"Won't Sylvanas take this opportunity to attack the Kingdom of Gilneas?"
As a long-time adversary of the Forsaken, and a sworn enemy who knew Sylvanas intimately, both physically and mentally, King Genn Greymane would never believe such nonsense.
Even if Sylvanas patted her rotting chest and guaranteed it to his face, Greymane would absolutely not believe her.
What's the point of keeping promises to the leader of the Forsaken? Has his head been trampled by Kodo? Greymane can't think of anyone in Azeroth who would be so foolish.
Even so, Greymane remained restrained and politely addressed Tyrande:
"Your Priestess, I know Sylvanas very well. When she was Ranger-General, she was extremely cunning, but not treacherous. After she became the Dark Lady, the concept of honor vanished. In her eyes, there was only profit—the profit of the Forsaken. She needed frequent wars and deaths to bolster the Forsaken's forces."
Taking a deep breath, Greymane stated his thoughts. "I do not recommend going to war with Kingdom of Stormwind. This matter can be resolved peacefully. I suggest that each race in the Alliance send representatives to negotiate with the Black Dragon Princess."
"Negotiation? What a ridiculous suggestion."
Tyrande responded, her firm tone causing Greymane to frown. "We Kaldorei are peace-loving and did not wish to be involved in the conflicts of Azeroth, unless the goddess Elune herself revealed that terrible truth to me."
Greymane froze, his brow furrowed, and asked, "What 'horrible truth,' High Priestess?"
"It's all for the sake of saving Azeroth."
Tyrande, with a pious expression, spoke to the moonlight:
"You probably know King Varian's role in the Alliance and the Horde. Without him, Kingdom of Stormwind, which harbors a deep hatred for the Orcs, would have already gone to war with the Horde. If the Alliance and the Horde were at war, they wouldn't be able to unite against the Burning Legion, and you should know what the consequences would be."
Greymane lowered his head and muttered to himself, "Of course I know the consequences. In fact, humanity had several opportunities to eliminate the Orcs once and for all— the Internment Camps in Lordaeron, Admiral Daelin Proudmoore's fleet. What a pity."
Gilneas broke away from the Alliance because King Terenas built Orcs internment camps, which required high taxes. The Kingdom of Gilneas was unwilling to bear this cost, so it built the Greymane Wall to enclose itself.
Tyrande raised her voice, stood up, and waved her arms menacingly:
"Without King Varian, a wise human leader, Kingdom of Stormwind will surely wage war against Orgrimmar. At that time, the land will be devastated, and both the Alliance and the Horde will be weakened. If the Burning Legion seizes the opportunity to attack, who can withstand it? Saving King Varian is saving Azeroth. Don't you understand this principle, Greymane?"
"Save Azeroth?"
Greymane was secretly astonished. He knew that the leaders of the Horde, such as Thrall, Sylvanas, and Vol'jin, loved to say similar things.
He also understood the meaning: salvation implies destruction, and destruction is salvation; it must be understood in the opposite direction.
Now Tyrande was saying similar things, which made Greymane feel a sense of familiarity, as if he were facing a Horde leader. This made him wary and thus he made up his mind.
"Priestess Excellency, I regret to inform you that the Kingdom of Gilneas refuses to send troops to Kingdom of Stormwind." Greymane didn't mince words and directly stated his intentions.
Negotiations broke down.
Tyrande's lips curled into a smirk, her emerald eyes flashing with a mocking smile. The smile gradually deepened into a chilling cynicism, finally settling into an Evil and dangerous grin. She slowed her speech, speaking in a menacing tone:
"Greymane, don't you understand? This isn't a request, it's an order. The Kingdom of Gilneas had no choice. From the day you chose the power of the Worgen, you had to submit to the goddess Elune. And I am the goddess's sole representative in the world, which means you must submit to me."
Tyrande's right hand reached forward, seemingly grabbing Greymane's throat from a distance.
Greymane collapsed to his knees, clutching his throat as he struggled to breathe. A surge of madness coursed through him, and his consciousness seemed to sink into an Abyss, enveloped by endless darkness.
"Help, help, save me, please!"
Greymane struggled like a drowning man, pleading for his life in vain.
Tyrande smiled smugly and slowly released his right hand.
Greymane let out a sharp breath, panting heavily. All his strength had left him, and he lay sprawled on the ground like a lump of mud. He stared at Tyrande in fear, as if he were seeing a demon.
"Who helped you Pain Suppression the madness within you? It was the goddess Elune. Without the goddess's power, you would be a bunch of mindless beasts. King Greymane, do you want your people to become beasts?"
Tyrande chuckled softly, as if it were a witch's whisper.
Greymane broke out in a cold sweat and was almost exhausted. He had thought that the Malfurion couple were just a bit foolish, too simple and naive, which was why they were fooled.
Unexpectedly, they were the real schemers.
So, the people of Kingdom of Gilneas turning into Worgen was all a conspiracy by the Night Elf race.
Yes, after the conquest of Northrend, Kingdom of Stormwind suffered heavy losses, and the Alliance urgently needs to replenish its ranks with fresh blood.
The Kingdom of Gilneas, which intended to remain uninvolved, was attacked by the Forsaken and unexpectedly received assistance from the Night Elf race.
Greymane was suddenly jolted awake. Could all of this have been planned?
"Tyrande Whisperwind, Sylvanas Windrunner —one is the leader of the Night Elves, the other was High Elf Ranger-General in her lifetime. Aren't the Elves all one family? I thought I was a clever diplomat, but actually I was the fool. Why didn't I discover the connection sooner?"
Greymane closed his eyes. He knew the kingdom's fate was in Tyrande's hands; he had no choice.
"The Kingdom of Gilneas is willing to serve the Priestess at her beck and call."
This was a choice made out of desperation; Greymane's heart was bleeding.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
Tyrande laughed triumphantly and nodded, saying:
"Don't forget, Greymane, you're just a dog. Now, go back and prepare. The Night Elf Elves will split into three groups to attack Stormwind City, Westfall, and Shadowmoon Valley in Draenor. The Kingdom of Gilneas will mobilize all its Worgen to cross the Thandol Span, enter Ironforge from the Wetlands, and take the Deeprun Tram directly to Stormwind City."
Why divide the troops into three routes? This is clearly a major taboo in military strategy.
Greymane shook his head, indicating that he didn't understand, but he didn't dare to ask any more questions.
A dejected King Greymane had no choice but to rush back to Kingdom of Gilneas to prepare for the upcoming war. Pre-battle mobilization, personnel deployment, provisions, and weaponry were all preparations that would take time.
Having boarded the ship bound for Southshore from Rut'theran Village, Greymane hoped the ship would move as slowly as possible, ideally sinking to the bottom of the sea and burying him with it.
In his bewilderment, Greymane finally understood why Tyrande had split her forces into three groups. A chill ran through him, as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and he secretly worried for the Destiny of the Alliance.