Under the spell that turned stone to sand, the temple collapsed, finally revealing the horrific sacrificial scene that had been hidden in the abyss.
For Alaric, the Windrunner sisters, and the Alliance commanders who had arrived later, this was the first time they truly witnessed the gruesome and savage nature of the trolls' blood sacrifices.
Even as their enemies, they couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of horror and sorrow at the sight before them.
The scene was beyond anything a normal person could comprehend.
In the abyss lay a mountain of corpses, piled so high that they nearly reached the edge. At the base of this grotesque hill, dark red blood had pooled into a lake, one to two meters deep.
The bodies were those of bears, eagles, dragonhawks, and lynxes—creatures that were the sacred companions of the four Loa gods, once granted to the Amani trolls as battle partners.
Yet now, these revered beasts, these longtime allies of the trolls, had been slaughtered and discarded as mere sacrifices.
Perhaps, before their deaths, these creatures had not even resisted. After all, how could they have predicted that their long-time partners, the trolls, had fallen into such depravity?
These trolls had forsaken everything, even betraying their own gods, all for the sake of power.
But what was even more horrifying was that the pile of corpses consisted mostly of trolls themselves.
Judging by their clothing, the vast majority were not warriors but women, the elderly, and children.
They were the women and children of the Amani trolls.
Their green limbs were tangled together in an unsettling mass, and aside from a single wound on their throats, there were no other signs of struggle or injury.
It was clear that before they were thrown into the abyss, they had already been drained of their blood. The massive blood pool at the bottom was formed from their sacrificed lives.
Seeing this, Alaric estimated that at least tens of thousands of Amani troll civilians had been slaughtered. This was nearly the entire bloodline of the Amani trolls—save for a few survivors, the last embers of this ancient empire had been extinguished here.
Now, he finally understood how Mar'li'kas had managed to siphon the power of the Loa gods before the Zandalari trolls even arrived.
Clearly, with the Alliance's relentless siege pushing him into a corner, he had resorted to the most desperate and forbidden methods.
But the ones who reacted most violently were not Alaric or the Alliance, but the remaining troll warriors.
They recognized the bodies immediately. Some even found their own family members among the dead.
Their religious leader, the one they had trusted and worshiped, had deceived them.
The so-called "evacuation" of their women and children had been a lie.
These so-called evacuees had instead been sacrificed, turned into mere fuel for Mar'li'kas' thirst for power.
This realization drove the troll warriors to the brink of madness.
Now, in their eyes, the humans and high elves were no longer their primary enemies. Their only enemy was the one standing before them—Mar'li'kas himself.
With howls of rage, they raised their weapons and charged at him.
Yet, Mar'li'kas, whose dark secrets had been exposed, seemed unfazed.
Tapping his totemic staff against the ground, countless shadowy tentacles erupted from beneath him.
These tendrils moved with unnatural speed, catching the troll warriors off guard. In an instant, every single one of them—except for their leader, Dakara—was bound, unable to move.
"As expected, you still don't understand me," Mar'li'kas sighed, his voice sending chills down everyone's spines.
"Even my own kin remain short-sighted. Were all these sacrifices not made for the greater good? For the revival of the Amani Empire?"
But there was no answer.
The troll warriors, their bodies trapped, could do nothing but glare at him with pure hatred.
Mar'li'kas merely continued, as if speaking to himself: "Since you refuse to see reason, then you shall serve as my next offering."
As soon as his words fell, the shadowy tentacles acted in unison. Sharp tendrils pierced through the trolls' chests, siphoning their blood at an alarming speed. The crimson liquid streamed down their bodies and into the ritual carvings on the ground.
Only now did Alaric and the others realize that the area before the altar was covered in intricate blood grooves.
The blood flowed into these channels, forming an ominous pattern. As the lines were completed, they began to glow with a deep violet-black light, channeling immense shadow energy into Mar'li'kas.
"Ah… such power!" Mar'li'kas sighed dreamily, his body trembling with ecstasy. "These sacrifices will strengthen my connection to the spirit realm. Soon, I will be unstoppable!"
"Damn it! Stop him!" Alaric shouted, his expression grim. He could already hear the distant wails of the four Loa gods in another world.
Mar'li'kas had exploited the Amani trolls' faith and devotion, deceiving the Loa and forcibly reversing the flow of divine power.
Instead of bestowing blessings upon the trolls, the Loa were now being drained against their will.
Originally, the divine energy of the Loa had been distributed among the four troll champions: Akil'zon, Nalorakk, Jan'alai, and Halazzi.
But now, Mar'li'kas sought to absorb all of that power into himself.
If he succeeded, his strength would reach unimaginable levels.
Yet Mar'li'kas merely laughed triumphantly.
"If you want to stop me, you must first defeat these champions of the Loa!"
Akil'zon, Nalorakk, Jan'alai, and Halazzi stepped forward, forming a line between the Alliance forces and Mar'li'kas.
Alaric scanned his allies.
Standing beside him were some of the strongest warriors of the Alliance: Alleria, Sylvanas, Kurdran Wildhammer, Shar'thos Vordun, Saxis, and Lelorah the Dawnslayer.
The last three were formidable warriors from the high elves' elite military divisions.
Shar'thos led the Firewing Division, Saxis commanded the Sunfury Division, and while Lelorah did not lead a battalion, she was the strongest warrior of the Flameblade Division. Her only shortcoming was her lack of seniority.
Additionally, the battle mages of Quel'Thalas stood ready.
Alaric looked at his comrades and spoke solemnly.
"Your enemies are the four champions of the Loa. Your goal is not to defeat them outright—we do not have time for that.
Your mission is to hold them off, keep them occupied, and buy me enough time to disrupt Mar'li'kas' ritual. Understood?"
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Alaric was satisfied.
"I will assist you at the start of the battle. Now—attack!"
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