High Elves are beautiful, elegant, and virtually immortal; they are a near-perfect race.
Unfortunately, they suffered from Mana Addiction for a long time.
Because of their Mana Addiction, High Elves must maintain a restraint in their use of magic. Despite possessing powerful magical talent, they are forced to remain detached from magic, a situation filled with helplessness and pain.
Now, a descendant of High Elf, unaffected by Mana Addiction, has appeared before us.
The Elf King was overjoyed. Compared to the destruction of Silvermoon City and his impending death, none of that mattered anymore. In his eyes, there was only this little girl, the hope of the Elf race.
Medivh was also stunned. He stared at the little girl's delicate face with a greedy look in his eyes.
They are a perfect race with no Mana Addiction, unlimited use of magic, exquisite appearance, strong physique, and immortality.
Isn't this exactly what I need?
Thrall also noticed the little girl. As shrewd as Thrall was, he certainly wouldn't allow the enemy's offspring to grow up.
If left unattended, Medivh will probably take the little girl away.
What will happen then? Will he take her as an apprentice, teach her magic, or wait for the little girl to grow up and do something to propagate offspring? Medivh has long wanted to create a perfect race, which will inevitably threaten the Orcs' status.
Who knows what the future holds? Perhaps the Orcs will be abandoned by Medivh because of this little girl.
Thrall couldn't take the risk; the future was uncertain. He preferred to be punished by Medivh, and Thrall was quite certain that Medivh wouldn't kill him.
He tossed the mangled Elf king aside and reached out his Evil hand to strangle the little girl.
"Get away from me, you damned beast!" Medivh used magic to repel Thrall.
Killing someone under the protection of the Guardians is not easy. Thrall, who was Thrall back, fell heavily to the ground and immediately gave orders to Grommash Hellscream. Grommash Hellscream did not disappoint him.
Grom Hellscream took a deep breath, gripped his Battle Axe tightly, took a short run-up, and leaped high into the air. With a whistling sound, he swung the Battle Axe down fiercely at the little girl.
Forget about Orcs glory; all he could see was this little girl.
"Go to hell!"
Medivh was enraged. He wasn't going to be so lenient with Grommash Hellscream. Powerful magic struck Grommash Hellscream, shattering his armor and leaving him covered in wounds. He nearly chopped the old Orcs into pieces.
But that's not all.
Saurfang the Great gripped his Battle Axe tightly, hidden in the shadows, ready for action.
He didn't care about Medivh. As a modified Warrior of the Burning Legion, Medivh wouldn't dare to do anything to him; at most, he would be punished. He knew what was most important right now.
Grommash Hellscream's actions were intended to provoke Medivh, but were merely a cover. The real killer was none other than High Saurfang the Great, the symbol of Orcs glory and the King of Ambush.
His footsteps were as silent as a fox hunting its prey, leaving only a faint shadow on the ground.
A gleaming Battle Axe suddenly appeared.
Medivh couldn't hide such a sneak attack from him. He snorted coldly, and a dazzling light coiled around Saurfang like a venomous snake. At the same time, a powerful magical shield enveloped the little girl, protecting her tightly.
Medivh was determined to have her; the little girl was his.
Saurfang opened his mouth wide and spat out a beam of white light, which pierced towards the little girl like Sharp Sword.
"It's over!"
Medivh's heart skipped a beat. His Magic Shield was extremely powerful, able to block magical damage and impervious to physical attacks, but Saurfang was unleashing sonic damage.
Orcs' roars and battle cries have always been powerful weapons, not only boosting morale but also intimidating opponents. Saurfang the Great could concentrate his battle cries into a straight line, making the intimidation even more focused; this was originally his Secret Weapon.
For ordinary Warrior, sound waves would only cause a brief moment of disorientation.
Unfortunately, as one would expect, a young girl would suffer severe internal injuries and die from bleeding from all seven orifices.
"No!"
The Elf King, drawing strength from who-knows-where, tried to shield the little girl with his crippled body, but ultimately failed.
A human stood before the little girl. Although he was not as tall as the Orcs, he seemed like an insurmountable mountain.
The sonic damage was negligible to Robbie, who punched Saurfang the Great.
The treacherous Orcs was sent flying a great distance before crashing heavily into a roadside garbage heap.
"You are Robbie Capor." Medivh had no memory of fighting Robbie, but his intuition told him that this was a dangerous enemy. Trusting his instincts, Medivh immediately used Blink to escape.
Seeing this, Thrall quickly fled with the heavily wounded Grommash Hellscream. Not far away, a large horde of Orcs roared in.
Seeing that the little girl was unharmed, the Elf King smiled with relief and said to Robbie in a trembling voice:
"The future of the High Elves rests entirely on your shoulders. I've done many foolish things, but please, I beg you."
"I swear on my honor," Robbie replied.
The Elf King finally closed his eyes, his expression utterly serene.
Tens of thousands of Orcs stormed into the Elf quarter of Silvermoon City, plunging the Silvermoon City into chaos.
Kael'thas knelt on the ground, like a clay figure, finally experiencing the meaning of profound sorrow without tears. Kel'Thuzad completed his calculations, and the Scourge's catapults were set in full swing.
But it seems it's too late.
Sylvanas leaned against the doorframe, panting heavily. Her Mana Addiction had left her utterly weak; she couldn't even lift her bow. The once- Ranger-General was now like a lamb to the slaughter.
"Look at this guy, the once arrogant and domineering Ranger-General, how did he end up looking so pathetic?" Thrall chuckled as he looked at Windrunner, while Saurfang the Great had already surrounded him from behind.
"We are allies," Sylvanas declared loudly.
"So-called allies are nothing more than temporary allies with enemies. Without exception, all those who have allied with us Orcs have become our military rations, their races disappearing from history along with them. Why are we Orcs always so lucky? Because you are all a bunch of fools. You know, Sylvanas, from the first moment I saw you, I fell in love with you. I want to eat you so badly."
This was arguably the most chilling "confession" Sylvanas had ever heard. She would never misunderstand Thrall's romantic feelings for her, nor would she misunderstand the meaning of "eat him."
The voice of Tichondrius came from behind; the cunning Dreadlord had been hiding in Silvermoon City through deception and illusion.
"Hurry up and eat her up, I don't have time to savor her delicious soul."
In her moment of despair, Sylvanas remembered her sisters.
Alleria Vereesa are both fighting the Orcs, protecting Azeroth, and only they themselves are left.
"What have I done? Why did I associate with Orcs?" Sylvanas felt a deep sense of shame.
As the gleaming Battle Axe drew near, fear was buried deep within her heart.
The deadly axe blade sliced through her body, and she heard that familiar sound again:
"I'm sorry for that dishonorable attack, Sylvanas."
The Orcs's glory was tarnished; her soul plummeted into the Abyss, and she could not stop the Evil enemy.
Perhaps kneeling and surrendering to them wouldn't be so bad, Sylvanas wondered for some reason.
Sylvanas coughed up blood and collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by fear and despair. She realized she wasn't so brave after all. Why had she chosen the Orcs in the first place? It was because of her inner weakness and fear.
She finally knew the answer.