quarters combat with the trolls.
The so-called "earthquakes" forced the trolls out of their hiding spots, stripping them of their geographical advantage.
But more than anything, the battle between these colossal beings instilled sheer terror in ordinary soldiers.
Regardless of which side they fought for, none dared to approach the city's center. To them, that battlefield was a domain beyond their comprehension—one where mere mortals had no place.
Among those most concerned with the battle near the temple were the commanders of the Alliance, and none were more anxious than the Windrunner sisters.
Following Alaric's orders, they had raced through the city at full speed, gathering every powerful warrior they could find to reinforce their lone champion.
When the first stone giant in the temple district began to rise, they immediately took notice.
After all, how could they not? The sheer size of the stone giant made it impossible to miss.
Yet, while they knew Alaric could wield transformation magic, they had never witnessed him using it at such an advanced level. Thus, they had no idea which side the stone giant belonged to.
All they knew was that Alaric was in the temple, facing an increasingly complex situation.
As they continued rallying the strongest fighters in the Alliance and drawing closer to the temple, they saw—one by one—the four towering stone giants falling.
They didn't fully grasp the significance of this development, but driven by urgency, the sisters pressed on, pushing their limits to reach Alaric faster.
A desperate Alleria even abandoned her horse, relying solely on her skills as a top-tier ranger to unleash her full speed, determined to reach Alaric as quickly as possible.
And then, when the Windrunner sisters finally arrived at the battlefield in front of the temple, they witnessed the final towering totem stone giant—its knee shattered by the berserk strike of Nalorakk, the bear spirit—crumbling under its own weight, collapsing into a heap of rubble with a thunderous crash.
Even though these giants wielded the mighty power of the Loa gods, their sluggish movements and cumbersome bodies ultimately became their downfall, as the god-powered warriors methodically dismantled them one by one.
With the last of the stone creatures eliminated, Mar'lakash finally exhaled in relief.
Once again, he conjured a shadowy voodoo shield to intercept Alaric's relentless barrage of arcane missiles, which rained down like a machine gun.
Then, gathering a surge of potent shadow energy, he forced Alaric back temporarily, giving himself a moment to breathe.
Several of the god-powered warriors also stepped forward, standing protectively before him, awaiting his orders.
As the shadows dispersed, Mar'lakash reemerged in Alaric's line of sight. He locked eyes with the mage who had relentlessly suppressed him and spoke in a dark, sinister tone.
"I must admit, mage, you are the most powerful spellcaster I have ever encountered… But you have still failed. Before the power of the Loa gods, your magic is meaningless!"
"And you, Mar'lakash?" Alaric retorted with a smirk. "If my magic is so meaningless, then why do you still grovel and beg?
You are nothing but a pathetic traitor, a disgrace who betrayed his own gods and stole their power."
Alaric spoke in Zandali—the language of the trolls. As soon as his words left his lips, panic rippled through the ranks of the trolls, save for Dakala, who already knew the truth.
Until now, the Amani trolls had never seen warriors so powerful—half-beast, half-troll beings wielding the strength of the Loa gods.
In their eyes, these warriors were divine incarnations. But now, with Alaric's words, doubt began to fester in their hearts.
Seeing their hesitation, Alaric pressed forward.
"Mar'lakash, do you know why the once-mighty Amani trolls are now nothing more than scavengers, clinging to the ruins of their fallen empire?
Why you have been driven to this desperate state?"
"…What are you trying to say?" Mar'lakash's expression darkened further, irritation creeping into his voice.
But Alaric ignored him, instead addressing the gathered trolls in a commanding voice.
"The trolls have ruled for millennia, yet what has changed in all that time? Nothing! Not in the vast empire of old, nor in the dwindling tribes of today.
You remain as barbaric, as cruel, and as bloodthirsty as ever! You still treat others with malice—you still treat yourselves with malice!
You continue to feast on flesh, to sacrifice your own to dark rituals!
And because of that, you have stagnated, forever left behind, outmatched by every other race—whether it be the Amani, the Sandfury trolls of Zul'Farrak, the jungle trolls of Zul'Gurub, the frost trolls of Zul'Drak, or even the so-called 'civilized' Zandalari."
"Oh? So that is your grand conclusion?" Mar'lakash snarled, his voice rising in fury. "Is this the justification you invaders use for stealing our lands and driving us to extinction?!"
"Yes, you are absolutely right," Alaric replied with cold indifference.
"To the trolls, we are indeed the newcomers. But any other troll might have the right to accuse us of this—except for you. What right do you have to speak, Mar'lakash?
I swear, the blood of trolls on my hands is not even a fraction of what stains yours! I can see it—the thick, suffocating resentment of the thousands of troll souls that haunt your so-called god warriors.
To deceive your gods and steal their power, you must have offered an unimaginable number of sacrifices. You… are nothing more than a puppet of Bwonsamdi, the troll god of death!"
"You… you lie!" Mar'lakash roared, his voice tinged with desperation. He would never admit the truth before his fellow trolls.
While the Amani had long practiced ritual sacrifices, the scale of the sacrifices he had conducted to extract Loa power was unprecedented.
"If you won't admit it, then let them see the truth with their own eyes!" Alaric declared.
With a flick of his wand, he pointed toward the temple.
The next moment, the temple's stone walls and vaulted ceiling began to erode at a visible rate under his Petrification-to-Dust spell. Crumbling into vast clouds of sand, the structure collapsed entirely.
With the temple destroyed, the sacrificial altar—and the abyss below it—were laid bare for all to see.
The horrors revealed within that abyss were so gruesome that even the battle-hardened Windrunner sisters, who carried a deep-seated hatred for trolls, had to avert their eyes in disgust.
As for the remaining Amani warriors before the temple, they fell into utter chaos, their minds shattered by the horrifying truth.
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