The Night Elf race are bound by Mana Addiction, and the Druid's Path is merely a choice made out of desperation.
If a new Elf were to emerge without the bondage of Mana Addiction, Elf mage with infinite magical power and eternal life would be able to destroy the world, and the old Elf race would be destined to be eliminated.
At the very least, they will lose power.
This is an unacceptable tragedy for the Night Elves, whose lifespan is almost infinite.
For Tyrande, choosing to drag her people to their deaths rather than lose power was not a particularly difficult choice; life is inherently selfish.
Maiev Shadowsong also agreed with this choice, after all, she was also a beneficiary of the rights.
If Illidan hadn't fallen in love with Tyrande and had willingly accepted imprisonment, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
Power, the most delicious cake in the world, the greatest glory in life, no one wants to give it up.
Maiev led the way, and the deeper they went, the louder the screams became.
The Vault of the Wardens is home to many dangerous creatures, including Demons officers of the Burning Legion, Adjutant of Ragnaros the Firelord, and unknown Evil beings from uncharted worlds, each of whom has brought disaster to the Night Elf race.
Most of these dangerous creatures are either unkillable or require a significant price to eliminate, and can only be temporarily imprisoned in the Vault of the Wardens.
They were prisoners here, captured and sent to the Vault of the Wardens by the very source of that scream, the most dangerous prisoner in the Vault of the Wardens, the Demon Hunter Illidan.
"That treacherous Sylvanas, what exactly is she trying to do?" Maiev asked, puzzled. Judging from her own experience, Maiev didn't think Sylvanas was much more virtuous than herself.
Tyrande looked up and saw a gigantic Flame giant.
The screams emanating from deep underground made the Flame giant tremble like a mouse hearing a cat meow.
"An Imp," Tyrande scoffed in response.
"Because of hatred, Sylvanas hated everything in the world, including herself. She was a madwoman. It must be admitted that when she was a rotting corpse, we mocked her quite a bit. The gossip and sarcastic remarks behind her back were enough to drive a woman who cared about her appearance insane."
Maiev shrugged, seemingly unconcerned:
"Ten thousand years of relentless torment have ravaged Illidan. He's no longer the same. His strength is less than one percent of what it once was, and his mind has long since collapsed. He's nothing but a madman. I had intended to rebuild his personality, to make him as docile as a lamb, but now there's no need. Burn his soul, and let him go completely insane."
Tyrande smelled a strong odor of sulfur. A green Infernal was imprisoned in front of her. She remembered that more than a thousand years ago, this Evil Infernal descended from the sky, as large as a mountain.
If it weren't for Illidan, Darnassus would no longer exist.
The Infernal, now weakened to just over ten meters tall, huddled up desperately amidst the howling, like a frightened ostrich.
Tyrande chuckled dismissively, "Illidan is both bait and assassin. I hope Illidan and Sylvanas perish together, thus eliminating two problems at once."
The Broken Isles, Azsuna, outside the Vault of the Wardens.
The Black Cat, wearing a pointed wizard's hat and a gray cloak, sat on a broom that floated in the air.
Robbie stared at the cute-looking creature, wondering why the Black Cat had brought him to the Vault of the Wardens.
"This is the prison where Illidan Demon Hunter, is held," the Black Cat explained, licking its fur.
"The Vault of the Wardens were originally built for Illidan. In Azeroth, Illidan's power was Pain Suppression by the Elune. The opening of the Dark Portal gave him hope, and he fled to Outland, a region not under Moon Goddess's control. Unfortunately, he angered the Orcs."
Thrall would never allow his homeland to be occupied by Illidan. He allied with the Army of the Light and the Ashtongue Deathsworn, and incited a large number of adventurers to attack the Black Temple in the name of saving Azeroth. In that battle, Illidan's most trusted Demon Hunter Legion was sent on a campaign to Mardum, but even so, Illidan was still invincible.
"All the adventurers perished in the Black Temple, clearing the way for the Army of the Light, the Ashtongue Deathsworn, and the Horde. The Horde's main generals participated in the Battle of the Black Temple, but even they combined were no match for Illidan. It was in this battle that Sylvanas acknowledged Illidan's strength."
"Unfortunately, the arrival of Malfurion and Tyrande in the subsequent battle caused Illidan's will to break. People Legendary Illidan died in the Black Temple, killed by adventurers, but that's just a lie. The truth is that he was sent back to the Vault of the Wardens."
"What a pitiful man," Robbie said, but he didn't think Illidan deserved sympathy.
A love for Tyrande that lasts ten thousand years, unconditional and relentless, is almost pathological; Robbie simply cannot comprehend it.
Using the Eye of C'Thun, Robbie carefully scouted the interior of the Vault of the Wardens.
Deep within the Vault of the Wardens, on a high platform, stands a massive stone pillar.
Robbie saw the Demon Hunter Illidan. In his Demons form, Illidan was enormous, almost as tall as five or six Night Elves, with two thick nails piercing his shoulder blades and pinning him to a stone pillar.
Illidan was positioned in a "T" shape, his limbs were pulled by four chains, the other end of which was connected to pulleys that tightened little by little, pulling at his body and subjecting him to the agony of being torn apart at any moment.
That wasn't all. On Illidan's neck, arms, thighs, and other parts, millstone-like wheels were inlaid with blades on all four sides. Each rotation tore off a piece of Illidan's flesh, leaving the ground covered in blood.
A thick, barbed spear Illidan's heart, thrusting in and out with its momentum, each time drawing out large amounts of flesh and blood.
The Demons's body has an extremely high regenerative capacity, which makes Illidan's pain almost endless.
The torture was cruel and appalling.
Robbie felt a chill run down his spine; this was the torment Illidan, the Demon Hunter, had suffered for ten thousand years.
Tyrande is so cruel.
"Did you see everything?" the Black Cat asked.
Robbie nodded, his face pale.
"I sent you here to entrust you with the task of saving Illidan," the Black Cat said solemnly.
Robbie's expression turned serious as he assessed the Guards of the Vault of the Wardens.
This place holds many terrible prisoners. If we could secretly release just one or two, it would surely cause chaos. Taking advantage of the chaos, we would have a great chance of rescuing Illidan.
"No, no, you misunderstood me." The Black Cat guessed what Robbie was thinking, "Rescuing Illidan is not now. He has suffered for ten thousand years and his will has collapsed. What you need to do is go back in time to rescue him."
"Time is not linear, but a complex and intricate web. The past determines the present, and the present also influences the past. You need to go back ten thousand years to change Illidan's Destiny without altering the current situation."
Robbie hesitated, not wanting to take a pointless risk, and asked, "What's the point of doing this?"
The Black Cat stared Anjing at Robbie for a long while before saying:
"The Void and the Burning Legion are vying for control of the fate of civilizations throughout the universe, such as the Azeroth. The Void can accept two outcomes: either the Old Gods win, or the native forces of Azeroth prevail. The Burning Legion can accept the same outcome as the Void: either the Legion wins, or the native forces of Azeroth triumph. What neither the Void nor the Burning Legion can accept is the End Time."
Robbie was quite puzzled after hearing this and asked, "You mean, as long as the native forces of Azeroth drive out the Burning Legion and destroy the Old Gods, it will simultaneously satisfy the goals of both the Burning Legion and the Void?"
The Black Cat nodded slightly. "This involves the ultimate purpose of the spread of cosmic civilization. The Azshara era ten thousand years ago was the first opportunity for the rise of native powers in Azeroth."
"It's a pity we failed after ten thousand years?" Robbie said regretfully.
"No, Queen Azshara succeeded, but Azeroth was treated unfairly. That's why we secretly assisted you. This mistake must be rectified," the Black Cat said solemnly.