"Here we go again."
Anduin a wry smile and shook his head. "Seventeen ways to defeat the Draenei," Med'an, "Can't you live without bragging a little?" He knew his childhood friend all too well.
Many years ago, the human prince Anduin and the future guardian Medean, two boys, came together by some chance in a stinking, dusty swamp and shared a pure friendship.
Their initial crush was on Aunt Jaina. When the sailors talked about how Jaina and Arthas had spent a night together, they were both secretly heartbroken and couldn't sleep at night, feeling lost and empty inside.
Faced with the ferocious and cruel Thrall, the two agreed that he was a disgusting beast, unworthy of their goddess, Aunt Jaina. They vowed to defeat Thrall and rescue their goddess from her suffering when they grew up.
In his innocent youth, he enjoyed beautiful times. But as he grew older and more mature, he realized that defeating Thrall was just a dream. Thrall, the Savior, rose to fame and gained power. His beautiful ideals could only compromise with the cruel reality.
Jaina gifted Anduin a Hearthstone that granted direct access to the goddess's bedroom, sparking Med'an's jealousy and marking the beginning of the breakdown of their friendship.
As the two grew up, they realized the filth beneath the glamorous facade. The goddess in their hearts was actually a complete the Betrayer, Imp, and a shameless bitch who personally handed her father's fleet over to the Orcs to be eaten.
After Theramore was destroyed, Jaina was torn apart and eaten by Thrall wife. Both of them were secretly saddened for a time, not because of the fake goddess, but because of the shattering of that dream.
Med'an once met the imposter Jaina, wanting to clear the name of his childhood goddess.
As a result, he was beaten so badly that he was no match for the opponent at all, which was one of the psychological traumas of Med'an.
Childhood friendships fade with time. Anduin and Med'an have grown up and come to realize that friendship is nothing but a hypocritical lie. Like adults, they have learned to value self-interest.
Unfortunately, Med'an's personality hasn't changed.
To destroy the shipwreck, a simple Disintegrate spell would suffice; the ship would become a pile of useless rotten wood. Med'an wouldn't even need to lift a finger; the few mediocre mages Anduin brought along could do it all.
If one insists on boasting of having seventeen methods, the Iron Horde would certainly choose the most powerful spell. Powerful magic means it's easier to lose control. Med'an is a failed Savior archetype; his control over magic was inherently problematic.
Just as Anduin predicted, when the chief commander Volka heard about the seventeen methods, his wide eyes widened as he said:
"We, the Iron Horde, don't need empty talk; we need action. Little one, unleash your most powerful magic and prove your strength."
Med'an immediately regretted it. He wasn't even confident he could pull off the most powerful magic, but he had already spoken, so he had no choice but to bite the bullet and go for it.
Out of consideration for their childhood friendship, and while Anduin preparing to cast a spell, Anduin a reminder: "The Iron Horde doesn't know what your most powerful magic is."
Unfortunately, Anduin remained unmoved. His boasting also had an element of proving himself; he wanted to prove to his father Medivh that he was not a defective product and was superior to the Orcs of the Iron Horde.
Anduin shook his head and walked away; he had done his duty as a friend.
On the high ground by the coast, Robbie raised his binoculars and observed the flagship of the Iron Horde.
The Iron Horde's technology is relatively backward, and they cannot prevent meat from spoiling at sea. If they can delay for just a few days, the fleet will inevitably collapse due to insufficient military supplies. Robbie's biggest worry is Med'an.
Powerful mages are the most unstable factor on the battlefield. A single Guardian can Pain Suppression the entire world, Jaina can destroy a city, Med'an's strength alone is equivalent to the entire Iron Horde fleet.
Robbie's worst fears came true; a sudden, biting wind swept across the sea.
The world became a blur, with seven-colored rays of light covering the sea, shrouded in mist and haze.
Strange images appeared in the mist: ferocious beasts as large as mountains galloped across the plains, dense vines climbed up to the clouds, cities rose up on the earth, and never-before-seen creatures covered the ground.
This is a rush from ancient images, a special kind of mirage.
Robbie had heard that when powerful magical elements interact with the material world, various wondrous phenomena would occur, and mirages were one of them.
Med'an slowly rose into the air, powerful magical elements gathered, and purple Arcane energy surrounded him like a terrifying tornado, causing the heavens and earth to change color.
The waves surged and towering, and one sunken ship after another broke through the seawater and flew into the air. The broken hulls were stained with purple Arcane light and lined up in neat rows.
Not only were there a dozen or so old ships that had sunk to block the mouth of the river, but also many fishing boats that had been sunk for a long time, all of which flew into the air, thus forming a huge ghost fleet.
Jaina only summoned one Sea's Sovereignty, and breached the walls of Undercity. Med'an summoned hundreds of sunken ships of various sizes at once. Although the fishing boats were not very combat-effective, the fleet was impressive and quite intimidating.
Yrel was terrified; she had never witnessed such power of heaven and earth.
"Yrel, don't be fooled by appearances."
Could a fleet of a hundred ghost ships possibly match the fighting power of a single Sea's Sovereignty?
Med'an floated in the air, his expression extremely solemn, as he infused the decaying ships with magic.
Robbie shook his head. Some people just like to do these flashy but impractical things.
At the very front of the ghost fleet, Med'an stood atop the largest ship and successfully cast the ghost fleet's magic, letting out a long sigh of relief as the ghost fleet headed towards the Karabor Temple.
Med'an was extremely focused. He grabbed a handful of fine sand, and the grains flowed between his fingers, gradually piling up into a special shape, which was a model of the Karabor Temple.
That bastard is completely out of control! Robbie shook his head after seeing him. Does he think he's his Archimonde?
Archimonde's destruction of Dalaran was not a futile effort, nor was it merely a display of superstition; it carried a profound meaning.
Dalaran a unique place, a sacred place where mages have worked and lived for generations. The continuous casting of spells has long made Dalaran a place where magical energy converges, and the space is extremely unstable.
Archimonde, by observing the model and combining it with his extensive magical knowledge, discovered the magical patterns of Dalaran. Then, by manipulating one element, he caused a chain reaction, like dominoes falling, Dalaran was destroyed by his own magic.
The fact that Archimonde could destroy Dalaran with a wave of his hand is less a matter of powerful magic and more a matter of profound knowledge and understanding of magic, the result of countless years of painstaking study.
Karabor Temple isn't Dalaran why is Med'an posing like that?
Looking at the model on the sand table, Med'an revealed a contemptuous smile. He was extremely focused, concentrating on casting a spell, as if he wanted to emulate Archimonde and smash the Karabor Temple with a single blow.
"Kill him!"
Although Med'an doesn't possess Archimonde's abilities, Robbie could tell that he was preparing a powerful spell, and he was currently in the most crucial stage of casting it, just as Yrel happened to have a Particle Beam Weapon.