The aqir were forced to retreat before they could launch a proper siege on the sacred mountains of Zandalar. Kith'ix, grievously wounded by the loa's assault, fled northeast with a contingent of his nearest aqiri followers. There, they hid among the dense forests and ancient stone crevices, planning to recover their strength while allowing the insectoids to continue their war against the trolls.
Though victory had been claimed, the Zandalari knew their enemy had not truly been defeated. The aqir were a threat that could not be allowed to regrow. If even one colony escaped underground, they would rebuild their empire from the roots, and war would begin anew. At the Zandalari's command, the other tribes moved to hunt the aqir into their deepest burrows. The trolls quickly realized that killing the insects was not enough. They had to destroy the nests, burn the eggs, and seal every crevice that could become a gateway to resurgence.
To end the threat permanently, no corner of the continent could be left unguarded. The Zandalari persuaded the most power-hungry troll factions to build new fortresses across Azeroth. Chief among these were the Amani, Gurubashi, and Drakkari. After defeating the aqir, they would earn the right to claim the fertile lands for themselves, without competition from other tribes.
The ambitious tribes eagerly accepted the offer. The Drakkari surged into the frigid north, battling aqir colonies hidden beneath snow and stone. But they faced a weapon they had never anticipated: corrupted tol'vir. A small group of Titan-forged who had lived outside Ulduar had been captured and enslaved by the aqir. These savage stone tol'vir, known as "obsidian destroyers," nearly crushed the Drakkari in a single massive assault. Yet years of warfare had shaped the tribe into cunning and resilient fighters. They devised brilliant methods to topple and destroy their enemies, using ice traps, poisons, and blood magic inherited from the northern loa.
The Gurubashi also encountered Titan-forged who had fallen into darkness. These trolls had journeyed southwest, where the aqir had invaded Ahn'Qiraj—the prison complex housing the Old God C'Thun. After infiltrating the fortress, the insectoids enslaved the mighty Anubisath giants who guarded the prison. The initial battle between the Gurubashi and the aqir proved disastrous. The insectoids and their Anubisath enforcers slaughtered several major Gurubashi encampments, wiping out entire generations of warriors in a single night.
Afterward, the Zandalari instructed Gurubashi priests to break their tribe into smaller, more agile raiding parties instead of large, easily targeted armies. This new tactic allowed them to harass the aqir continuously, draining the insectoid forces over years of attrition. Though they never fully exterminated the aqir, the Gurubashi eventually secured full control over the surrounding territory and built fortresses that would become centers of culture and spiritual power.
Meanwhile, the Amani prepared to destroy Kith'ix directly. They tracked the C'Thrax's trail into the northeastern forests, cutting through countless aqiri sentries. In a final, brutal assault, the entire tribe launched a suicidal attack against Kith'ix and the remnants of his swarm. Only a small fraction of the troll force survived. Nevertheless, the C'Thrax fell to his relentless hunters. His colossal body collapsed in the heart of the forest, and the land around it turned black for centuries.
Though the cost was immense, the Amani's fearsome reputation became legend among the other tribes. At the site where they slew Kith'ix, the trolls built a new settlement. That settlement would one day grow into the sprawling temple-city known as Zul'Aman, where Amani priests preserved war relics and taught new generations about sacrifice and valor.
With the departure of the C'Thrax, the aqir no longer fought with fury or purpose. The war between trolls and aqir changed dramatically. The extermination of the aqir became the trolls' new imperative. They no longer fought to survive, but to ensure the threat would never return.
After centuries of brutal conflict, the trolls shattered the aqir empire, which had housed the insectoids in the far north and south of the continent. Central Kalimondor was cleansed of their presence forever. The surviving aqir fortified their underground colonies to resist further troll aggression. They no longer sought war. In time, the trolls declared themselves victorious.
Yet from the ruins of the aqir empire, three distinct cultures would emerge. The insectoids in the north gathered near the underground prison of Togg-Saron. Due to their proximity to the Old God, these aqir gradually evolved into a race known as the nerubians. Their kingdom would be called Azjol-Nerub, a place where shadow magic and organic architecture flourished.
The aqir in the southwest made Ahn'Qiraj—the conquered prison complex of C'Thun—their home. The presence of the grotesque Old God slowly corrupted their bodies and minds. Over time, the aqir formed a new race known as the qiraji, creatures who lived to serve C'Thun's will and expand his influence to the surface.
The aqir in the southeast gathered where the essence of T'Shaarj still tainted the land. These insects eventually transformed into a race known as the mantid. Even before the aqir empire collapsed, they had established the massive colony of Manti'vess near the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, where blood magic and wild will merged into one.
Without war to bind them, the troll factions grew increasingly distant and isolated. Their scattered strongholds evolved into vibrant homes, temple-cities, and eventually into kingdoms of their own. Though they often clashed with the elves, Dwemer, and Dúnedain, no great war erupted. Conflicts remained local, limited to borders and resource disputes.
The Zandalari withdrew to their mountain highlands to pursue spiritual knowledge, deepen their connection to the loa, and study the world's history through stargazing and leyline currents. Though they rarely engaged directly in conflict, their influence remained profound across the diverse troll societies. They became stewards of heritage, guardians of tradition, and spiritual guides for the entire troll race.
In the final stage of the war with the trolls, a remaining pocket of aqir gathered at the southern edge of Kalimdor. Beneath the roots of towering kypari trees—like pillars of the world—they founded a new kingdom, hidden from the eyes of their conquerors. These insectoids, who would later be known as the mantid, saw no purpose in continuing a battle they knew they could never win. They chose to endure—not out of weakness, but from a clear understanding of their limits.
Such restraint was rare among insects, who typically obeyed instincts of aggression and reproduction. Yet the reasoning of the mantid had surpassed instinct. They remained devout in their worship of the Old Gods, believing that the ancient rulers would one day rise from their prisons and reclaim dominion over Azeroth. To them, the best way to serve these divine entities was not to squander their strength in futile war, but to preserve it, refine it, and sharpen it into an undeniable weapon. The mantid would grow stronger without endangering their survival.
Though a revered empress oversaw daily affairs and regulated the colony's biological rhythm, true power lay in the hands of an older, wiser group. This group called themselves the Klaxxi—meaning "priests" in their now nearly extinct native tongue. The Klaxxi not only guided the empress, but steered the entire mantid race toward a greater purpose: the preservation of strength and readiness for the Old Gods' return. Rather than seek vengeance against the trolls, the Klaxxi turned their attention to a closer, more relevant threat.
In the neighboring region stood the mogu—mighty giants forged by the hands of the Titans. They had guarded the Vale of Eternal Blossoms for centuries, protectors of a legacy they did not fully understand. The mantid, drawn by the mysterious resonance of the vale, began to approach. At first, they did not realize that the pull came from the presence of Y'Shaarj, the slain Old God. His festering, hate-filled heart had been sealed beneath the vale by the High Keeper Ra, and its essence still seeped into the land.
In an attempt to touch the dark power hidden beneath the vale, the mantid launched a sudden assault on the mogu. But the Titan-forged defenders held firm and drove the swarm back to the kypari forests. The Klaxxi did not see this defeat as failure. Instead, they viewed it as a process of refinement. The surviving warriors had matured, grown stronger, and more cunning. The Klaxxi waited patiently for a hundred years before launching the next attack. They sent a new generation of young mantid to encircle the vale's guardians. Again, only the strongest returned.
Thus began the mantid cycle. Every century, a new swarm was sent to war against the mogu. Fierce battles separated the weak from the swarm, and only the strongest returned to the kypari trees to continue the bloodline. In just a few cycles, mantid civilization had transformed into a rigid and honed society, wholly focused on the eradication of weakness and the empowerment of absolute strength. They no longer fought for victory, but for purification.
Yet this transformation did not go unnoticed. The Maestro—an observing entity unbound by race or territory—marked the change with concern. They launched a campaign into Manti'vess, the mantid seat of power, to ensure that the brutal cycle would not repeat unchecked.
The attack came at an inopportune time for the mantid. It would take decades before the next generation of warriors hatched. Their numbers were few, while the mogu remained plentiful and well-armed. At first, the Titan-forged crushed the insect lines, even the strongest survivors of previous cycles. But one mantid emerged from the devastation to turn the tide. His name was Korven.
Armed with a blade forged from kypari amber, Korven cut through the mogu ranks with precision and power never before witnessed. He thwarted their assault and forced them back to the vale's edge. Korven's skill was so extraordinary that many mantid believed he had outwitted death itself. He did not merely survive—he transcended the biological limits of his race.
The Klaxxi elders declared Korven a "Paragon," the highest title a mantid warrior could receive. They vowed that his deeds would become legend, passed down through generations. But Korven was not satisfied. He knew his emergence at the critical moment was mere chance. He refused to let his race's survival depend on luck or fate. He demanded a system that could guarantee the continuity of their strength.
The Klaxxi agreed and tasked him with finding a solution. After years of experimenting with kypari resin, Korven discovered that living beings could be preserved within amber cocoons—potentially for thousands of years. If the Klaxxi placed their greatest warriors in these cocoons, they could be awakened whenever needed to prevent catastrophe or confront unforeseen threats.
Korven became the first to undergo preservation. To honor his service, the Klaxxi named him "Korven the Prime," the first of many Paragons to come. As he lay undisturbed in his amber tomb, the grand cycle he had nearly single-handedly saved continued unbroken, generation after generation. He did not die. He waited.
15,000 Years Before the Dark Portal
Though the High Keeper Ra had not been seen for thousands of years, the mogu who remained loyal to him continued to guard the Vale of Eternal Blossoms with near-fanatical resolve. They stood as the final bulwark against the mantid swarms that came in endless cycles. Their belief that the high keeper would one day return endured through hardship after hardship, generation after generation.
But that belief began to crumble when the Curse of Flesh finally reached the ranks of the mogu.
For the first time, the mogu faced death. Their once-immortal bodies began to rot, and fear—an emotion previously foreign to them—took root. Uncertainty blanketed the vale. Minor disputes that had once been quelled by Ra's power now escalated into open conflict, violence, and bloodshed. The once-unified mogu began to fracture. Clans and warlords emerged, each claiming rights to the vale and Ra's legacy. The struggle for power became brutal and unending. Those who triumphed were quickly overthrown by even crueler rivals. Amid the chaos, their culture and language—even their purpose and identity as a Titan-forged race—began to erode.
This dark period would later be known as the Age of a Hundred Kings, a time when the mogu nearly destroyed themselves from within. No ruler lasted long. No vision could unite them. Only their most primal instincts kept them from total annihilation. At the start of each mantid assault cycle, the mogu's internal strife would subside. The clans, though reluctant, would unite to face the external threat. But once the swarm retreated, their internal hostilities would reignite—hotter than before.
While the mogu were busy fighting the mantid and tearing each other apart, new races began to emerge in the region. Many of these beings were drawn to the latent power radiating from the Vale of Eternal Blossoms—a primordial resonance emanating from the heart of Y'Shaarj, sealed underground. Among these wondrous new races were the jinyu, mystical fish-like creatures who dwelled in rivers and lakes, able to hear whispers of the future through the currents. The bold and mischievous monkey-like hozen also came to inhabit the dense forests surrounding much of the vale. But the most intelligent and philosophical of these newcomers were the pandaren.
The emergence of so much life around the vale drew the attention of four Wild Gods. Their names were Xuen, the White Tiger; Yu'lon, the Jade Serpent; Chi-Ji, the Red Crane; and Niuzao, the Black Ox. These were semi-divine entities born of nature's will and Azeroth's primordial power. Xuen and the other Wild Gods gathered in the vale to observe and guide the many living beings who had settled there. Though the mogu's warlike behavior often disturbed them, the Wild Gods took joy in watching the other races flourish and shape their own cultures.
In particular, Xuen and the other gods formed a close bond with the pandaren, largely because of their love for peace, balance, and inner reflection. The pandaren viewed the Wild Gods—whom they called the "Great Celestials"—as kind and wise deities. They created a system of worship devoted to these extraordinary beings, not as absolute rulers, but as spiritual guides. In return, the Wild Gods bestowed knowledge upon the pandaren, nurturing their connection to philosophy, nature, and martial arts rooted in harmony between body and soul.
At the command of the Great Celestials, the pandaren built a culture that upheld peace and harmony with the surrounding world. They constructed temples, meditation gardens, and schools of philosophy scattered throughout the vale. Amid the mogu's chaos and the mantid threat, the pandaren grew into a symbol of serenity and spiritual resilience.
But that serenity would not last.
Soon, a new mogu leader would rise from the ashes of the Age of a Hundred Kings. His name was Lei Shen. He not only rejected the Celestials' philosophies, but saw them as weaknesses to be eradicated. Lei Shen did not seek balance. He sought domination. The power he built threatened not only the human race and the newcomers to the vale, but the Great Celestials themselves.