As he dashed through the palace, Andreas felt immensely grateful that Azshara's palace was so vast, with the outer courts situated far from the core areas.
He was certain that Azshara knew about the battle that had just occurred, but at least for now, the strike team had not encountered any resistance from the armed handmaidens dispatched by the Queen.
As they entered the vicinity of the side hall where the Well of Eternity was located, they reached an area Andreas was no longer familiar with. Illidan silently swapped positions to take the lead; the previous look of dissatisfaction and estrangement in Tyrande's eyes had deeply hurt him.
"I'll lead the way. Hurry, there's very little time left before Sargeras arrives."
Andreas watched with a gossiping eye as the three childhood friends interacted with the awkwardness of strangers, but he refrained from asking any ill-timed questions in such a tense moment.
Xal'atath, however, was not as reserved as Andreas. It mocked him inside his mind without restraint: "Ha~ A mixture of jealousy and dejection. It seems the relationship between these three is quite complicated."
"Shut up and let me concentrate."
"Fine~ You're the master, you call the shots."
In the middle of their sprint, Malfurion suddenly paused. His face changed drastically as he looked toward the battlefield outside the city.
A fierce wind, appearing out of nowhere, swept past, forcing the strike team to temporarily slow their pace. The howling gale whistled through the ornamental trees planted within the palace, a peculiar sound that seemed like the weeping of nature itself.
As a fellow Druid, Andreas also heard the crying in the woods. He turned in surprise to look at the grieving Malfurion.
"Mentor, could this be..."
"Yes." Malfurion sighed sorrowfully. "A Wild God has fallen on the main battlefield. I just don't know who it is."
"Hmph~" Illidan recalled the Demigods who had once treated him with indifference, and a faint, imperceptible cold smile touched the corner of his mouth. "This won't be the last Demigod to fall. With Archimonde overseeing the front lines, even the Wild Gods are nothing more than slightly stronger ants before him."
Seeing the team's morale dip, Andreas countered in a heavy voice, "Don't speak so absolutely. We might not be a match on the transcendent battlefield, but the Burning Legion's regular army is no match for the Allied forces."
"As long as the Demigods are willing to entangle that demon lord without fear of death, our army will be inspired by their desperate struggle to exert 120% of their combat power, buying enough time for our actions."
Illidan spared a contemptuous glance at Andreas. "That is provided our strike mission succeeds and Sargeras does not descend upon Azeroth. Otherwise, everyone's efforts will be in vain."
"Illidan!" Tyrande frowned in displeasure. "Why must you bolster the enemy's resolve while undermining our own? Under the protection of Elune, we will surely complete the arduous task of banishing the Burning Legion."
"Elune, is it... Heh~" Faced with Tyrande, Illidan could not maintain his cold, hard exterior. He said with a bitter smile, "That's because you don't know what I've seen. You don't know the true source of despair within the Burning Legion. I..."
"Let's leave the talk at that for now." Andreas stopped in his tracks, looking solemnly toward the distant sky. "I'm afraid we're in big trouble."
Under the gaze of almost everyone on the battlefield, a Fel-infused metal tip emerged from the portal, which had expanded countless times. Then, a flying warship over 200 meters long slowly sailed out of the rift.
Illidan watched the warship's entry the entire time, his expression turning extremely grim. "This is bad. The portal is now large enough to pass high-mass objects. If these space warships enter in large numbers, the war will undergo an irreversible change."
The Well of Eternity was now right before their eyes. Andreas could even see the Highborne mages from a distance, being urged by demons to continue their non-stop spellcasting. The elegant and proud Highborne no longer showed any of their former glory. Due to excessive mana consumption, they were pale and haggard, looking as though they might collapse from exhaustion at any moment.
In the sky, the dragons were the first to launch an attack on the Fel Cruiser. Scorching, high-temperature dragon breath washed over the ship's surface, quickly heating portions of the metal hull to a glowing red.
However, for a cruiser over 200 meters long, this amount of damage was far from a fatal blow to the hull.
The ship's mounted Fel anti-aircraft cannons opened fire under the captain's command. The dragons were forced to cease their attack and scatter to dodge. Andreas and the others witnessed the dual-mounted main cannons on the ship's deck adjusting their angles, gradually aiming toward the main battlefield.
"We can't wait any longer! Move forward! we must stop the portal from expanding further. If a few more of these ships arrive, all our efforts will turn to dust!"
The demon guards protecting the Well noticed the movements of Andreas and the others. Under the command of a Felguard who stood significantly taller than his peers, they charged toward them.
Malfurion abandoned his usual gentleness. In his Great Bear form, he was the first to crash into the enemy crowd. The death of a Wild God and the appearance of the Fel warship made him no longer able to maintain his usual reverence for life. With the Archdruid going all out, he became a powerful killing machine; his claws were stained green with blood, and even some demon flesh remained at the corners of his mouth.
Tyrande's combat prowess was not strong without "cheating," and the Stormrage brothers were unwilling to let her stand on the dangerous front line. Her suppressing fire and divine spells provided significant support to the team. Rhonin and Krasus stood beside her, chanting and lobbing massive fireballs.
The gradually numbed Highborne saw their resistance. They looked up mechanically toward the place of combat, not quite grasping the situation for a moment.
But not all Highborne were rendered dazed by the day-and-night mana output. Dath'Remar, who had been waiting for a long time, had a sharp glint flash in his eyes.
"Fellow citizens! Your recent experiences should have made you all see the true face of the Burning Legion. Do you still wish to continue following these naturally cruel demons?"
A segment of Highborne who were close to the demons had been selected as overseers. Seeing Dath'Remar openly inciting the crowd, they shouted in alarm and fury.
"Sunstrider! Hold your tongue! Do you wish to betray your own people?"
"The ones who betrayed them are you!" Dath'Remar roared at the sycophants. "The Highborne have always been noble and confident. We never wag our tails to beg for mercy from anyone! Look at your actions now! What is the difference between you and a lapdog clinging shamelessly to its master's leg?"
"You seek death! You're insane! Someone, kill this traitor!"
The enraged overseers immediately shouted, trying to command others to crush Dath'Remar's rebellion. But the Highborne present all stood in a daze, their expressions hesitant. Clearly, Dath'Remar's words had resonated with many.
Seeing this, Dath'Remar's spirit was bolstered. He once again called out in a high-pitched, infectious voice: "Fellow citizens! It is time to stand up and resist the atrocities of the demons!"
"Do you wish to tell your children in the future that the noble Highborne only survived by begging for mercy from so-called 'Divine Envoys'?"
"If not for yourselves, please consider our descendants! The Highborne will never yield to the threats of demons! Join me, and let the world see the true splendor of the descendants of those who once quelled the Troll wars!"