"Stop, Illidan, you savage beast!"
Tyrande arrived gracefully, like a goddess descending to earth, possessing astonishing charm. Unfortunately, she Frost, with a murderous aura, her almond-shaped eyes wide open as she glared angrily at Illidan.
"Tyrande, what brings you here?"
Faced with his beloved goddess, Illidan was somewhat at a loss, even forgetting to kill Broxigar.
Tyrande approached Broxigar, who lay on the ground, and upon seeing the horrific wounds on the Orcs's chest and shoulder, she flew into a rage:
"Illidan, how could you harm a kind Orcs? He was so merciful, how could you do such a thing?"
Illidan, his face flushed, quickly explained, "Listen to me, Tyrande, this is a beast, ferocious in nature, just like its hideous appearance. I did it for the safety of my people."
"Shut up! Stop talking nonsense! You're being too selfish. The Moon Goddess taught us that all races are equal. You're trying to kill an intelligent race; you're committing a crime."
"But this Orcs is a potential threat." Like any man in love, Illidan stammered when faced with Tyrande's questioning, unsure how to respond.
Tyrande turned around, facing Broxigar's pair of ferocious fangs, and showed a look of Mercy.
"An intelligent race should not suffer such mistreatment. Illidan, you have disappointed me greatly. It turns out your kindness was all a facade. I truly misjudged you."
Illidan stood there, feeling particularly aggrieved.
Tyrande gripped Broxigar's hand, a hand large and thick, with nails as sharp as a beast's claws.
"Be careful, Tyrande, he'll attack you. Don't go near that beast!" Illidan, concerned for Tyrande's safety, quickly stepped forward to stop him. Tyrande whirled around, her almond-shaped eyes glaring angrily at Illidan.
"Get out of my way, Illidan, stay away from me."
Bang!
A golden light descended, and Tyrande's Moonfire sent Illidan sprawling.
In Illidan's life so far, no one has been able to defeat him. Tyrande was indeed very strong when blessed by the Moon Goddess; ordinary Night Elves were no match for her.
However, Illidan is a rare genius who could easily defeat Tyrande if he got serious, but he couldn't bring himself to do it to the woman he loved.
Lying on his back on the ground, the Moonfire made his whole body ache, but what hurt him even more was his heart. He never expected that his beloved Tyrande would attack him for a strange and dangerous Orcs.
Robbie and Xavius, who were standing nearby, exchanged a knowing smile; this was a golden opportunity.
Tyrande's gaze sharpened, and she sternly warned, "Illidan, with me here, you will not harm this distinguished guest. Go back to your hut; you are not welcome."
Illidan slowly got up, his face ashen, and staggered to the side. Robbie stepped forward and grabbed Illidan, secretly giving Xavius a wink.
Xavius understood immediately and pulled Illidan into the bushes nearby. This was Illidan's most dejected moment, and also the moment when he needed friends the most. Xavius earnestly comforted Illidan.
Robbie's mind was racing. He sensed this was a rare opportunity, but he didn't know how to take advantage of it.
Tyrande crouched down, carefully examining Broxigar's wounds. Illidan's attack had shown no mercy, damaging his internal organs and leaving behind a strange energy that continued to destroy Broxigar's body.
Although she sensed the body's powerful regenerative abilities, Tyrande still realized that the Orcs's life force was running out.
Fortunately, Broxigar encountered Tyrande, a priestess of the Moon Goddess.
"Revered Moon Goddess, please hear my plea. I beg you to send down your merciful light and heal this poor stranger, for he is so merciful..." Tyrande took Broxigar's finger and placed it on her cheek, praying to the Moon Goddess.
In the still night sky, the hazy moonlight suddenly brightened, and Tyrande continued chanting, "Moon Goddess, with your mercy, your grace, and your love, grant me the strength to heal this distinguished guest."
A milky white light descended from the sky, the Moon Goddess's radiance surrounding Tyrande, who had become a goddess. Guided by Tyrande, the light entered Broxigar's body, healing his wounds.
The horrific wounds were healing at a visible speed, thanks to the power of the Moon Goddess. Xavius, who had been comforting Illidan, stared in astonishment at all this. He had long known that Tyrande was exceptionally powerful, but he hadn't expected her to also possess healing abilities.
In fact, Tyrande has never demonstrated healing abilities, not even when her own people were on the verge of death.
Broxigar coughed up a mouthful of blood, his wound healed, and as he slowly recovered, his consciousness gradually returned.
Krasus and Rhonin watched Tyrande heal Broxigar. Krasus wasn't surprised; he was a dragon and had lived a very long time.
Malfurion has been in a deep sleep for many years, so Krasus doesn't know him very well, but he knows Tyrande 'Krasus character perfectly well and isn't surprised by her actions at all.
However, Rhonin could not remain calm. After all, Archmage Rhonin had always been a winner in life and the focus of everyone's attention.
Unexpectedly, Tyrande ignored him completely, not even greeting him, while treating this savage Orcs with great courtesy.
"This is absolutely outrageous!"
Rhonin felt insulted, and a flash of resentment crossed his face, but he disguised it well.
"This is?"
Rhonin suddenly noticed a bottle of medicine in the corner of the table. Judging from its color, it should be a very common type of medicine.
While Krasus wasn't looking, he quietly used Mage Hand to take the potion into his hand, opened it, and smelled it.
"It really is Rage Potion."
How could Rage Potions exist in this era? Did the Night Elf race have such potions ten thousand years ago?
Rhonin couldn't be sure, but judging from the potion's formula, it was clearly from the same era as his own.
"Could it be Krasus? Why did he give me a Rage Potion?"
Rhonin was a rare smart man, and he quickly figured out the use of the Rage Potion.
"I see. Krasus is a Red Dragon. Although his magic power is considerable, his spellcasting isn't refined enough, so he gave me this potion. Since even Krasus couldn't stand it anymore... Hmph, Tyrande, you'll pay the price for your rudeness."
Even before Rhonin became Archmage, he was Dalaran for his exquisite manipulation of magic.
His spellcasting was extremely discreet; he could complete it almost with a flick of his finger in his sleeve, making it difficult for anyone to detect. Moreover, he was adept at combining various minor spells to produce unexpected effects.
Without even unscrewing the potion's cap, Rhonin quietly slipped it into his pocket, pretending to gaze at the moonlight. His target was Broxigar.
Broxigar had already regained consciousness. He hated Illidan's cruelty and drooled over Tyrande's flawless, snow-white skin. But Tyrande was healing him, and for the moment he was able to control his appetite.
Suddenly, a violent thought surged into his mind, Broxigar couldn't control his emotions. His eyes immediately turned blood red, and he opened his blood-red maw and bit down on Tyrande's arm.
Ah!
Tyrande's piercing scream echoed through the woods.