Sylvanas entered Hellfire Citadel as a conqueror.
The Orcs of the Iron Horde lined up to drink the Blood of Mannoroth, and many Orcs exploded from their bodies because they could not withstand the brutal power, but Sylvanas did not care.
Mannoroth, the Pit Lord, is connected to the Void; his blood is Fel, virtually inexhaustible. Now, he follows behind Sylvanas, increasingly admiring the woman's competence and decisiveness.
"Your Majesty, I will use the Burning Legion's technology to transform the Iron Horde, making them a truly Invincible force that will sweep across Azeroth. I wonder what Your Majesty's plans are next?"
"Attack the Draenei in Shadowmoon Valley, or eliminate your thorn in the side, the Kingdom of Gilneas? My suggestion is the latter. That old wolf, Greymane, has been living a life of leisure for too long."
Sylvanas narrowed her alluring eyes as she pondered. Unlike Gul'dan, Sylvanas needed to be in control of the overall situation. Her biggest fear was the arrival of some Legion leader, such as Archimonde or Kil'jaeden.
Azeroth and Draenor are her worlds, her territory. She will never allow a powerful being to lord it over her, to point fingers at her, or to act arrogantly.
Women are usually very petty about this.
Therefore, she had to do everything perfectly so that the Legion could find no fault with her.
"Neither, Pit Lord Mannoroth. As you surely know, the key element of a war often lies not in your enemy, but in your allies. History teaches us that most wars are lost when allies betray us. With the battle between the Undead Tauren and Battle of Orgrimmar drawing everyone's attention, I must seize this opportunity to gain more power."
Sylvanas's gaze crossed the Dark Portal, looking towards her birthplace, Quel'Thalas.
"Silvermoon City, the Blood Elves, these are our next targets. I must ensure their complete obedience, so that they never harbor a single thought of betrayal. Mannoroth, do you have any suggestions?"
Mannoroth looked down at the proud woman, slightly moved, and said, "That's where you were born, your homeland, the place that gave you birth and nurtured you, where your people live."
Sylvanas nodded, her voice trembling with immense hatred, and said coldly:
"My people died at the hands of Thrall and Saurfang. The Blood Elves of today are the Betrayer and survivors of that war. Although innocents will inevitably be harmed, I can disregard everything else. I will guarantee the Blood Elves ' loyalty."
Mannoroth gave a sinister smile:
"Very well, Sylvanas. Your ruthlessness pleases me greatly. Let the Blood Elves learn from the Iron Horde and drink my blood. My blood is Fel, and you control the core of a high-ranking Demons; they cannot betray you. Of course, if you are still worried, you can let them drink your blood as well. Your blood, like mine, is inexhaustible."
Sylvanas hesitated for a moment, but then nodded firmly.
"Excellent suggestion. After that, we can simply sit back and watch the war between Cairne and Vol'jin. Then, I will begin my revenge. The hatred hidden deep within my heart has long since grown into a towering tree. The Orcs of Orgrimmar, the executioners who destroyed Silvermoon City, none of them will live. And the Dragonkin, the Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza, the Aspect of the Blue Kalecgos, the Bronze Dragonflight Nozdormu, and all the Orcs' accomplices—your doom has come."
Sylvanas's lips curled slightly, and she said in a low voice, "Of course, I won't forget the Night Elf race."
"Strange, what does this have to do with the Night Elves? Aren't the Night Elves and the Forsaken secretly allies?"
Mannoroth was puzzled; he couldn't understand Sylvanas's thoughts and felt that his mind couldn't keep up with this crazy woman.
Sylvanas's control of the Iron Horde spread like wildfire throughout Draenor and then to the Azeroth Continent, causing an uproar.
Opinions varied. Some said it was a symbol of peace for Azeroth, meaning there was no longer any need to worry about attacks from the Iron Horde.
Some say this was the beginning of disaster; Sylvanas was ambitious, and Grom Hellscream was just a harmless Kobold compared to her.
The one most deeply affected was Lor'themar Theron.
Lor'themar Theron, the leader of the Blood Elves and the core of the three-man leadership team in Silvermoon City, has always maintained a low profile and Anjing among the many brilliant heroes of Regent Horde.
He believed that the power of time was the strongest, and that when the heroes of Orcs, Trolls, Tauren, and even Goblins grew old, it would be his turn to rise to the surface, take control of the situation, and assume power.
A few decades is but a fleeting moment in the long course of his life. Why bother arguing with those barbaric fellows until he's red in the face, even risking his life? They're just a bunch of short-lived creatures; it's not worth it.
To keep a low profile, he claimed to be blind in one eye, presenting himself as a pitiful disabled person.
Although he often got the blindfold wrong, of course, no one believed that Azeroth's superb magic couldn't cure such a minor disability as blindness; it was just a way for him to feign humility.
Lor'themar's biggest worry was Sylvanas. After all, the Forsaken were a new species that had only been around for a few decades, and no one knew how many years they could live.
It is said that if one receives fresh flesh and blood, one can even live forever.
If Sylvanas were also immortal, Lor'themar would forever be subservient to the Dark Lady. To be honest, Lor'themar was terrified of the Dark Lady.
When Sylvanas was still High Elf, she was Lor'themar's superior and often reprimanded him.
When news of the Iron Horde arrived, Lor'themar, who knew Sylvanas very well, immediately guessed his old boss's intentions: Sylvanas would definitely take the opportunity to control the Blood Elves.
What should I do?
Lor'themar's low profile is related to his personality; he is often indecisive and lacks decisiveness.
Fortunately, he had two good friends: Ranger-General Halduron, who succeeded Sylvanas, and Archmage Rommath.
Lor'themar confided her speculations and concerns to her two most trusted friends.
"I know Sylvanas very well. The Orcs destroyed Silvermoon City, and the hatred has completely warped her mind. She will never let us go. Perhaps she will spare our lives out of old friendship, but she will definitely use the most reliable method to ensure our loyalty. Believe me, it will definitely not be a good method. You are my most trusted friends. Help me think of a way."
The masked Archmage Rommath was always taciturn, while the Ranger-General Halduron was flamboyant and shouted almost without thinking:
"Lor'themar, do not hesitate. We are High Elves, and the noblest blood of Azeroth flows in our veins. Sylvanas Windrunner. When she was the general of Silvermoon City, I admired her and worshipped her, but now she is the leader of the Forsaken, a decaying undead. How can a noble High Elf obey a dead man?"
Lor'themar nodded, then looked at Archmage Rommath.
Rommath and Halduron often disagreed, and the two would often argue until they were red in the face.
But this time, the two were surprisingly in agreement.
"Lor'themar, Sylvanas brings no friendship whatsoever. She will drag the Blood Elves into the Abyss of war. Perhaps you should consider returning to the Alliance and re-allying with humans and Night Elves. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"