Chapter 330 - Developments

The barrier of Suramar City was personally designed by Queen Azshara, featuring two distinct modes: defense and attack.

Before returning to the rule of the Night Elf Republic, the barrier of Suramar City had difficulty even maintaining its defense due to insufficient energy, let alone the energy-intensive attack mode.

As Andreas' order was issued, Governor Roddick, who was intimately familiar with Suramar, immediately relayed the command downward.

The hemispherical barrier shrouding the city gradually became transparent. Thinking the enemy's energy had been exhausted, the Gargoyles and flying demons swarmed forward with renewed vigor, preparing to rush into the city for a slaughter.

Governor Roddick stood on the city wall and directed loudly, "Arcanists, cast your spells to seal the sky! We must hold back the enemy while the barrier completes its transformation!"

Multicolored energy flickered incessantly above the city. The majority of the Undead and Burning Legion coalition were held back in the air by an endless stream of spells and a rain of arrows, unable to break through.

According to the law of conservation of energy, the energy diverted from Suramar's barrier would inevitably manifest elsewhere.

Varimathras, who remained outside the city to command the battle, suddenly felt his hair stand on end. In his eyes, the seemingly defenseless Suramar City had turned into a dragon's den; terrifying Arcane energy was rapidly gathering and compressing.

Many demons who had rushed into the city also sensed something was wrong. They hurriedly flapped their wings in reverse, attempting to escape the coverage of the translucent barrier above Suramar City.

"Don't even think about escaping!"

A piercing Arcane light flashed in Governor Roddick's eyes. The barrier's mode transformation was complete. As the person controlling the "switch," the old governor seemed to have regained his youth as terrifying Arcane energy radiated from him.

Blue-white energy sparks, like electric arcs, began to flicker simultaneously above the city. The demons and undead struck by these sparks fell from the sky, utterly powerless to resist.

The outer boundary of the barrier shifted from translucent back to a solid state, leaving commanders like Varimathras outside the city completely unable to see the situation within.

A few seconds later, when the purple barrier cleared again, there were no longer any flying objects in the sky above the city, leaving only a sky full of ashes drifting with the wind.

"Re... Retreat!"

As a Dreadlord, Varimathras had a deep understanding of the concept of self-preservation.

Seeing the Night Elf aerial forces, who had been blocking the enemy outside the city, turning their gazes toward him, he immediately took the lead in changing direction and retreated at high speed toward Icecrown Glacier... As the Night Elves launched their full-scale counterattack, the Orc army also entered Dragonblight after receiving temporary permission, heading toward the war front through the tunnel entrance connecting the northwest to Icecrown Glacier.

At this point in time, Icecrown Citadel had not yet begun construction, and the Wrathgate naturally did not exist. Go'el's army crossed the boundary of the snowy plains with almost no resistance, passing through a natural mountain tunnel into the glacier region.

Orgrim had originally thought that Frostfire Ridge, where the Frostwolf Clan used to live, was cold enough. The moment he entered Icecrown Glacier, he realized that living a long life truly does allow one to gain more experience.

If the temperatures of Frostfire Ridge and the Alterac Mountains were roughly minus 15 to 30 degrees, then the extreme cold of Icecrown Glacier was plummeting toward minus 50 degrees.

Fortunately, the Orcs had been warned by the Dragonflight before setting out and had specifically made crude winter coats from the thick fur of northern animals. Otherwise, they might have been frozen until their limbs were weak before the battle even began.

"Hah~" Wrapped in his fur coat, Grom exhaled a puff of white mist, constantly hopping on his toes in small movements.

"It's too cold here. We need to keep moving. It would be best if some enemies appeared so we could warm up through combat."

This typical battle-crazed remark brought a helpless smile to Orgrim's face. "Don't worry, there will be."

Go'el tried to imbue his trembling hands with Fire Elemental energy to ward off the cold, but in this glacier region where Water Elemental energy held the absolute upper hand, his previously effortless elemental calling was slow to take effect.

Studying the simple map provided by the Night Elves, Go'el raised his head, which was covered by a thick fur hat, to observe his surroundings.

"According to the map, the enemy's base should be near that towering Great Ice Mountain. Everyone, stay sharp! We could be attacked by the undead at any moment."

"Enemy attack!"

Just as Go'el finished speaking, an Orc scout on sentry duty suddenly let out a loud warning. "Three o'clock direction, a large number of aerial units approaching!"

The aerial units the Orcs encountered were the defeated troops led by Varimathras. They ignored the Orcs below, who were hurriedly taking cover near the mountain, and landed directly at the glacier camp in front of the Frozen Throne.

Go'el took a deep breath. "It seems we've stumbled upon the enemy's camp by mistake."

Not long after the Scourge and Burning Legion aerial forces returned to camp, another group of aerial units appeared in the Orcs' sight from afar.

These aerial forces were not enemies, but the vanguard of the Night Elves, who were currently acting as allies.

The vanguard led by Leticia was temporarily stationed on the cliff glaciers above the River of Decline, while the ground forces sent from Suramar City detoured from Echo Valley north of the forest, officially entering the Icecrown Glacier region through a narrow gorge pass.

After crossing the mountains and passing through the Vrykul village of Ymirheim in the middle of Icecrown Glacier, the Night Elf army and the Orc forces successfully joined together before the Frozen Throne.

Due to a lack of rapport and cooperation between the two sides, as well as a fair amount of mutual suspicion, Andreas and Go'el decided after a meeting not to force a joint assault. Instead, they would lead their respective forces to launch a pincer attack on the Frozen Throne from two directions.

With the army at the gates, Ner'zhul hurriedly summoned all the Dreadlords to the throne to ask for a counter-strategy.

"My knight is not yet able to fully control the power of frostmourne and is currently in a hidden underground space merging with the demonic blade. What plan do you have to stop the coalition of Night Elves and Orcs?"

Tichondrius sneered mockingly, "There is no way. An army of this scale is no longer something the Scourge can defend against with conventional tactics."

"The Frozen Throne is almost completely defenseless. Without external support, it's only a matter of time before the defensive line is broken."

With a glint in his eyes, Tichondrius maliciously offered his own solution.

"Now there is only one way to survive: summon the armies of the Burning Legion into Azeroth."

"Don't think I don't know that the two artifacts the Orcs swiped from the Tomb of Sargeras are still in your hands, right?"

Ner'zhul hesitated for a long time. Once the Burning Legion invaded in force, he, who was not yet prepared, would have to play second fiddle, which was completely inconsistent with his original plan.

Through the perspective of the undead officers fighting below, Ner'zhul observed that the situation was rapidly deteriorating, and the thought of self-preservation took the upper hand.

Having made his decision, Ner'zhul used his mental power to retrieve two artifacts from his private vault, letting them float in the air.

One was in the shape of a scepter, filled with dense Fel Energy, while the other was a glowing green gem.

"These are the scepter of sargeras and the eye of sargeras, the spoils of war brought back by Teron Gorefiend."

Ner'zhul sighed with a mix of relief and worry. "Can you really summon the armies of the Burning Legion with just these two artifacts?"

"It is enough."

Tichondrius grasped the two powerful Fel Energy artifacts in his hands and with some effort inlaid the gem into the top of the scepter. When the artifacts combined, the powerful pressure of Fel Energy forced the other Dreadlords to involuntarily drop to one knee and lower their heads.

"Both of these artifacts are beacons specifically left behind by my lord Sargeras. Watch closely, Lich King; your petty schemes are utterly meaningless in the face of absolute power."

Tichondrius channeled every drop of Fel Energy in his body into the staff; the green gem at its tip began to spin wildly.

"All of you, lend me your strength!"

Every Dreadlord poured his power into Tichondrius, who in turn funneled the Fel Energy into the scepter of sargeras.

"Open!"

He aimed the tip of the staff at the air beyond the Frozen Throne; a glaring spatial tear appeared out of nowhere.

As the rift widened, Daelin Summerleaf, stationed in Suramar City, suddenly received Governor Roddick's frantic report.

"It's bad! Andahsil's energy is draining fast—all of it is converging on the Frozen Throne!"

"What?!"

On instinct Daelin turned toward Icecrown Glacier; above the towering Frozen Throne, countless tiny spatial cracks were already visible to the naked eye.

"The situation's changed! Inform Speaker Moonshadow and General Feathermoon at once!"

He didn't need a messenger; Andreas could already sense the ominous aura seeping through the sky's fissures.

"No way..."

"Crack!"

A tangible shattering rang out as a rift to the Twisting Nether tore open above the Frozen Throne and demons surged through in droves.

Go'el gasped at the sight. "Force-tearing space? How is that even possible?"

Orgrim said grimly, "Whatever the principle, we have to seal it—"

Before he could finish, two gigantic blue hands seized the energy edges of the fissure and ripped it even wider.

Andreas watched, dumbstruck, as a typical Eredar head squeezed through the gap.

Azeroth's world-soul reacted instantly; the planet's self-repair set in, visibly shrinking the tear.

The blue-skinned giant hastily clambered through before the rift could close, planting himself firmly on Icecrown Glacier.

Andreas' face twitched. "Uh-oh… we're in big trouble."

He still didn't know how Ner'zhul had contacted the Twisting Nether, but there was no time left to think.

"Pull back! Retreat to Suramar City—Navaz's underground troops as well. Be ready to abandon the city and go subterranean!"

The orcs hadn't even reacted when Andreas issued the withdrawal without hesitation.

"Are you kidding me?! Archimonde entered Azeroth like this?!"

Yes—Archimonde.

Though bewildered, Andreas' mind raced; the moment he recovered he ordered a full retreat.

The orcs were only half a beat behind; they didn't know the towering giant, yet they felt the terrifying power radiating from him.

Go'el shouted, "Quick! Fall back to Dragonblight! Seek help from the Aspects!"

No reminder was needed; the Aspects had already sensed the upheaval and were speeding toward Icecrown Glacier.

"Huh?"

When Malygos saw the colossal figure sweeping the ground with disdain, he let out a strangled cry mid-flight.

"You've got to be joking—Archimonde?!"

The four Aspects arrived in haste with a host of dragons, hovering at the border between Moonglade Forest and Dragonblight; Go'el could read the grave look in their eyes.

After watching the Night Elf army withdraw into Suramar, Andreas shifted into a Golden Eagle and joined the dragons.

"We have to contain Archimonde—now."

He glanced toward the Storm Peaks—until now considered off-limits—and gritted his teeth. "I'll lure the demons into the peaks and force Loken to fight."

"Whatever Loken's current allegiance, he and his master are irreconcilable foes of the Burning Legion. With the Iron Army in play we can at least slow the lesser demons."

"As for Archimonde..."

Andreas' head throbbed; the defiler wouldn't be easy to restrain—even the four Aspects together might not suffice.

Ysera said gravely, "I've sent word through the Dream; Cenarius and Goldrinn will come at speed, but whether they can stop Archimonde is uncertain."

…Before Archimonde set foot in Azeroth, Ner'zhul had held the upper hand in the alliance between Scourge and Legion.

One cold glance from Archimonde and Ner'zhul instantly bowed, survival instincts overriding pride.

"Great Archimonde the defiler, I am Ner'zhul, servant of Lord Kiljaeden. I welcome you."

"Yes, Kiljaeden mentioned you."

Archimonde had no interest in the orc; schemes were Kiljaeden's hobby—his own task was to conquer worlds for the Legion.

"Hmph." Surveying the suddenly empty battlefield, Archimonde snorted. "Insects—fast runners."

He closed his eyes, sensing Northrend's ley-lines; Andahsil blazed like a firefly in the night.

Ignoring Ner'zhul, Archimonde strode toward Moonglade Forest.

By then Andreas was leading part of Suramar's air force to bait demons into the Storm Peaks. Shandris, holding the city, paled when she saw Archimonde's path.

"Not good! Order the druids to sever Andahsil from the world-tree network—now!"

Mountains and rivers were nothing to the forty-metre Archimonde; within minutes he entered Moonglade, heading straight for the towering world-tree.

"Ssshhh—"

Before the network could be cut, Archimonde inhaled deeply, gorging on Andahsil's energy with relish.

"Hm?"

The sudden cutoff made him frown; he turned to see Suramar's defensive veil fade, exposing the city.

"Hmph—Night Elves and their petty tricks."

Crushing the now-powerless trunk of Andahsil, Archimonde began to gather Fel Energy, face darkening.

"Screech!"

A laced Fel ray shot from his index finger; the instant it struck the now-undefended Suramar, a colossal Fel tide erupted, toppling buildings in waves. In the blink of an eye the thriving metropolis became rubble.

Satisfied, Archimonde traced the fading energy of Andahsil across the sea and looked toward southwestern Kalimdor.

"Heh—there you are."

"Tichondrius, shift the assault to the western continent. You know my rule—any demon who's late will be handed to the Fel and Witch Cult for 'reeducation'."

Recalling the cult's methods, Tichondrius shuddered. "By your will! No fool will waste your time."

"Good—then move."

Archimonde spoke the order calmly, ignored the wary Aspects at the edge of Dragonblight, and blinked from sight.

Malygos strained through Azeroth's ley-lines. "Er… he's already over the ocean, still heading for Kalimdor."

Alexstrasza exhaled in relief yet worry. "His leaving Northrend is good for dragonkind, but his next target is Nordrassil, nourished by the Well of Eternity."

"The Night Elves are in peril."

Archimonde's goal was not hard to guess. If the Burning Legion wanted to completely conquer Azeroth, Archimonde alone might not have the power to do so.

After all, the Aspects and Wild Gods were no pushovers; if they swarmed him, they could definitely cause damage to Archimonde.

Furthermore, as a subordinate of the Fallen Titan, Archimonde had heard of the Pantheon's world management system. There should still be Titan Keepers on Azeroth with higher authority than the Aspects.

To completely conquer this world that had once caused setbacks for the Burning Legion, Sargeras himself had to enter Azeroth.

And to open a spatial portal large enough for Sargeras to pass through, the power of the Well of Eternity was indispensable.

The Well of Eternity from the War of the Ancients had vanished due to self-destruction, but fortunately, a certain Demon Hunter had used its waters to create a second one.

While it couldn't compare to the original version, it should be sufficient to summon Sargeras.

Archimonde absorbed pure Arcane energy from within the trunk of Andahsil. Following the source of the energy, he located the second Well of Eternity on the continent of Kalimdor.

The New Well of Eternity was located at the summit of Mount Hyjal. Archimonde had heard of this place during the War of the Ancients; a large number of Wild Gods resided on this holy mountain, and his power alone might not be enough.

Upon receiving Archimonde's command, Tichondrius began summoning a demon army using the residual energy in Andahsil's broken trunk.

Although the ignored Ner'zhul was furious, the Scourge was currently in a weak position, so he could only temporarily keep his head down and endure.

"My knight, master the power of frostmourne as quickly as possible. I still have important work to entrust to you."

'Since Archimonde has gone to Kalimdor, then... the Eastern Kingdoms, lacking the defense of the Night Elves, will be mine.'

...Storm Peaks had been a holy land for the Titan Keepers since tens of thousands of years ago. Several temples of the Keepers were still scattered among these mountains.

However, for various reasons, most of these temples had been abandoned, with only the temple of Loken, the King of Wisdom, still in operation.

At this moment, Loken stood within his Temple of Wisdom, gazing solemnly at the distant sky. Countless Legion demons, permeated with Fel Energy, were rampaging over this holy land of the Titan Keepers.

The terrifying power of Archimonde's descent had not only frightened the Aspects and Andreas but also panicked Yogg-Saron, hiding deep within Ulduar, and N'Zoth in the deep sea.

The reason the Burning Legion 'purified' planets everywhere was ultimately to prevent the spread of the Void.

As planetary parasites released by the void lords, the Old Gods certainly did not lack experience in fighting the Burning Legion... though it was the experience of failure. The number of Old Gods who died at the hands of demons could probably circle the universe once.

Under Yogg-Saron's hysterical orders, Loken fully activated the crafters engine for the first time in a long while. He even personally oversaw the Temple of Wisdom, watching large numbers of iron constructs emerge from the manufacturing station in the center of the mountain plains.

Andreas' plan worked. The long-rebellious Iron Legion clashed with the demons invading the Storm Peaks, greatly distracting the demons staying behind in Northrend.

Because Archimonde arrived too quickly, the residents of Suramar didn't have time to escape from the surface. Under the guidance of Anub'Rekhan, whom Andreas had arranged in advance, they all hid in the underground tunnels beneath Suramar, narrowly avoiding a direct hit from the Finger of Death.

When Andreas returned to the skies above Suramar, his expression turned grim at the tragic state of the world tree Andahsil and Suramar.

The remains of Andahsil were occupied by a large number of demons, and the residual energy in the trunk was being used to open Legion portals.

Andreas could roughly guess Shandris' route; they should have retreated south to Dragonblight along the underground tunnels.

After the five Dragon Aspects' shrines activated a joint defense, a solid hemispherical barrier centered on the Wyrmrest Temple enveloped the entire Dragonblight.

Tichondrius and high-ranking demons like the newly summoned Mannoroth tried to break through, but ultimately returned empty-handed.

When Andreas was granted entry into the barrier and arrived at the Wyrmrest Temple, the displaced people of Suramar were arranged to stay temporarily on the cold snowy plains. The orcs led by Go'el were also taking refuge nearby.

The low morale was almost visible to the naked eye, and a pessimistic atmosphere hung over the entire refugee camp.

After meeting with Shandris, she reported bitterly to Andreas, "Andahsil has been completely destroyed. The remains of the world tree are scattered throughout Moonglade Forest and are now being used by the demons to summon reinforcements."

"Although the main structure of Suramar is still there, it probably cannot be repaired until the demons are successfully driven out."

"Archimonde absorbed the energy that Andahsil didn't have time to cut off and headed straight for the continent of Kalimdor. The Dragon Kings have already led the dragon armies there ahead of time."

"Cenarius and Goldrinn have also awakened from the Dream. Aviana, the Mother of All Birds, was fortunately resurrected before the Legion's invasion. The three demigods are currently setting up a defensive line at the foot of Mount Hyjal."

The only road to Mount Hyjal is through Winterspring, and going up the mountain requires passing through a narrow path. It is foreseeable that the demon army will set sail from Northrend and forcibly land in Winterspring.

"According to the intelligence from Astranaar, flying demons will be the first to cross the sea to reach Winterspring. Once they establish a portal, they will transport large numbers of demons directly from Northrend to Kalimdor."

The current situation was indeed very bad, but it wasn't enough to make it completely unacceptable for Andreas.

On the way back to the Wyrmrest Temple, Andreas received a clear answer from Elune: the azeroth world-soul had increased its protection against similar spatial tearing issues.

No matter what loophole Ner'zhul used to summon Archimonde, they would not be able to reuse it in the future.

After a moment of silent thought, Andreas instructed the dejected Governor Roddick, "Let the residents of Suramar stay in Dragonblight for the time being."

"With the protection of the Aspects' large magic array, it's safe here. When the time for a counteroffensive is ripe, we will definitely retake Suramar."

Roddick had very heavy dark circles under his eyes, clearly from a lack of rest lately. He nodded with a bitter smile, "I will do my best to appease the people. Many have fallen into despair and fear because their home was destroyed. It will likely take a lot of time to calm their emotions."

Andreas sighed and said, "I understand. I'll leave Suramar to you and Navaz. Shandris and I must return to Kalimdor immediately."

...When they returned to the treetop city of Astranaar, the High Council had already begun setting up defensive lines.

Fortunately, Andreas had previously asked Garrosh to gather and train the army in advance. Although the manner of Archimonde's descent was somewhat unexpected, the Night Elf army on mainland Kalimdor was prepared immediately.

Malfurion did not enter the Emerald Dream as he had said before. The Archdruid was mobilizing people to try and wake all the sleeping druids in the Dream.

"Xavius has made a rare appearance. He proposed a temporary truce to us on behalf of N'Zoth."

Malfurion rubbed his brow and said tiredly, "N'Zoth promised that he would not cause us any trouble until the Burning Legion is repelled, and would even provide some help if necessary."

Andreas sneered, "No thanks for the help. I don't want to be stabbed in the back. I'll be grateful as long as they don't add to the chaos."

N'Zoth's choice did not surprise Andreas. These Old Gods on the void side were very afraid of the Burning Legion. Once Sargeras truly descended, they would definitely have no good outcome.

Malfurion also nodded in agreement. "No matter what N'Zoth thinks, I will not pin my hopes on the Old Gods."

"However, the subsiding of the Nightmare and Naga chaos will at least allow us to draw enough troops to defend the mainland."

"I have sent distress signals to the Draenei, Tol'vir, and Tauren. The leaders of each race have responded positively one after another. They will bring their respective main forces as soon as possible. Until then, we can only rely on our own efforts to protect Mount Hyjal."

Andreas was relatively relieved about the reinforcements; besides the Draenei, Tol'vir, and Tauren, the Orcs also stated they would send aid.

They were currently gathering at a harbor south of Dragonblight, preparing to board Night Elves transport ships and rush to Kalimdor for support.

Furthermore, through communication with various ambassadors, Kul Tiras, Dalaran, and Alterac from the Eastern Kingdoms all agreed to send reinforcements. Stromgarde, however, was struggling internally and externally due to domestic poverty and Troll invasions, making it impossible to provide support to the West Continent under these circumstances.

Gilneas continued its isolationist stance, focusing on internal conflicts. Gilneas and Lordaeron were dealing with the Plague spreading from Tirisfal Glades, leaving them unable to send reinforcements.

The Kingdom of Stormwind was still entangled with Orcs and Trolls, but after the Dark Iron Dwarves retreated under Ragnaros' command, the Bronzebeard Dwarves and Gnomes had the capacity to send support to Kalimdor.

With these reinforcements arriving successively, Andreas was confident he could hold the demon army at the foot of the mountain... provided, of course, that Archimonde did not personally intervene.

The most difficult opponent was the defiler himself; ordinary soldiers were useless against him, and sending them up was merely feeding the enemy.

Considering that many Wild Gods were still in the process of resurrection, Malfurion had previously sent people to Zandalar's loa for help, but the response was not optimistic.

Currently, the Zandalari Empire was engaged in a final decisive battle against Ghuun, and all the loa, including Rezan, had taken to the field. The fighting had reached a fever pitch, leaving them no energy to care about affairs outside the island.

The dragon legions led by the four Aspects arrived early and were now firmly guarding the Well of Eternity, located beneath the roots of Nordrassil.

When the group discussion temporarily concluded, Tyrande complained to Andreas with displeasure.

"I told you long ago to get rid of that Lich King fellow sooner. Isn't this fun now? Archimonde was summoned by him."

Celeste immediately refuted, "Strictly speaking, Archimonde was not summoned by Ner'zhul; he merely utilized two Artifacts provided by him."

"We have received a report from Suramar, and an anomaly mentioned by Adjutant Xiayue, Daelin, of the Sentinels caught my attention."

Celeste passed a copied report to everyone present. "Just before Archimonde's arrival, Andahsil's energy was briefly in a state of uncontrolled loss."

"The preliminary conjecture is that Archimonde's arrival was achieved through a beacon or a medium summon, and it was only by acquiring a massive amount of the World Tree's energy afterward that he was able to successfully enter Azeroth. So, the question is..."

Celeste narrowed her eyes and questioned, "Why would Andahsil's energy suddenly be supplied to Archimonde to tear open the rift? Who exactly is behind this?"

"Before facing the external enemy, we must first figure out this problem."

Fandral grasped the meaning of Celeste's words and asked in surprise, "Are you suggesting there is a Mole in Suramar?"

Celeste shook her head. "Not necessarily a Mole, but the Burning Legion must have used some method to connect to Andahsil. We must find and eliminate this hidden danger."

Andreas unconsciously tapped the table with his fingers, pondering as he asked, "Could it be related to Andahsil's roots buried deep underground?"

"After acquiring intelligence provided by the Undead Nerubians, Tichondrius and Ner'zhul must have studied and understood this World Tree. If they tampered with the countless underground tunnels..."

Celeste considered it before concluding, "Theoretically, it's possible. However, Orcs' mastery of magic is very crude, so it's unlikely to be Ner'zhul's doing. Which means..."

"A Dreadlord?"

Andreas clicked his tongue in displeasure. "Those damned bats... Maiev, have you gained anything from interrogating MalGanis?"

Maiev shook her head regretfully. "No. These creatures show no fear of Mortal interrogation. They must have undergone stricter torture training previously."

"But the main reason is that we can't let him simply die. There are many severe punishments I haven't dared to use."

"Then you don't need to worry anymore."

Andreas sneered, "I will have Leticia assist you to ensure that his soul cannot escape after death. Torture him all you want."

Leticia harbored deep hatred for the Dreadlords. Upon hearing she had a chance to torment them, the girl's eyes immediately lit up... Archimonde was extremely strict with his subordinates. Anyone who dared to slack off or cheat under his command never came to a good end.

Demons can indeed resurrect, but only if their souls manage to escape back to the Twisting Nether.

Given Archimonde's abilities, intercepting a demon's soul was not difficult. He would hand these disobedient demon souls over to the Fel and Witch Cult, where these terrifying inquisitors—feared even by the demons of the Legion—would slowly deal with them.

When the nearest Draenei and Orc reinforcements first arrived in Kalimdor, the vanguard army sent by Archimonde also began its attack.

However, the first battle of this war did not take place at Mount Hyjal or Winterspring, but at the junction between the Azshara Region and Ashenvale.

While demons could force entry into the mountain-ringed Winterspring using a portal, the Orcs and Draenei could not. The landing site they chose was Stormwind Harbor in the eastern part of the Azshara Region.

The Night Elves had set up a semi-permanent portal at the border between the Azshara Region and Mount Hyjal. When the mutually hostile Orcs and Draenei unexpectedly met there, they were simultaneously ambushed by the Burning Legion.

Leading this surprise attack force was Archimonde's favorite vanguard general—The Destroyers Mannoroth.

This powerful Pit Lord was dispatched by Archimonde to harass the Night Elves' rear. Previously, he had been operating sporadically within Ashenvale Forest, occasionally slipping into Felwood for a circuit.

The Orcs had dealt with Mannoroth many years ago, and the Draenei were equally familiar with him.

The two uncooperative races engaged Mannoroth and his adjutant, Kazzak, respectively. The Draenei were confronted by the Doomguard Kazzak, while Mannoroth personally went to deal with his own 'toys.'

That's right, toys.

He viewed the Orcs who had drunk his demon blood as his servants and toys. Now that these toys wanted to break free from their master's shackles, Mannoroth felt it necessary to teach them a profound lesson.

"Storm and thunder, lend me your strength!"

The doomhammer in Go'el's hand flashed with dazzling lightning. Aided by DrekThar, the young Shaman gathered large thunderclouds in the sky.

"Rumble!"

Blue and white lightning struck down from the clouds. Mannoroth was not severely injured by the bolt, but his movements were temporarily paralyzed by the electricity. Unfortunately, it seemed it wouldn't hold him for long.

As the Orc Chieftain who led the way in drinking the demon blood, Grom had felt remorse for his rash pursuit of power ever since learning the truth.

The battle against Mannoroth finally gave him a chance to wash away his shame. Grom, who was exhausted due to the receding demon blood, unleashed his peak fighting strength, catalyzed by his surging excitement.

"Roar!"

A high-leaping axe strike cleaved toward the temporarily immobilized Mannoroth. Grom had once used this move to kill the powerful Draenor creature, a Gronn.

However, Mannoroth was ultimately incomparable to the likes of the Gronn. After breaking free from Go'el's restraint, he swept his double-headed war spear across, easily blocking Grom's sacrificial blow.

Just as Mannoroth grinned sinisterly and swung his spear, preparing to attack the defenseless Grom, Go'el's Guard Captain, Broxigar, skillfully landed an axe blow on Mannoroth's supporting foreleg.

"Demon, where are you looking? Over here!"

"Aow!"

Mannoroth, roaring in pain, angrily condensed a Fel Ray on his spear and abruptly blasted it toward Broxigar's direction.

"Hah!"

In the nick of time, he used Heroic Leap to evade the area of effect attack. Broxigar looked back at the forest devastated by the massive Fel Energy blast and gripped his battle axe tighter with his sweaty palm.

Not many Orcs were qualified to participate in the battle against Mannoroth; those who were too weak would just be cannon fodder.

Orgrim clenched his fist in frustration, forcing himself to calm down and steadily command the Orc army to block the attacks of the lesser demons.

'Go'el, this battle is the Orcs' battle for redemption. We must win!'

The War of Redemption that Orgrim spoke of was not limited to the spiritual realm; it had a practical physical impact on the orcs.

The reason orcs changed from their original brown skin to the current sickly green was because Grom and other chieftains led the way in drinking Mannoroth's blood, becoming corrupted by Fel Energy.

The orcs gained immense power from the demon blood, but also fell into a prolonged period of weakness as the effects of the demon blood faded.

As long as Mannoroth was not killed, the orcs' condition of being affected by demon blood would never disappear.

On the other side, the Doomguard fighting the Draenei was named Kazzak, also a massive Demon Lord.

No one dared to directly confront the two-handed greatsword he wielded with powerful cleaves; the terrain of the Azshara Region was being brutally altered by the destruction of that enormous greatsword.

At the same time, Andreas left the capital on the crown of Nordrassil and came to the Well of Eternity, which was enveloped at the root of the World Tree.

This well was Archimonde's main target in rushing to Kalimdor; once the Well of Eternity fell into the hands of the Burning Legion, the overwhelming Demon Army of the War of the Ancients would once again awaken countless Kaldorei's nightmares.

The Dragon Army, including the four Dragon Queens, all gathered by the Well of Eternity; the Black Dragonflight, lacking its Dragon Queen, was represented by the three royal siblings, while Sinestra continued to recover from her injuries in Obsidian Sanctum.

Cenarius and Goldrinn, who had not been seen in the Material World for many years, also awoke from the Emerald Dream; Aviana, who had just been resurrected, was flapping her wings, soaring freely above the gathering place.

Andreas was present as the representative of the Night Elves, and Malfurion and Fandral had also arrived long ago.

Andreas frowned, looking at the sparse lineup of Wild Gods, and asked, "Is Tortolla still unable to awaken?"

Malfurion sighed and explained, "He has begun to emerge from his slumber. It can basically be confirmed that the Nightmare is behind it."

"Xavius did indeed keep his promise to cease all actions affecting the Wild Gods' return, but Tortolla still needs some time to shake off his prolonged state of sleep and cannot yet rush to the front lines to provide support."

Andreas nodded and continued to ask, "What about the other Wild Gods?"

Fandral shook his head and said, "The black panther Aviana and the great eagle Eonhar are still quite far from resurrection. The white stag Malorne is a bit closer, but still cannot be resurrected in a short time."

"The giant bears Uldir and Ursoc, due to the early meddling of the Bearmen Clan, have reached the brink of resurrection, but their connection with the Material World is very weak. They definitely won't make it to this war."

"As for the wild boar Agamaggan..."

Fandral frowned and said, puzzled, "We don't know what state he's in right now. Agamaggan's soul has never returned to the Emerald Dream."

Andreas' heart stirred, and he turned to Laynella, who was in charge of leading the Druid combat forces, "Have you contacted the Quilboar?"

Laynella spread her hands helplessly, "We have, but received no response. They've been living on their own in the Razorfen Downs area, seemingly unconcerned with anything outside."

"Hmm..."

Andreas pondered for a moment, resting his chin on his hand, "Send a small team of stealthy Druids. I will have Prisim's Scouts assist you in infiltrating deep into Razorfen Downs."

"I suspect... Agamaggan's soul has been imprisoned deep within the swamp by some ill-intentioned Quilboar."

Countless years had passed, and most of Andreas' memories from his previous life had become fragmented.

Because he had leveled countless alt accounts when bored, he vaguely remembered that when he was leveling an alt and farming the Razorfen Downs instance, Agamaggan's soul seemed to be one of the quest-giving NPCs.

He still had a somewhat blurry impression that the translucent wild boar stood in front of the final Boss when turning in the quest.

Since losing Agamaggan's guidance, the Quilboar, who once had a glorious history, had fallen at light speed. In these ten thousand years, they had not only made no progress but had become more primitive and savage than before the War of the Ancients.

Although the Bearmen had also lost Uldir and Ursoc, the souls of these two giant bear demigods would occasionally descend to deliver dreams. Agamaggan's disappearance for ten thousand years was absolutely abnormal.

"Fandral, accelerate the progress of awakening Tortolla. Strive to have the Turtle Demigod make it to the final battle. The Mortal army will do its best to block the Demon Army's attack, buying time for his awakening."

Malorne, the versatile peak, could not be resurrected in a short time, and Neltharion, who should have taken on the role of the main tank, had betrayed early. Among a large number of demigod-level supports and DPS, only Tortolla possessed strong resilience.

If Archimonde personally entered the fray, with the current demigod lineup, no one could withstand his attacks head-on and would eventually be defeated one by one. Tortolla was especially important in this situation.

"Ugh! You hateful... slaves!"

A sky-shattering scream came from afar, from the south of Mount Hyjal, and a towering pillar of Fel Energy illuminated the night sky in a sickly green.

Andreas looked at the gradually weakening and dissipating pillar of Fel Energy, puzzled, "What's happening?"

Garrosh rubbed his chin and replied, "That direction... should be where the orcs and Draenei are coming to reinforce. Did they encounter an enemy?"

Mannoroth's surprise attack was very sudden, and he deliberately arranged for flying demons to block the Draenei and orcs' channels for requesting aid. Even now, the Night Elves had not received any combat reports from the Azshara Region.

"I'll go take a look."

Aviana, the Demigod Messenger, volunteered. After gaining the approval of the various leaders, she flapped her wings vigorously and disappeared from everyone's sight in the blink of an eye.

Only a few minutes later, Aviana returned, bringing the latest battle report from the front lines.

"Mannoroth, leading a detachment of the Burning Legion harassing Ashenvale, ambushed the orc and Draenei allied forces. He was killed in a self-sacrificing charge by one of the orc generals, and his body lies at the foot of the mountain northwest of Aldrassil Town."

"Mannoroth?"

Andreas was somewhat surprised. Previously, Mannoroth had been conducting guerrilla warfare throughout Felwood, so he hadn't expected him to suddenly appear in the Azshara Region to intercept the Draenei and orc reinforcements.

"Detailed information? What are the casualties on both sides?"

Aviana tilted her head, "I don't know much about orcs and Draenei, but I heard that the fallen orc general was called Grom."

"The Draenei suffered minimal losses. Kazzak, who was attacking them, saw the unfavorable situation and fled."

"The Demon side also didn't suffer many troop losses; it seems Mannoroth single-mindedly insisted on personally engaging in battle, reducing the consumption of his subordinate minions."

Andreas nodded thoughtfully, "In any case, being able to kill Mannoroth early is ultimately a good thing. This way, Archimonde will have one less capable vanguard general."

"However, Tichondrius and the other Dreadlords are still spreading Fel Energy corruption in Felwood. Someone must be sent to stop them."

Just as Andreas was considering how to arrange personnel, Tyrande, who had been absent for a short while, suddenly descended from the sky on a Hippogryph.

"I've already arranged personnel for Felwood. I believe he can handle the demons there."

Malfurion's brow twitched; he had an inexplicable premonition.

"My love, were you just going to..."

"Yes." Tyrande said without hesitation, "I released Illidan. The current situation is not optimistic, and we need his strength and knowledge of demons."

Ever since the Burning Legion landed on Kalimdor, Archimonde dispatched several small teams to infiltrate Night-Elf territory.

Mannoroth raided Ashenvale, Kaz'rogoth prowled over the Azshara Region, and Tichondrius led a Dreadlord squad through Felwood.

While Tauren and Tol'vir reinforcements marched north, they were intercepted by the Legion in the middle of The Barrens; the two sides are now fighting near Deadwind Oasis.

Kul Tiras warships also arrived in Kalimdor, carrying reinforcements from the Eastern Kingdoms.

A sudden storm forced them off the planned route to Stormwind Harbor; they landed on the east coast of the desolate red wasteland south of the Azshara Region.

The fleet brought Bronzebeard Dwarves, Gnomes, Alteraci, Dalaran, and Kul Tiras troops, but on landing they were ambushed by Legion forces lying in wait.

A Fel-Lord named Sakar created localized storms at sea, deliberately herding the Kul Tiran fleet toward that landing site.

Unprepared for the trap, the Eastern Kingdoms forces were caught off guard and are now bottled up in Drywater Valley, unable to advance.

The Legion's strategy is clearly to besiege the point and destroy the relief troops: powerful demons, using surprise ambushes, have blocked every incoming force. The orcs and Draenei were first to break the deadlock.

To free his people from the Pit Lord's enslavement, Warsong chieftain Grommash Hellscream gave his life in heroic sacrifice.

Though no lover of the orcish invaders, Andreas had to admit that the usually muscle-headed Grom redeemed himself and his race at the last moment, freeing them from Mannoroth's lingering taint.

With Mannoroth's death, the soul-weakness caused by the side-effects of demon blood finally lifted, and the orcs regained their peak strength before the final battle.

But the focus now was not on the orcs—it was on Tyrande's shocking confession.

"Illidan?!"

Malfurion and Maiev cried out together; Maiev quickly objected, "Impossible! My Wardens guard Illidan's prison—they would never release him without my personal order… wait!"

Maiev shot Tyrande a murderous glare. "Don't tell me you struck down my sisters?!"

"Hmph!"

Tyrande curled her lip. "Don't paint me so vicious. Your disobedient subordinates were merely knocked out and tied up. In times of need I don't waste lives."

"You—!"

"Enough!"

Malfurion stepped in with a stern shout, halting their clash; the usually soft-spoken arch-druid looked deadly serious.

"Tyrande, do you realize what you have done?"

"Ten thousand years ago Illidan committed grave crimes; it was the New Well of Eternity he created that drew the Legion's gaze upon us again."

"He was imprisoned to reflect on his faults, yet in ten millennia he has never once admitted his mistakes—has he?"

"Hah." Maiev sneered. "Of course not, else why would I waste manpower keeping him underground? That man still believes he acted for the Night Elves' and Azeroth's future."

Andreas raised a hand, cutting short the mutual accusations. "Pause for a moment."

"What's done is done. Rather than assign blame, let's make this double-edged sword called Illidan serve our greatest need."

"High Priestess, did Illidan set out alone, or did you assign escorts to 'accompany' him?"

Ignoring Malfurion's disappointed stare and Maiev's glare, Tyrande answered calmly, "Of course I gave him temporary subordinates—what could Illidan accomplish alone?"

Andreas nodded. "Then for now we leave Felwood to him. Arch-Druid, if you're uneasy, you can send—"

"No need," Malfurion cut in. "I will watch him myself. I know my brother best; left unchecked, Illidan will inevitably do something that leaves everyone stunned."

Andreas shrugged in silent consent. Malfurion at once shifted into a Storm Crow and sped westward toward Mount Hyjal.

Though not on the front line, Andreas was overwhelmed just collating intelligence pouring in from across the world.

Events in Northrend were unfolding exactly as Andreas had foreseen.

Dragonblight lay shrouded by a gigantic warding array; the citizens of Suramar and orcish civilians sheltered inside the magical barrier.

Loken and Yogg-Saron, sensing the Legion's overwhelming threat, ran the crafters engine at full capacity to produce an Iron Army, clashing fiercely where Storm Peaks met Icecrown Glacier.

The chaotic eastern reaches of Northrend suddenly calmed.

Vrykul and Iron Dwarves halted their fighting; Drakari Trolls and Bearmen likewise pulled back their forces. Every race turned westward, bracing for close-quarters battle with the Burning Legion.

The self-proclaimed master of Northrend, the Lich King, also kept busy. With Night-Elf power largely withdrawn, he dispatched Undead Nerubians to retake control of the subterranean world.

Anub'Rekhan's Nerubians lacked the numbers to hold back the undead underground offensive. On Andreas' orders he abandoned the city of Ankhet and led all his kin back to Dragonblight to await further commands, yielding vast territories.

Meanwhile, deep in a cavern, Arthas—having completed his attunement—returned to the surface.

Royal guards Captain Marwyn and Falric, who had scoured Dragonblight for him, were overjoyed—until Arthas struck them down with his runeblade without warning.

When Alteraci, Khaz Modan, Gnomeregan, Dalaran, and Kul Tiras reinforcements reached Kalimdor, Arthas and his party crossed the sea on the Northrend expedition's abandoned, half-wrecked ships and returned to Tirisfal Glades.

Terenas, heart-sick over his missing son, suddenly heard of Arthas' miraculous return and joyously staged a grand welcoming ceremony for the prince.

Andreas was tied up organizing Kalimdor's defense and had no time to watch over Lordaeron.

He could only pass warnings to Quel'Thalas through Vereesa and Lumina.

Quel'Thalas must hold the southern Thalassian Gate at the Amani Forest and quickly purge the traitors hiding in ZulAman—a great storm was about to sweep the Eastern Kingdoms.

Taking advantage of the Legion's focus on Kalimdor, the Lich King Ner'zhul openly enacted his own plan in the Eastern Kingdoms under the pretext of sending reinforcements to the Legion.

First in his sights stood humanity's most populous and powerful kingdom—Lordaeron—whose people Ner'zhul had long coveted.

When Andreas received the news that Terenas was dead and the Capital City of Lordaeron had been captured by the Scourge, becoming a base for the undead, his emotions did not fluctuate much.

Niana, who had been stationed in the Capital City of Lordaeron as the Alliance ambassador, had already been taken care of by Andreas from the moment Arthas went missing.

At the same time Arthas landed in Tirisfal Glades, Niana fulfilled her final duty by warning Terenas. When it failed to gain attention, she led all the Night Elf staff of the embassy in an emergency evacuation.

Escaping the Capital City of Lordaeron alongside Niana was another noble of prominent status—Archbishop of the Light Benedictus.

This Archbishop seemed to have obtained relevant intelligence through some channels, using the excuse of further developing the Holy Light faith in the Kingdom of Stormwind to lead a missionary team out of the city.

After leaving the Capital City of Lordaeron, Benedictus' team headed south through Silverpine Forest, using Kul Tiras merchant ships to travel to the Kingdom of Stormwind in the southern part of the continent, "coincidentally" avoiding the storm of destruction in Lordaeron.

Without external interference, Lordaeron was unsurprisingly destroyed from within by Arthas, and the residents who could not escape in time all became recruits for the Scourge.

As the Lich King let out a wild laugh from the Frozen Throne, the once-mighty Kingdom of Lordaeron fell into collapse.

Saidan Dathohan, deputy commander of the Silver Hand, suffered multiple severe injuries while sending out the last bloodline of the Menethil royal family—Arthas' sister, Princess Calia—from the capital.

Dathohan escorted Princess Calia eastward at full speed, rushing through the Western Wilds before the Scourge's influence could spread, and only collapsed into a coma from exhaustion after reaching Tyrs Hand, the headquarters of the Silver Hand.

As it turned out, Dathohan's decision to flee desperately was correct.

In just one month, the millions of undead in the Capital City of Lordaeron began to expand frantically. Under the command of Necromancers, large numbers of mindless low-level undead flooded into the Western Wilds, a major production area of the Kingdom of Lordaeron.

On the Highgate Wall of Gilneas on the side facing Lordaeron, Niana gazed at the spreading sea of undead from afar and sighed helplessly.

"I warned Terenas sternly, but unfortunately, he was never willing to believe that his 'all-around' son would be controlled by others."

Brunhilde patted Niana's shoulder and comforted her, "You did your best. People manipulated by emotions are sometimes indeed beyond human power to stop."

"What are your plans next? Will you cross the sea and return to Kalimdor?"

Niana shook her head and said firmly, "My mentor gave me the right to choose freely. Even if I return to Kalimdor, it would be difficult for me to play a significant role on my own."

"Since that's the case, I've decided to stay in the Eastern Kingdoms. As the Night Elf Republic's ambassador to the Alliance, I will try my best to connect various resistance forces to curb the expansion of the Scourge."

...Kalimdor, Northrend, and the Eastern Kingdoms—these three important territories that make up Azeroth were simultaneously plunged into violent turmoil for the first time.

Andreas is not an omniscient or omnipotent god; he cannot focus his attention on three continents at once.

The crisis in Kalimdor was already enough of a headache for him; he could only leave Lordaeron to its own fate.

While blocking several Night Elf reinforcements, Archimonde commanded the vanguard of the Burning Legion to enter Ashenvale Gorge at the foot of Mount Hyjal from Winterspring and began the ascent.

The first checkpoint in Ashenvale Gorge was set up with heavy defenses. This army's orders were not to kill the enemy bravely, but to use the pre-built solid fortifications to delay the Burning Legion's advance as much as possible.

With the idea of preserving manpower for subsequent defense lines, a large number of arcane golems were deployed on the first line. The latest models of various golems were lined up on the walls, and field technicians responsible for maintaining them stood ready beneath the walls.

Leading the demon vanguard were the Pit Lord Azgalor and the Doomguard Kazrogar. Although these two were not core generals within the Burning Legion, they were more than sufficient to serve as vanguards.

The Burning Legion's offensive followed a standard procedure: when in doubt, drop Infernals first.

Countless green meteors streaked across the sky, summoned by Eredar sorcerers, aimed directly at the Night Elf checkpoint below.

The Night Elves, who had fought fiercely against the Burning Legion ten thousand years ago, were well-prepared for this tactic.

With the Well of Eternity behind them, the Night Elves had an inexhaustible supply of energy, and Andreas was not so pedantic as to leave it unused.

Before the Infernals hit the walls, they were first filtered through a one-way anti-magic field above the checkpoint.

The Infernals that passed through this field... could no longer be called Infernals.

Their structural souls were forcibly erased as they passed through the anti-magic field, and the Fel Energy flames on their bodies were completely extinguished. What fell to the ground was merely a pile of lifeless, sickly green stones.

"Clang, clang, clang!"

The stones hit the shields pre-positioned against the sky on the Wall of Nordrassil, making dull thudding sounds. The Burning Legion's initial attack ended in failure.

"Fire!"

At the Night Elf officer's command, the heavy cannons on the shoulders of the Artillery Golems began to show their power. Arcane cannon energy shells smashed into the Burning Legion's positions. Unprepared for the total failure of the Infernal attack, the Burning Legion was thrown into chaos.

"Attack! Do not fear death, Lord Archimonde is with us!"

The Doomguard Kazrogar led the charge, summoning a massive rain of fire to strike the Night Elves' barriers, while simultaneously commanding the Eredar sorcerers to perform saturated magical bombardment, striving to overload the barriers as quickly as possible.

Since the Burning Legion had sneaked into Azeroth this time, most heavy weapons could not be transported from the Twisting Nether due to a lack of energy, and they had to rely on brute force to charge.

After Andahsil's energy supply was cut off, the residual energy in its trunk was low, only enough for the Burning Legion to open small Fel portals, which closed automatically shortly after due to energy exhaustion.

In contrast, the Night Elves fighting on their home turf could exert 120% of their combat power. With the right time, place, and people, Azgalor and Kazrogar, who had accepted the vanguard mission, found this solid line of defense very troublesome.

Archimonde did not have the patience of Kil'jaeden to wait slowly for the layout to be completed. He was a well-known hothead in the Burning Legion. Once the defiler's impatience was provoked, even his trusted general Mannoroth would not have a good time.

Mannoroth's unexpected death had put Archimonde in a very bad mood. Before the final battle had even begun, that brainless fool had died at the foot of the mountain, and by the rebellion of his own slaves, which was a complete disgrace to the Burning Legion.

In his foul mood, Archimonde's patience shortened further. If they could not break through the Night Elves' first line of defense within three days, both Azgalor and Kazrogar, as vanguard generals, would be severely punished by the defiler.

"Roar!"

The Pit Lord Azgalor, relying on his racial advantage of physical strength, charged at the very front. The huge double-headed war spear in his hand hacked at the tall walls made of reinforced concrete, leaving deep gashes. The thick steel bars buried inside the walls were also cut through by his monstrous strength.

The first line of defense was mainly left to the arcane golems to hold. Andreas' orders did not include a decapitation strategy targeting demon commanders, which was also a deliberate trap set for the Burning Legion's habitual thinking.

Lacking sufficient personnel to cooperate, the arcane golems were ultimately unable to carry the overall situation. On the third day of the Burning Legion's attack, the defensive barriers finally became completely overloaded.

As the time limit approached, Azgalor and Kazrogar charged frantically at the front and led the heavily damaged demon vanguard to break through this wall checkpoint before nightfall.

Seeing that the situation was lost, the surviving field technicians and officers simply retreated to the rear through portals.

The half-destroyed arcane golems uniformly activated their self-destruct systems, dealing another heavy blow to the Burning Legion, which was celebrating its victory, catching them off guard.

"Humph!"

Archimonde looked coldly at the two disheveled vanguard generals. "I have always kept my promises. Since you completed the task within the time limit, the losses suffered due to your carelessness will be overlooked for now."

"Continue forward. There is still a long way to go to the summit. You two get out and rest. The next task of leading the offensive will be given to Brutallus and Betherokk. I also give you three days. Don't disappoint me."

"Yes!"

Brutallus was a Pit Lord of considerable strength, and Andreas had crossed paths with him once over two thousand years ago.

Beth'ugg, on the other hand, was a powerful Fel Lord of significant might; he was the right-hand man of the Fel Lord leader, Zakuun.

The second defensive line located in the Verdant Fields area was extremely important, as it was a vital pass blocking the way to Tortolla's resting place.

Andreas arranged for the Orcs, who had just been picked up from Mount Hyjal, to guard the front lines of the second defense. The Draenei, meanwhile, volunteered to serve as their reserves, prepared to take over the line when the Orcs were exhausted.

The Orcs had just endured a tragic battle, losing not only Grommash Hellscream, hailed as the strongest Orc warrior, but even their Warchief Go'el was wounded.

Most of the Orcs wore expressions of sorrow, yet their fighting spirit remained high; they had swept away their previous dejection, standing sharp like unsheathed swords.

The Night Elf forces the Orcs had previously seen in the Eastern Kingdoms and Northrend were merely the tip of the iceberg.

After arriving on the continent of Kalimdor and witnessing the massive number of Night Elves on this vast land, Go'el and Orgrim were immensely relieved that they had chosen the cold continent of Northrend as their base instead.

The Night Elves led by example, holding the first line of defense to the death and inflicting significant losses on the demons.

Even though they knew the Night Elves intended to use the Orcs as cannon fodder, Go'el and Orgrim could only rub their noses and accept it.

This was a crucial opportunity for the Orcs to win the recognition of the races of Azeroth through their performance. With a bandage wrapped around his shoulder, Go'el led the Orc army toward the second pass at the Verdant Fields with a resolute expression.

"Prophet, have you truly decided to guard the second line of defense?"

After watching the Orcs depart, Andreas turned to look at Velen beside him. "The pressure on the second line will definitely not be small. I could arrange for you to be at the final joint defensive line."

Velen smiled and shook his head. "There is no need. Just as the Orcs need to prove themselves, the Draenei, as fellow outsiders, also need to demonstrate their value in this great crisis sweeping across Azeroth."

Although the friendly Draenei had already gained preliminary recognition from the races of Kalimdor with the Night Elves' endorsement, Velen saw clearly that to truly treat Azeroth as the Draenei's new home, they had to show an attitude of sharing trials and tribulations.

Andreas nodded. "Since you have decided, Prophet, I won't say more."

"But please exercise restraint. There are three even more fortified defensive lines behind you. There is no need to fight to the death against the Burning Legion at this pass. While there is life, there is hope."

"I know."

Velen nodded to Andreas in gratitude, then followed Akama, Yrel, and other generals, leading the Draenei elite through the portal to the Verdant Fields.

Thanks to the infinite energy of the Well of Eternity, semi-permanent portals connected the rear to the passes until the defensive lines fell.

Once a defensive line was broken and untenable, the defenders could retreat to the rear through the portals at any time. This ensured the preservation of each race's vital forces to the greatest extent, preventing them from being unable to retreat in time due to exhaustion and having the Burning Legion cut off their escape.

The first battle at the Verdant Fields was engaged by the Orcs. Go'el touched the sturdy walls made of reinforced concrete with some emotion.

"I am now very glad of the decision I made then, but at the same time, I am quite troubled."

"It's fortunate that the plan to attack Sholazar Basin was not put into practice, but if we cannot expand into northern Borean Tundra, how will the Orcs ensure they have enough land to feed their growing population?"

Orgrim patted Go'el on the shoulder to comfort him. "No need to rush. Since we already have a base, at least we don't have to wander around like headless flies."

"There is still time before the next batch of youngsters grows up, and Borean Tundra is far from reaching its population limit. With the vastness of Azeroth, I believe there will be suitable territory for the Orcs to develop."

"Alright." Go'el's gaze sharpened as he saw the demon vanguard appearing on the far horizon. "These issues can wait until after the war. The enemy is here. All troops, prepare for battle!"

..."As I thought, someone was behind this..."

Looking at the ugly and hideous Quilboar head at his feet, Andreas turned his head to look at the small boar soul nearby.

"Agamaggan? How did you become like this?"

In Andreas' memory, Agamaggan had thorny barbs as hard as steel on his back, his body was covered in numerous magical runes, and his height exceeded ten meters. He looked massive and reliable.

The honest-looking little pig before him could not be compared to the Wild God of the Quilboar in his memory.

"Haha~"

Agamaggan laughed sheepishly. "I was blindsided by my own people. I didn't expect the despicable villains of the Thorncurse Family to try and extract my power for their own use."

Andreas had long heard of Agamaggan's personality from Malfurion. Although his original form looked very hideous, he was actually a very easy-going Wild God with an honest temperament and was very friendly to Mortals.

In the early years, the Quilboar also inherited most of his personality traits and got along very well with races like the Night Elves and Bearmen. This situation lasted until Agamaggan's death.

Charlga Thorncurse was the name of the owner of the pig head beneath Andreas' foot.

Charlga and her ancestors had been deceiving Agamaggan's soul for ten thousand years, binding him deep within Razorfen Downs in an attempt to steal the power of the Wild God of the Quilboar.

But Mortals are just Mortals, and the primitive Quilboar were not an ancient civilization with a deep tradition of deicide like the Trolls.

The Thorncurse Family's years of research failed to yield decisive results; instead, Agamaggan's soul was severely damaged during countless experiments, eventually turning into the form of this little pig.

"I'm sorry. Although ten thousand years has brought me incredibly close to the material world, my soul is currently very weak. I won't be able to help in this great war, at least."

Agamaggan's apologetic and honest expression made everyone present unable to resist showing a knowing smile despite the tense situation.

Cenarius raised his hand to open a verdant portal. "Go, return to the Emerald Dream to recuperate. The Burning Legion's designs on Azeroth will certainly not be the last. In the near future, we will definitely need your strength."

Agamaggan's soul gave a tired yawn. "Ha~ I really should have a good sleep. I believe you can win this war. I look forward to the day I can fight alongside you all again."

Agamaggan's situation was different from other Wild Gods waiting for resurrection; the distance between his soul and the material world was almost non-existent, and he could even walk on Azeroth in spirit form.

He only needed to heal his weak soul in the Emerald Dream, and he would be able to resurrect within a few years at most.

Agamaggan's future return was undoubtedly good news, but it could not provide any help to the current battle situation.

On the other hand, the news Fandral sent from the shores of Darkgrey Lake was very heartening.

Tortolla, the Wild God with the strongest defense, had finally awakened from his ten-thousand-year-long slumber. After a short period of recuperation, he would be able to return to the battlefield.

"Drink!"

Grom swung his Doomhammer, smashing the head of a felguard. Orgrim, who was guarding Grom, took the opportunity to kick the headless demon. A large number of demons, dead in various ways, had already fallen around them.

"Hoo~ hoo~"

It was the second night of the orcs guarding the pass, and the swarming demons seemed endless. With heavy casualties, Grom was forced to personally go up to the city wall to fight the enemy.

His magic power was exhausted, and he temporarily couldn't summon the help of the elements. Grom could only rely on the tough physique developed by Orgrim to wield his warhammer in attack.

Even so, his stamina was almost at its limit, and the aging Orgrim was panting heavily.

Brox, covered in blood, fiercely guarded his brother Varok. Both of them looked like they were at the end of their rope, but Varok still propped up his body, commanding the remaining orcs with full vigor to barely maintain the battle line.

Orgrim laboriously propped himself up with his warhammer on the ground. "Grom, retreat. If we keep fighting, we'll be wiped out."

Grom gritted his teeth. "At the limit, huh? It's a pity we couldn't hold out until the third day."

The orcs' predicament had long been seen by Prophet Velen. To prevent the defensive line from being breached by demons, the draenei arrived early from behind the line, taking over the orcs' work and engaging the demons.

Orgrim subconsciously avoided Velen's gaze. The older generation of orcs and draenei had an irreconcilable hatred, and the main reason for that hatred lay with the orcs who had been corrupted by demons.

Although Grom had heard about this history from elders like Orgrim and Drek'Thar, he hadn't experienced it firsthand and didn't feel deeply about it.

"Lord Velen, thank you for the timely reinforcement from the draenei."

Velen nodded lightly. "No need to be polite. It's all for Azeroth. You all should retreat first; we'll take it from here."

"Hmph!"

A heavily armored paladin beside Velen couldn't help but let out a heavy snort of anger at the orcs.

Velen's white eyebrow slightly raised, and he reminded sternly, "Maraad, restrain yourself."

"...Yes, Prophet."

Maraad's own sister had died at the hands of the orcs. Even though he had received a formal paladin education since childhood, he was still just a mortal with emotions and desires. It was impossible for him to be magnanimous enough to forgive an enemy with such deep hatred.

Except for Grom and the younger generation of orcs, all the orcs who had participated in the Draenei War, including Orgrim, hurriedly retreated to the rear, unwilling to make too much eye contact with the hateful-looking draenei.

Samara asked with displeasure, "Prophet, do you really believe these orcs can turn over a new leaf? Their savage nature wasn't brought by demon blood, was it?"

Velen stroked his white beard, watching the orcs retreat into the portal. His eyes, which could see into the future, shimmered with a beautiful, starlike radiance, before slowly returning to normal after a few seconds.

"The past sins of the orcs are gradually fading with the passing of the older generation. Under the leadership of the new Warchief, Grom, the orcs do have the intention of abandoning their barbaric traditions. At least for now, it's enough."

Looking up at the still vast demon army in the distance, Velen sighed, "Azeroth is the draenei's last refuge and a place for counterattack. To protect this world, we need to unite everyone's strength."

"The hatred between orcs and draenei is not an isolated case. Humans, who suffered brutal invasions, also have a blood feud with them. But in the face of a powerful external enemy, we must temporarily set aside these conflicts."

"The Burning Legion is the strongest enemy we need to face together. We cannot let hatred control our minds and cause unnecessary internal strife in this critical moment."

"Yes, your will."

For this Battle of Mount Hyjal, Velen brought three archbishops, Akama, Maladaar, and Naaru, as well as several rising stars such as Nobundo, Maraad, Samara, and Yrel.

Archbishops O'ros and Hataaru remained on the Exodar to make final adjustments to the Tempest Keep. In case of dire necessity, this spaceship, designed for interstellar travel, would also need to join the battle.

The Tempest Keep was not built by the Naaru for combat. Among the several escort ships, only the Arcatraz had some defensive firepower, but it was completely outmatched against the fel warships of the Burning Legion.

However, the Tempest Keep was, after all, the Naaru's flagship. With a Naaru present, this fleet could still exert some combat capability.

"Let's begin."

Velen's normally gentle expression gradually turned solemn. "The last time we directly engaged the Burning Legion was hundreds of years ago. This time, the draenei will not flee again!"

"Thump!" Velen's Prophet's Staff struck the ground heavily, and he, uncharacteristically, encouraged the entire army with an impassioned tone, "Draenei! Show the Burning Legion our will! Azeroth must not fall! We must hold this stronghold until the time limit is reached!"

"Yes!"

...In reality, the draenei reinforcements this time were still somewhat reserved; at least the Naaru within the Tempest Keep had not come to the front lines.

However, Andreas did not question this. The Naaru were the draenei's last resort; they would not easily reveal their trump card until the most critical moment.

As the draenei took over from the orcs to continue guarding the second pass, reinforcements from the tauren, tol'vir, and various nations of the Eastern Kingdoms successively broke through the Burning Legion's blockade and arrived.

As the various racial reinforcements arrived, the latest news from Felwood Forest also followed closely behind.

When Malfurion arrived in Felwood, Illidan, who had just been "released from prison," had indeed made another astonishing move.

Tichondrius and others, acting on Archimonde's orders, extracted fel energy from the Skull of Go'el to secretly corrupt Felwood Forest.

Maiev's sentinels were chasing these dreadlords who were fleeing east and west, but the cunning Nathrezim had always managed to elude Maiev.

When Illidan arrived in Felwood Forest, some areas of the northern forest had already been corrupted by fel energy. Local flora and fauna showed severe mutations, and even the nearby furbolgs were affected, becoming violent and warlike.

As the saying goes, haste makes waste. With her enemy close at hand, Maiev unconsciously forgot Andreas's teachings. Impatient, she was played for a fool by the treacherous dreadlords.

The resilient Illidan would not be easily deceived by demon tricks. The demon hunter's special vision, gained by sacrificing his eyes, allowed him to see energy flows over a wide range. No matter how cunning the demon, it could not escape his sight.

While the dreadlords were gleefully enjoying the thrill of toying with the night elves, little did they know their home base was being ambushed.

Illidan, taking advantage of Tichondrius and the other dreadlords' absence, followed the energy flow to find the source of the forest's corruption—the Skull of Go'el.

The remaining demon minions were caught off guard. While the night elves sent by Tyrande to "assist" Illidan were busy clearing out the demons, the demon hunter already held the Skull of Go'el in his hand.

"Interesting."

Illidan, with his free left hand, stroked his chin, a half-smile on his face. "A fel artifact made from someone's skull, with a lot of the skull owner's knowledge still remaining inside. In that case…"

Illidan was always a man of action. Confirming there was no danger around, he immediately began to absorb the vast fel energy within the Skull of Go'el.

The fel energy pouring into his body began to change Illidan's physical form. His physique became taller, his feet turned into hooves, curved horns grew on his head, and a pair of demon-specific leathery wings appeared on his back.

When the Skull of Go'el was stolen, Tichondrius immediately sensed something was wrong. He abandoned his plan to toy with Maiev and rushed back to the altar with his dreadlord squad.

As Maiev chased Tichondrius and the others to the altar, Malfurion also flew in from Mount Hyjal, and the four parties converged and collided.

Seeing the unfamiliar demon examining his sharp claws, Malfurion instinctively felt a pang of pain, then furiously attacked him.

"Demon! What have you done to my brother!"

Although Illidan hadn't expected Malfurion to attack so suddenly, as a demon hunter, his reaction speed was incredibly agile.

As the wind blades from Malfurion's wings approached, Illidan's newly grown wings functioned for the first time, blowing him back a few steps, just enough to evade Malfurion's attack range.

"Heh heh, my brother, don't be so impatient. Aren't I standing right here, perfectly fine?"

Although Illidan's tone still carried a hint of mockery, Malfurion, familiar with his brother, vaguely detected a trace of relief within it.

However, Malfurion's focus wasn't there at the moment; the storm crow that had landed transformed back into human form, and he stared in disbelief at the grotesque demon.

"Are you Illidan?"

"It's me, Malfurion." Illidan spread his arms, showcasing his powerful demonic physique, a wicked smile on his face. "Don't you recognize me just because I've changed my appearance?"

"You!"

Malfurion pointed at the demon Illidan, his eyes wide with shock, speechless for a long moment.

Leticia had no time for the brothers' charade. After leaping from the back of the hippogryph high in the sky, her first target was Tichondrius, who was watching the show nearby.

"Demon! Today, I'll use your life to honor my father!"

The moon glaive, enveloped in black light, flew from Leticia's hand, cutting a strange arc through the air, aimed directly at Tichondrius, the leader of this demon squad.

"Hmph!"

Tichondrius was, after all, the leader of the Nathrezim; while his combat prowess might fall short against Legion overlords, he was confident in dealing with mere mortals.

His sharp claws crossed to block in front of him, and the keen edge of the moon glaive clashed violently with Tichondrius' claws, emitting a harsh, screeching "zzzz" sound as they spun and rubbed.

"Hah!"

With a powerful outward thrust of both claws, the moon glaive, losing its momentum, flew backward erratically. Leticia, who had just landed, deftly moved to regain control of it.

"Heh heh~ I was wondering who it was."

Tichondrius smiled sinisterly, deliberately sticking out his tongue to lick the corner of his mouth. "So it's the naive little girl from the Moonsong family. I remember you; your father's soul tasted quite good."

"Shut up!"

Dreadlords are masters at provoking their enemies. Struck at her sore spot, Leticia's eyes turned crimson as she launched a furious, relentless assault on Tichondrius, the moon glaive circling the Dreadlord with erratic movements, cutting at him repeatedly.

'Tsk! This little girl has grown so much in strength.'

Although he appeared to be handling it with ease, Tichondrius was under considerable pressure.

The force behind the moon glaive was immense; each strike forced him to block with all his might, and the mental shock contained within the black energy enveloping the moon glaive also kept Tichondrius scrambling.

While Illidan and Malfurion were acting out their family drama, a fierce battle was raging here.

If Tichondrius had been alone, Leticia's many years of diligent training would likely have been enough to defeat him without much trouble.

But Tichondrius, having learned from a past mistake of acting alone, had long since understood. He was always accompanied by several high-ranking Nathrezim warriors.

Tyrande's direct unit, sent to monitor Illidan, exchanged glances. Seeing Leticia's sentinel squad begin to clash with the demons, they hesitated for a moment, then joined the attack against the Dreadlord's team.

They had been unable to stop Illidan's arbitrary actions; at least they had to secure some spoils of war, otherwise it would be difficult to explain to the High Priestess.

Malfurion looked at Illidan with an expression of anger and disappointment. "You actually debased yourself to become a demon? I thought these ten thousand years of imprisonment would make you mature a bit. I didn't expect you to still act so thoughtlessly!"

At the mention of the ten thousand years of imprisonment, the wicked smile that had been on Illidan's face turned grim.

"Malfurion, it seems you don't approve of my choice?"

"Of course not!"

Malfurion roared in anger, "Can you even be called a night elf in that state? Get out! From now on, I'll pretend I have no brother, get out of our forest!"

Illidan's chest heaved, but he maintained a calm demeanor on the surface.

"So be it, brother. From now on, we have no ties. Take care of yourselves."

The moment he turned, a hint of loneliness appeared in Illidan's expression.

His only kin still couldn't understand him, and the proud demon hunter had never deigned to explain his motives to anyone.

Spreading the demonic wings on his back, the suppressed frustration in Illidan's heart urgently sought release. His eyes, faintly glowing with fel green light beneath his blindfold, looked towards the night elves and dreadlords locked in battle.

"Hmph! Nathrezim."

With a slight flap of his fleshy wings, Illidan's figure appeared behind Detheroc as if teleporting.

At this moment, Detheroc was busy fending off Dryad Lunara's anger-fueled poisoned javelins.

Although Lunara and Leticia's initial acquaintance had involved a somewhat strange dynamic, thousands of years of interaction had forged an incredibly deep friendship between them.

Even without considering the Dreadlord's evil acts of corrupting the forest, Lunara had sufficient reason to fight with all her might to create better conditions for her friend's revenge.

"Ugh!"

As Lunara used her javelin to restrict Detheroc's movements, a demonic claw emerged from the Dreadlord's chest, firmly gripping his vital heart.

"Bang~"

Before a terrified Detheroc could beg for mercy, Illidan expressionlessly crushed the green heart in his hand, and disgusting fel blood spurted out.

Detheroc's sudden demise shocked Tichondrius, Varimathras, and Balnazzar.

Although Dreadlords were not as powerful as other Burning Legion commanders, the fact that this hybrid demon could achieve such an easy one-hit kill suggested that his strength had surpassed the mortal realm.

This was indeed the case; Illidan had been one of the top five most powerful combatants among the night elves ten thousand years ago. After absorbing the immense fel energy accumulated within the Skull of Go'el, the demonized Illidan broke through the bottleneck that had plagued him for millennia, officially stepping into the demigod domain.

"Heh heh~"

Shaking the green blood from his hand, Illidan showed a cruel smile to the three startled Dreadlords.

"Next, it's your turn."

Malfurion remained in place, still somewhat melancholic, silently watching the demon Illidan hunt down Dreadlords within the demon ranks.

Although there were many misunderstandings and ideological conflicts between them, Illidan was ultimately his only brother. His expulsion of Illidan from the night elf race was not entirely for the sake of justice; it contained some personal motives.

If Illidan were to return to night elf society in this form, he would constantly live under the gaze of suspicion and disdain from others.

Perhaps the arrogant Illidan himself wouldn't care, but Malfurion didn't want his brother to suffer such treatment.

Having been imprisoned for a full ten thousand years, Malfurion didn't believe Illidan harbored much affection for his people and nation. Rather than forcing him to stay in the country, it was better to simply grant him freedom of action.

With his greatly enhanced strength, Illidan effortlessly cut down Varimathras and Balnazzar, like slicing through melons and vegetables. Tichondrius also had an arm torn off by his sharp claws, and his back wings were left tattered.

Dropping Tichondrius' bloody left hand, Illidan glanced sideways at Leticia, who was still relentlessly pursuing.

"The rest is up to you. May we meet again, brother."

"Swoosh!"

Flapping his fleshy wings, Illidan flew into the sky and disappeared into the horizon under Malfurion's silent gaze. Tichondrius' dying scream served as Illidan's final "blessing" upon his departure.