After listening to Master Zhi's account, Syrenne pondered for a brief moment. Long before the battle had even concluded, the High Command had already received full video recordings of the entire engagement. The bloody conflict between the Pandaren and the Mogu had been completely documented to serve as strategic reference.
As for Lordaeron standing by and watching with cold detachment, that was only natural. The Lordaeron Expeditionary Force was newly arrived, after all, and it would be highly inappropriate to meddle blindly in the local biological conflicts of a sovereign continent. Had the natives not been thoroughly beaten and broken, they would never offer massive concessions and major interests to win over an outside force like Lordaeron.
The defeat of the Pandaren was entirely within expectations. In modern warfare, the existence of a single, exceptionally powerful entity is absolutely vital. Such a figure acts as a foundational anchor—a stabilizing pillar to secure military morale and strike terror into the enemy.
The Burning Legion has Sargeras, the ancient Kaldorei Empire had Queen Azshara, and the Mogu have the Thunder King, Lei Shen.
As for the Pandaren? They have nothing. Their last emperor, Shaohao, is currently nothing more than a mere remnant soul lingering on the Timeless Isle, stripped of all practical meaning and deterrent capability.
In the absence of an exceptionally powerful martial champion, everything devolves into a struggle of mortal flesh, making heavy casualties completely unavoidable. Even if the four August Celestials fought Lei Shen, they could barely manage a stalemate at best; achieving a true victory over him was a flat impossibility.
The armies beneath them simply weren't strong enough. Had Taran Zhu not desperately taken down Weaponmaster Xin, the Pandaren coalition would likely have faced an immediate, total rout. Even so, once the Mogu inevitably infuse more champions into their ranks and couple them with the aid of the Zandalari Trolls, the Pandaren will definitely fail to hold against another massive surge.
Discrepancies in individual martial power are exceptionally difficult to bridge. Furthermore, even after tens of thousands of years, the technology of the Mogu still leaves the Pandaren far behind. One can only blame the Pandaren for failing to develop any relevant technology of their own; had they possessed a shred of enterprise, they wouldn't still be bound to ancient agrarian ways. To be backward is to invite a beating—do not ask why you are being thrashed; it is simply because you cannot win the fight.
"His Majesty has gone to the Stormstout Brewery. If you hurry over now, you should still be able to catch him. Without explicit authorization and direction from His Majesty, the Vanguard will only garrison its territory and will not launch an offensive on its own."
Syrenne, for one, was quite interested in testing her mettle against those Mogu armies. In any case, others were handling the situation over in Vashj'ir. When the time came, they merely needed to suppress the Water Lord and his minions within the Abyssal Maw. Once the Master went down to execute him, they could select a new lackey to inherit the title of the Water Lord, thereby ensuring the great seas truly belonged to the Naga.
Neptulon's undoing was entirely his own fault for harboring covetous desires toward Azshara. Clearly living on entirely different levels, he had actually wanted Azshara to become his consort. This wasn't just kicking a steel plate—it was a head-on collision driven by a death wish.
Master Zhi felt utterly helpless, yet a sliver of hope remained in his heart. Based on current intelligence, this King of Lordaeron seemed exceptionally curious about everything regarding the Pandaren, maintaining a benign and friendly attitude. Securing a cooperation might not be an impossible task after all.
"Our thanks for informing us. We shall take our leave now."
The winds of the Valley of the Four Winds always carried the fragrance of rice and brewed ale. Chen Stormstout took a deep breath, his thick, heavy paws stepping along the bluestone path with a steady, resonant cadence. After being away from Azeroth for so many years, he had finally followed the calling of his lineage back to Pandaria, all thanks to Lordaeron's assistance.
This beautiful land where the Pandaren had resided for generations was his current destination: the Stormstout Brewery, a family legacy spanning a century. It was a sacred ground he had heard of countless times from his elders—the very root of the Stormstout name.
Following the winding river valley forward, the silhouette of the brewery gradually grew distinct in the distance. The wooden facility was built against the mountainside, its roofs covered in overlapping layers of thatch. Several massive casks sculpted in stone stood before the main gates. However, the plaque that should have proudly displayed "Stormstout Brewery" hung askew on one side, its lacquer peeling and marred by several deep claw marks.
The fragrance of ale in the air was interlaced with a pungent, rancid stench of mold and musk. Chen's brow gradually furrowed; his years of adventuring intuition told him that something was terribly wrong here.
He quickened his pace, his characteristically tipsy stride taking on a layer of gravity. Drawing near the brewery gates, he found the tightly shut wooden doors had already been smashed to splinters, with several tufts of coarse gray animal fur embedded amidst the scattered wood debris. Harsh screeches, the crisp snapping of shattered pottery, and a strange bubbling gurgle echoed from within the facility, entirely shattering the tranquility that should have reigned here.
Chen gripped his brewmaster staff tightly, the copper rings at its head clinking softly. Taking a deep breath, he stooped down and slipped into the facility.
The scene before him caused Chen's heart to sink to the absolute bottom. The once-immaculate brewing workshop was a total wreck; massive fermentation vats had been overturned, allowing amber barley ale to course across the floor, pooling into shallow puddles in the corners.
Dozens of diminutive Hozen covered in coarse gray fur were running rampant across the workshop. Clutching stolen jars of liquor, they guzzled and smashed blindly, with some even scaling the storage racks to hurl clusters of yeast into the air.
Over on the eastern sector's grain storage area, a pack of long-limbed, rabbit-headed Virmen were frantically devouring towering mounds of polished rice and barley. Their powerful hind legs allowed them to bound away from flying shards of pottery, sharp bamboo daggers tucked into their waistbands, their eyes overflowing with avarice.
Meanwhile, near the ventilation shafts closest to the river valley, a few Jinyu clad in iridescent scales and possessing humanoid torsos with fish tails stood amidst the accumulation of water. Their scales cast a cold sheen under the dim light as they gripped spears embedded with azure gems, periodically puncturing the nearby casks to channel the barley ale into the vents, seemingly reshaping the environment to suit their needs.
"Those bastards!" Chen muttered under his breath, a surge of fury instantly mounting in his chest.
The Stormstout Brewery was not merely a family inheritance; it was the livelihood of countless Pandaren across the Valley of the Four Winds. These invaders were destroying it with absolute, brazen lack of restraint.
With a sudden swing of his brewmaster staff, the heavy head crashed squarely against a Hozen that was guzzling from a jar. The creature let out a wretched shriek, flying through the air like a kite with a broken string before slamming into the wall and blacking out.
The sudden assault caused the invaders within the workshop to fall instantly silent, all eyes locking onto Chen.
A Hozen significantly larger than the rest, donning a tattered straw hat upon its head, leapt down from a liquor rack. It thumped its chest and unleashed a series of bizarre croaks, prompting the surrounding Hozen to swarm forward immediately, forming a loose encirclement.
The Virmen stopped their feeding as well, turning around in unison as their bamboo daggers flashed with a cold light.
The Jinyu retreated half a step, aiming their spears squarely at Chen as a low incantation rumbled from their throats, seemingly preparing a spell.
Had they united to launch an organized, premeditated invasion of the brewery?
Chen harbored zero fear. Splitting his feet, he assumed the defensive stance of a Brewmaster monk, his staff spinning slowly before him.
"Get out of here," his voice was deep and commanding. "This is not a place where you belong."
The leading Hozen seemed to comprehend his words; it shrieked in fury and waved its arm violently. Several Hozen immediately howled and pounced forward, hurling rocks and broken timber blindly at Chen. Chen evaded them with light, agile steps, his staff striking each charging Hozen with pinpoint precision, repelling them one by one.
Seeing this, the Virmen bounded forward to launch their own assault, their speed exceptionally rapid as their bamboo daggers traced cold arcs through the air.
Despite working as a chef in Lordaeron for a time, Chen had previously traveled across the continent of Kalimdor; fierce and brutal battles were nothing new to him. Relying on his years of combat experience, he barely managed to cope with the two-front pincers. His brewmaster staff spun into an airtight barrier that blocked the vast majority of the strikes, though his arms were occasionally nicked by the Virmen's daggers, leaving shallow trails of blood.
Right at that moment, the Jinyu near the vents launched their attack. Several water bolts materialized out of thin air, whistling through the room toward Chen.
Chen ducked and rolled aside; a water bolt grazed his shoulder and smashed into a cask behind him, causing it to burst instantly as barley ale erupted outward. He knew he could no longer remain on passive defense; he had to launch a proactive offensive. Taking a deep breath, the Chi within his body began to channel smoothly, casting a faint golden glow over his staff.
He lunged violently toward the leading Hozen, the head of his staff smashing heavily against its chest. The leader unleashed a piercing shriek and collapsed limply to the floor, entirely motionless. Upon closer inspection, its skull had been completely shattered, its brain inside reduced to absolute mush by the raw vibration!
The death of the lead Hozen failed to deter the other invaders; instead, it triggered their primal ferocity. More Hozen and Virmen swarmed forward, while the Jinyu continuously unleashed water bolts and icicles, compressing Chen's operational space step by step.
Chen's breathing grew increasingly ragged, fine beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead as more wounds accumulated on his body, his Chi steadily draining away. Seasoned monk though he was, facing such massive numbers of well-coordinated invaders left him gradually overwhelmed.
He evaded the incoming strikes while searching for an opening to break through, intent on sealing the ventilation shafts to halt the entry of more Jinyu.
Yet the Virmen seemed to read his intentions, completely blocking the vicinity of the vents as their bamboo daggers formed an impenetrable mesh.
Chen attempted to break through several times, only to be forced back by brute force, adding more wounds to his frame.
Just as he was on the verge of collapsing, a massive detonation echoed from the depths of the workshop. Immediately following it, a violent, raging aroma of alcohol rushed over them, causing the entire facility to shudder slightly.
Chen's heart sank; he knew exactly what that meant. According to family records, the subterranean cellars of the brewery housed century-old vintages. If an error occurred during the brewing process or if external forces interfered, a volatile Alemental could manifest.
The volatile energy contained within this wave of alcohol was precisely the signature of a raging Alemental.
Sure enough, at the cellar entrance at the far end of the workshop, an orange figure charged out violently. It was a humanoid entity composed entirely of pure liquid alcohol, standing well over three meters tall, its surface bubbling rapidly. Its eyes were burning liquid fire, and it gripped a massive axe formed of congealed spirits.
It unleashed an earth-shattering roar, a single swing of its axe cleaving a nearby liquor rack clean in half.
The manifestation of the raging Alemental threw the invaders into total panic, and they scattered frantically to evade the monster's attacks.
Yet the Alemental seemed to harbor absolute hostility toward all living things. Brandishing its massive axe, it pursued and cut down the Hozen and Virmen alike. Every swing of its axe was accompanied by a violent explosion; liquid splattered everywhere, and any creature touched by it was instantly ignited by the liquid fire, unleashing agonizing wails.
The Jinyu attempted to utilize water magic to combat the Alemental, but when the water bolts struck its form, they failed to inflict damage, instead causing its mass to expand further.
Seeing this, Chen knew he could no longer afford to delay. If the raging Alemental were allowed to run amok, the entire brewery would be thoroughly obliterated. Forcing his exhausted frame into motion, he gripped his staff and charged toward the entity.
Leaping into the air, his brewmaster staff carried golden Chi as it crashed heavily upon the Alemental's head. The Alemental unleashed a furious roar, its torso shuddering violently; the sheer feedback sent Chen flying backward to crash heavily onto the floor, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
"Cough, cough."
Chen struggled to scramble back up, but his entire body was wracked with absolute exhaustion, his Chi virtually depleted. The Alemental spun around, its burning eyes locking onto him as it advanced step by step.
At this critical juncture, a crisp shout echoed from outside the workshop. "Uncle! I'm here to help you!"
Chen looked up to see a young Pandaren girl clad in pink garments, her hair tied in twin tails, charging in atop a Dragonhawk—it was none other than his niece, Li Li Stormstout.
Li Li leapt down from the Dragonhawk's back, gripping a pair of fist weapons, a green Chi swirling about her as she charged toward the raging Alemental. Her movements were exceptionally light and agile; her fist weapons carried a continuously flowing Chi of nature as they struck heavily against the Alemental's knee.
Being the consort of a deity carried its advantages; while she had not yet attained the status of a demigod, dealing with ordinary creatures was far more than sufficient.
The Alemental buckled in pain, its knee bending as its torso sank slightly. Seizing the opening, Li Li vaulted into the air and drove both fists violently into its chest.
Simultaneously, a tall figure stepped slowly into the workshop entrance. The man wore dark armor covered in a thin layer of natural energy, gripping a viciously styled runeblade that radiated a chilling frost.
His countenance was handsome yet deathly pale, his gaze completely frigid—it was the King of Lordaeron, Arthas.
Seeing Arthas, Chen's eyes overflowed with absolute astonishment. He had never expected Li Li to arrive in the company of Arthas.
Seeming to read Chen's bewilderment, Li Li shouted loudly while continuously maneuvering around the Alemental:
"Uncle, we came here to travel! We're heading to the Crane Temple in the Krasarang Wilds and just stopped by to take a look. Looks like you need some help! Don't worry, I've got your back. As a member of the Stormstout family, I'll do my absolute part!"
She had no desire to involve herself deeply in local affairs, but doing her part was simply fulfilling her duty. She held very little concept of a homeland, and given the events of that fateful night, her path was firmly set alongside Arthas. A woman must eventually marry; a wedded daughter is like water splashed out.
Arthas remained silent. He slowly raised his runeblade, the frost radiating from the edge growing increasingly dense. A few Hozen attempting a flank attack had barely drawn near before they were frozen solid into ice blocks by the sheer chill, shattering into countless tiny shards.
Seeing this, the Jinyu unleashed water bolts and icicles to attack Arthas, but these strikes were completely laughably ineffective against his armor, getting deflected away entirely.
Somehow, the deflected icicles suddenly broke free from their casters' control, reversing direction to pierce straight through the Jinyu instead!
With icicles still embedded in their skulls, the dead-fish eyes of these Jinyu were completely filled with utter disbelief—how could their own spells have spun entirely out of control?
Azshara stepped slowly into the room in her high heels. Immaculate and noble as always, her presence naturally compelled one to bow in reverence. With spell light flickering across her fingers, it was clear that stripping others of their magical control was entirely her doing.