Amanhecer da Luz Sagrada em Azeroth

“Run! Hurry, run! We've been discovered—we're done for!”

“Dick, you traitor who infiltrated our organization! In the name of the Enlightened, prepare to die!”

“Ah!”

The shrill screams, coupled with the graphic, blood-soaked scenes, replayed over and over in the chaos of his mind, just like a tense, thrilling film—an immersive first-person journey through some unfortunate soul’s miserable life. It did look a bit exciting, this spectacle of flesh and gore, but when his awareness returned to his body, the pain that followed was almost unbearable.

The wretch lying on the stretcher snapped his eyes open. Instinctively, he reached out for help, but immediately another hand pressed him down. Amid the tumult, he heard others shouting:

“Keep him quiet! There are still people watching us from behind.”

“His throat's been cut, he can’t make a sound. Don’t worry, those guys think he’s dead. Look at these wounds—even I almost thought he was gone. Move! Get him back; the master is waiting.”

“Alright, I’ll fetch the tabruk sheep. You follow with the stretcher.”

The stretcher jolted again, and some kind of potion was injected into his neck, plunging him into a haze once more.

He blinked repeatedly, struggling to turn his gaze to the side. There, a strange-looking fellow came into view: blue skin, a hairless scalp, odd tendrils on his chin... Wait, this appearance seemed familiar—wasn’t this that guy?

The stretcher-bearer, noticing his gaze, turned and gave an insincere smile.

“Don’t be afraid, ‘Holy Lance’ D