"Uh..."
Koda was completely speechless at Andreas's peculiar train of thought. "Wait a minute. The Archdruid sent you here to persuade the Tauren tribes, not to..."
"That's exactly right," Andreas shrugged, speaking nonchalantly. "Am I not currently thinking of ways to persuade the Tauren? If we don't let them see actual benefits, do you think we can change their minds just by talking? You're dreaming."
"But..."
Seeing the conflicted expression on Koda's face, Andreas smiled and patted her shoulder.
"I know what you mean. Let's prepare both options simultaneously."
"You continue to stay in contact with the Feltotem clan. It would be a good thing if you can persuade that indecisive Chieftain."
"As for me, I'll first go talk to the people of the Highmountain, Bloodtotem, and Rivermane tribes. I want to test their resolve while I'm at it. If the Chieftain of the Skyhorn tribe returns, remember to notify me immediately."
"Sigh..." Koda slapped her forehead in exasperation. "Have it your way. You're the one in charge now anyway. However, I hope you don't incite the Tauren to fight the Black Dragons to the death and cause them even heavier losses. These warriors were meant to be reinforcements for the front lines."
"Rest easy. You can't catch the wolf without sacrificing the bait. I know what I'm doing."
Koda couldn't help but roll her eyes. Does he really know what he's doing? I have a bad feeling about this...
...
"The Black Dragons' weakness?"
In front of Andreas, an exceptionally robust Tauren holding a spear rubbed his horns in confusion.
"I don't know if it counts as a weakness, but ever since Neltharion betrayed the Dragonflight, the Black Dragons under his command have been unwilling to live in the Black Dragon King's lair, as if there's some sort of lethal threat inside."
"Oh?" Andreas narrowed his eyes. This piece of intelligence seemed insignificant, but when connected to the reason for Neltharion's fall, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
"In other words, that cavern acting as Neltharion's lair has now become a forbidden zone for the other Black Dragons?"
Huln Highmountain nodded. "That's about it. Other than a large number of Drogbar living inside to tend to the dragon eggs, only a few dragonspawn remain stationed there."
Drogbar, also known as stone-trolls.
It was said that this grotesque and ugly race was also a Titan creation, though like the Troggs, they were considered failed experiments. Due to their innate and powerful affinity for the earth, the Drogbar had long been enslaved by the Earth-Warden Neltharion's Black Dragonflight.
Andreas vaguely remembered that the Drogbar only regained their freedom at the end of the War of the Ancients, when Chieftain Huln—the man standing before him—led the Tauren and the Drogbar resistance to banish Deathwing using a Pillar of Creation: the Hammer of Khaz'goroth.
Chieftain Jarl of the Rivermane clan was a Tauren who looked quite refined. He wore a robe adorned with bird feathers and held a gnarled wooden staff.
The Shaman Chieftain frowned at Andreas and asked, "Mr. Moonshadow, what exactly are you trying to say? I have many wounded waiting for my treatment."
"If you're still trying to incite us to send troops, I advise you to give up early. The Rivermane tribe will not abandon their injured kin to fight a war that doesn't belong to us."
Andreas waved his hand. "Don't be so absolute. Let me ask you all a question first."
"If the threat of the Black Dragons in your rear were removed, would you be willing to contribute to the safety of Azeroth?"
"Of course we would!" Chieftain Paite of the Bloodtotem stood up and thumped his chest heavily. "As long as there is an honorable war, the Bloodtotem will surely lead the charge!"
Jarl countered with a cold sneer, "Even if it means your entire clan is wiped out? Chieftain Paite, you should consider your people more."
"My words are the extension of my clan's will! Do you think everyone is as cowardly as your Rivermane?"
"You—!"
"Stop, stop, stop!" Andreas stopped their bickering with a wry smile. "Chieftains, arguing does nothing to resolve your differences. Please, both of you, calm down."
Glancing at the two huffing Chieftains, Andreas spoke calmly, "I didn't ask this to stir up conflict between you. I want to help you solve your greatest worry."
Huln Highmountain rubbed the braided beard on his chin in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
Andreas gave a mysterious smile. "It's a secret for now. I'll make further adjustments depending on the situation. First, I'm going to scout Neltharion's lair before making a final decision."
...
Although Andreas couldn't claim to remember every major event in Warcraft history, Neltharion's fall was legendary. The culprit was N'Zoth, lurking in the shadows and fanning the flames.
As the Aspect of Earth, Neltharion's power originated from the depths of the world, making him more susceptible than the other four Aspects to the dark presence buried deep beneath Azeroth—the Old Gods.
The example of Loken, the King of Wisdom, proved one thing: even a Titan Keeper could not withstand the long-term temptation and corruption of an Old God. Once a crack appeared in one's heart, the Old Gods, masters of manipulation, would seize the opportunity to magnify human flaws without limit.
Andreas didn't know what the specific flaw in Neltharion's heart was, but the fact that he was corrupted and controlled by N'Zoth was indisputable. This also explained why other Black Dragons instinctively avoided Neltharion's lair; they could sense that something foul resided within.
Guided by the Tauren, Andreas easily found the entrance to Neltharion's Lair in the vastness of Highmountain. If he remembered correctly, one of the Pillars of Creation was hidden somewhere inside this lair. Considering Neltharion's future fate, Andreas decided to search the cave first to see if he could unseal the Holy Hammer and use it to drive away the Black Dragons of Highmountain.
Entering the lair wasn't difficult, but accurately finding the sealing location of the Hammer of Khaz'goroth in this labyrinthine cave was no easy task.
As Andreas flew into the cave and shifted back to human form, several dull-looking, stone-skinned creatures turned their gazes toward him in unison.
"*^%!"
Unintelligible words came from the mouths of these ugly beings. Andreas surmised that these fierce-looking fellows must be the enslaved Drogbar.
Andreas scratched his head and looked at the Drogbar, who showed no signs of aggression, and asked, "Does anyone among you speak Kal'dorei?"
"I do."
A relatively short Drogbar stepped forward. In broken Kal'dorei, he asked, "You... who are you? Why... come here?"
The current world-dominant Kal'dorei language originated from Titan-speak, so it wasn't surprising that some Drogbar who had contact with the outside world would learn a rudimentary form of it.
"Great, you're the one." Andreas approached the other with a friendly attitude. "There should be a Holy Hammer hidden in this lair. Do you, or your people, know where it is hidden?"