Robbie frowned slightly.
The thoughts of important figures are indeed difficult to fathom using common sense.
Windrunner Sylvanas, the future Dark Lady of Undercity, leader of the Forsaken, and Warchief of the Horde.
Now, the Elf woman with a face as beautiful as a flower gradually developed deep, narrow eyes:
"My ancient relatives, the Kaldorei, the Night Elves who wear monkey hats, rule vast forests and lands, the most powerful race on Azeroth. Look at what they've done! For ten thousand years, the Burning Legion has been watching with predatory eyes, constantly threatening the safety of Azeroth. Have they ever changed even a little bit?"
"Indeed, we Quel'dorei are a group of Mana Addiction, and in the eyes of the Kaldorei, we are hopeless. But we have always been fighting against our Destiny and striving to explore the mysteries of magic. And look at those Night Elves, they refuse to change, refuse the power of magic, hide in the forest, feigning piety, like a bunch of savage monkeys."
"Azeroth is like a peaceful farm, inhabited by a flock of docile sheep. Outside the fence roams a large herd of wild beasts, and the fence is about to break, but the lead sheep is sleeping in. The Orcs are fierce wolves; only they can awaken the sheep's wildness, forcing them to evolve sharp claws and fangs, arming themselves. The weak sheep deserve to be eaten."
Perhaps due to her excitement, Sylvanas's face was flushed, her eyes were sharp, and she spoke with conviction as she shared her insights.
She seemed to harbor deep resentment towards those ancient relatives, which explains why the future queen burned Teldrassil.
Robbie had to admit that, in some respects, Sylvanas was right.
The Night Elves ' lack of ambition has remained unchanged for ten thousand years. They know the Burning Legion is eyeing Azeroth, yet they have made no preparations for war. This passive behavior is highly questionable.
Ten thousand years ago, during the reign of Queen Azshara, it was arguably the most glorious period for the Elf race.
Unfortunately, the Night Elves, ruled by Tyrande and Malfurion, never dreamed of recreating the glory of the Kaldorei Empire.
"I don't know if you're right or wrong, but if the weak sheep that gets eaten is one of you High Elves, then you'll know what a tragedy that is," Robbie retorted weakly.
"High Elves will never face such a tragic Destiny."
Sylvanas smiled, seemingly confident, then her expression turned somewhat disappointed. She sighed and said, "I thought you could understand, but it turns out you're just an ordinary person. You've disappointed me, Robbie."
That's because you have no idea how cruel war is.
Learning from history helps us understand the lessons of the past. Robbie, who was well-versed in history, deeply felt the despair of war, as if he were experiencing it himself.
Sylvanas, she had not yet come to understand that sorrow.
Robbie didn't know where Sylvanas's confidence came from. He realized that the Ranger-General was cunning enough and vigilant enough that she wouldn't easily reveal her plans to outsiders.
"I hope you can change history and successfully save your people."
Robbie silently offered his blessings and bid farewell to Sylvanas.
Sylvanas gripped the Plague Potion as if it were her own life.
The Plague Potion was like a timely rain for Silvermoon City.
She needs someone's help, the Elven Prince Kael'thas.
After escaping Karazhan, Kael'thas immediately disregarded Medivh's orders.
He had no intention of going to Andorhal. He had no desire to see Jaina, much less provoke the harsh, rigid, and powerful Kel'Thuzad.
The handsome Prince Kael'thas entered the tavern in Darkshire to drown his sorrows, intending to seduce a few noblewomen and soothe his lonely heart.
In this unassuming little town, Kael'thas encountered a beauty, Lisa, the niece of Lady Ewa and a young girl from Lakeshire. The Elven Prince was immediately captivated by her, to the point of being completely infatuated and unable to eat or sleep.
The Prince felt he had found true love, and in his hundreds of years of life, he had never been so serious.
Unfortunately, despite the Prince's best efforts, he was unable to advance their relationship. Lisa was like a reflection in water or a flower in a mirror; she was charming and sweet-looking, youthful and lively, yet she always maintained a distance from the Prince.
Later, when the time came, Lisa, who had been staying at her relatives' house for many days, returned to Lakeshire.
Suffering from unrequited love, Kael'thas immediately followed.
Upon arriving in Lakeshire, he discovered that this was not a simple matter. Everyone told the Prince that there was no girl named Lisa in Lakeshire, and that Prince Highness had probably mistaken her for someone else, or that there was something wrong with his memory.
The brief encounter was like a dream; when the dream ended, she was gone, vanished from this world.
Kael'thas returned to Dalaran dejectedly, only to unfortunately run into Jaina again.
At that moment, Jaina exuded a stunning charm that immediately captivated Prince Kael'thas.
Power took root in Jaina's heart, sprouting and growing into a towering tree, which gave Jaina a transcendent beauty and an air of noble queenly grace.
The Elven Prince's tastes are always changing. Some say the best way to forget someone is to start a new romance. The Elven Prince is happy to use this method to alleviate his longing for Lisa.
Kael'thas and Jaina quickly fell deeply in love, and the two were inseparable, about to reach a crucial moment in their relationship.
His Highness received a letter from his father, the Prince, that Silvermoon City was threatened by the Scourge of the Undead.
Kael'thas dared not disobey his father's orders and returned to Silvermoon City with Jaina.
Inside the ancient Silvermoon City Royal Palace, in front of numerous council members, Kael'thas met his imposing father.
Elf Anasterian stared at his carefree, womanizing son, and couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. Naturally, he gave him a good scolding, Kael'thas stood obediently to the side, listening attentively.
Finally, the Elf asked, "Kael'thas, what do you think should be done about the Orcs?"
"Orcs?" Kael'thas scratched his head. He didn't have a clear understanding of the current situation, since all his energy was focused on seducing women. He just had the impression that Orcs were an ugly race.
"Some say we should kill them all, while others suggest we ally with the Orcs."
Faced with his disappointing son, the Elf King had no choice but to offer a word of advice.
"Then let's kill them all," Kael'thas said casually.
The Elf King was quite surprised. The councilors and lords below were all discussing the matter, some nodding, some shaking their heads. The Elven Prince's status was extraordinary, and his opinion had to be taken seriously.
"Tell me your reasons," the Elf King asked.
"Orcs are just too ugly. I'd rather die than sleep with an Orcs woman in my arms," Kael'thas said matter-of-factly.
A burst of laughter erupted below. The Elf King, his face flushed with rage, jumped up from his throne and roared angrily:
"Get out, you unfilial son! Don't let me ever see you again!"
Kael'thas felt as if he had been granted a pardon and hurriedly fled the Royal Palace.
In his room, Kael'thas unexpectedly encountered Sylvanas had come to visit him in secret.
Sylvanas, who was wrapped up tightly, untied the hood covering her face and mocked:
"Kael'thas, how many more years will you remain Prince? Ten thousand years?"
Upon hearing this, Kael'thas was startled; his carefree demeanor vanished, replaced by a shrewd expression.
"Windrunner Sylvanas, are you here to mock me?"