A familiar face, but a strange feeling.
This was Tyrande's impression of the "familiar stranger" standing before her. Familiar, because they had grown up together, and he used to follow her everywhere—they knew each other as well as anyone could. Strange, because of the energy fluctuations emanating from him that she had never felt before: the chaotic scent of Fel.
"Illidan, you..."
"Ah!"
Before a conflicted Tyrande could find the words, a tragic scream from the side interrupted their "touching" reunion.
Andreas dissatisfiedly flicked his scimitar. The balance of the Blade of the Black Empire didn't quite suit him. A member of the Queen's Guard collapsed before him, blood spraying from a severed neck.
"Psychic Scream!"
Profound Shadow energy erupted from Andreas, who was deep within the enemy formation. Most guards within a 20-meter radius clutched their heads and screamed in terror, while only a few with stronger mental fortitude groaned in pain, struggling to break free from the spell's control.
Taking the opportunity to harvest a few nearby enemies with his blade, Andreas shouted an irritated warning: "What are you staring at? Do you want to die reminiscing on a battlefield?"
Illidan's instant kill of the unsuspecting Varo'then was indeed a great feat, but after his success, this "hero" was actually standing there in a daze, smiling foolishly at Tyrande. They were currently surrounded by over a hundred elite guards.
Broxigar and Rhonin didn't understand the complex emotional entanglements between Illidan, Malfurion, and Tyrande, nor did they have any interest in learning. Hearing Andreas's shout, they were the first to snap back to reality. Rhonin immediately began high-speed chanting to prepare a spell, much like Krasus.
Broxigar let out a roar, swung his oaken war axe, and leaped into the enemy ranks, his two-handed axe striking with broad, sweeping motions. To seek a glorious death, this old orc had long discarded the fear of dying; his only concern was whether his death would have value.
With a suicidal momentum, Broxigar's aggressive strikes suppressed the nearby guards, and magical support from Rhonin and Krasus arrived shortly after.
"Arcane Barrage."
Ethereal blue arcane bolts spiraled into the enemy formation, but they were blocked by a magical defense barrier deployed by the guards after their deputy captain quickly took command. The consecutive bombardments from Krasus and Rhonin did not achieve the expected effect.
As Queen Azshara's personal guard, though they were briefly thrown into chaos by their leader's death, they were the elite of the elite. Once someone took command, the guards quickly regained their practiced combat rhythm.
In the Night Elven Empire, where Arcane civilization was exceptionally advanced, Queen Azshara's primary concern wasn't the low-level "warrior" commoners, or even the rising Druids, but rather the Highborne nobles who might one day rebel.
The equipment and defensive focus of the guard were very clear: most of it was tailored to counter mages. If Andreas guessed correctly, the Queen's Guard was likely the original template for the Spellbreakers of Quel'Thalas in later generations. Not only was their equipment and magical training highly specialized, but the members selected were also gifted Spellblades, possessing both physical and magical talent. Every single member of the guard, if placed in a regular unit, would at least hold the rank of Captain.
Stung by Andreas's sharp rebuke, Malfurion finally woke up from his daze. He cast a deep look at his younger brother, then silently crouched down amidst a flash of light, transforming into a massive, thick-furred bear.
Andreas took a moment to look at Malfurion's Great Bear form, and the sight of that entirely green fur made his mouth twitch violently.
Why is it green... I've never seen a green-skinned bear before.
The Stormrage brothers seemed to have a peculiar fondness for the color green. While the older brother Malfurion charged into the formation as a howling green bear, Illidan activated the Fel runes on his body, his emerald Twin Blades of Azzinoth carving lethal trails of green light across the battlefield.
Seeing a "Bear Tank" charging in to draw fire, Andreas was happy to take it easy and stepped back. On his way out of the main fray, the Blade of the Black Empire in his hand swung in a semi-autonomous state, tracing a bizarre arc through the air to split the skull of another unlucky guard.
The shattered soul was sucked into the blade and devoured by Xal'atath. Having feasted on "delicacies" recently, the Old God remnant even mimicked the sound of a satisfied burp.
"Burp~ As expected, Night Elven souls taste much better than demons. Ptui! That sulfur smell is truly disgusting."
Andreas rolled his eyes. Waving his staff, several thick vines sprouted from the ground, lashing and binding the guards, throwing their neat formation into disarray.
"You're lucky to have anything to eat at all, quit being picky. Also... can you change the shape of the blade? This scimitar is too hard for a beginner to use."
"Certainly. What kind of weapon do you want?"
"A one-handed straight sword or a slightly curved longblade. Just don't make it anything weird or grotesque."
Under Andreas's communication, Xal'atath cooperated by straightening the scimitar's blade into a one-handed weapon resembling a saber. The only thing that remained unchanged was the prominent, creepy purple eyeball at the hilt.
"That's much better!"
Malfurion couldn't block all the guards alone. In this strike team, aside from Illidan and Broxigar, only Andreas, who was also a Druid, could handle some frontline duties.
Swinging with an unrefined, haphazard style, Andreas relied on the powerful Shadow energy attached to the Blade of the Black Empire. Not a single guard could cleanly parry two of his strikes. On the first clash, Andreas would let the Shadow energy corrode the opponent's mind, then deliver a lethal blow the moment the enemy lost focus.
However, Andreas was not a professionally trained warrior. The Blade of the Black Empire served only as a temporary emergency tool for his humanoid form.
"Come! Collapsing Star!"
With his spell prepared, Andreas slammed his staff onto the ground. A small black sphere appeared in the center of the guard's formation. As the sphere expanded, its powerful suction forced nearby guards toward it.
"Burst!"
With Andreas's low shout, the black sphere suddenly expanded sharply. A 10-meter radius was completely cleared after a flash of dark purple light. Not even a trace of blood remained; the guards within range vanished as if erased from the world by an eraser.
After Andreas used his large-scale spell to clear the area, the tide of the battle turned decisively. Although the elite guards had suffered heavy losses and didn't collapse entirely, their morale inevitably plummeted.
Every member of the strike team was a powerhouse capable of taking on a hundred men. After their initial awkward coordination, the team gradually formed a degree of synergy. With Malfurion as the arrowhead, Illidan and Broxigar on the flanks, and the casters including Tyrande providing artillery from the rear, supplemented by Andreas's mobile skirmishing, the strike team finally broke through the guards' failing defense and successfully stormed the palace.
The moment they entered the palace gates, Andreas turned and fired a Shadow Ray from his staff, striking the stone lintel. The collapsing gate blocked the guards' pursuit.
Withdrawing his staff, Andreas took a deep breath. "Follow me. Try not to alert Queen Azshara; we'll bypass the main court and head directly for the Well of Eternity."