Azshara, the moonlight is bright, the full moon of Elune has never been so bright.
The thunderous sound of war drums rang out, and the Night Elves of Mount Hyjal were the first to arrive, followed by the Priests and guards of the Temple of the Moon. The Priests were dressed in magnificent white robes, and the guards were all uniformly armored and armed.
Then there was the Satyr Legion, who had been influenced by Fel; they were bizarrely shaped and dressed in all sorts of colorful clothes.
The Five Dragonflights followed closely behind, forming a crescent shape to surround the Night Elves. The Red Dragonflight naturally occupied the central position, while the Black Dragonflight casually stayed on the far left.
Strangely, the Burning Legion trailed far behind.
A large army of Eredar Mages, Doomguards, Felguard, and Felhound, led by Archimonde the Defiler, set up camp at a considerable distance from the Dragonkin's rearguard.
The Burning Legion seemed less like they were there to fight and more like they were there to observe.
The Satyrs and the Dragonkin worked together to build a tall, pyramid-shaped Altar. Gazing at the Magic City of Azshara, Tyrande, wielding the Demon Soul, ascended to the top of the Altar, surrounded by numerous Priests.
Azshara City remained silent, only a faint purple Magic Shield illuminated the city and the Well of Eternity, creating an Anjing stillness.
The three million Trolls led by Emperor Archaeus Emperor Zandalar were arrayed on the left side of the Altar, not far from the Black Dragonflight. Due to a severe shortage of lower-ranking officers, Archaeus and his generals were exhausted and sweating profusely, riding velociraptors to direct the troops. It took them most of the day to barely manage to form an offensive formation.
Hundreds of Loa in various forms, along with the Priests, were stationed in the central command position, all on high alert, awaiting only the command.
In contrast, the 500,000 Tauren led by Huln Highmountain were much more relaxed. They were positioned on the right side of the Altar, next to the proud Blue Dragonflight, standing together in a large, chaotic mass.
The Zandalari Trolls were not ready, and neither were the Tauren.
Moreover, the Tauren here come from hundreds of different Horde, Huln Highmountain is only the nominal leader. Many unruly Tauren Chieftains simply do not obey his orders.
The Legions of Dwarves and Furbolg were in no better shape. Such a war involving millions of people was rare in the history of Azeroth, and the Trolls, tauren, Tauren, Dwarf Furbolg had no experience with it.
The leaders of the various tribes reported military intelligence to Tyrande atop the Altar. Tyrande, clutching the Demon Soul tightly in her hand, listened absentmindedly with her eyes closed.
When Archaeus recounted how painstakingly he had arranged the formation, Tyrande merely nodded slightly, seemingly unconcerned.
After Archaeus finished his report, he encountered Huln Highmountain. Both kings simultaneously sensed the terrifying power of the artifact in Tyrande's hand. Tyrande made no attempt to conceal her strength; she was happy to demonstrate her power to the alien race.
"That's the Demon Soul," Huln Highmountain said mysteriously. "I heard it was forged by Archimonde the Defiler himself, using countless precious materials, at the cost of ten thousand Trolls and ten thousand Demons of the Burning Legion."
After spending several days together, Archaeus had a very thorough understanding of the boastful Huln Highmountain, but the terrifying power of the Demon Soul was real, Archaeus also showed him the rumors he had heard:
"The Demon Soul was created to destroy the Well of Eternity. We all know that the Highborne's power comes from the Well of Eternity. Without the Well of Eternity's magic, they are just a bunch of lambs to the slaughter, utterly vulnerable."
Huln Highmountain purred smugly, "That's right, Tyrande doesn't want to get her hands dirty, so we'll have to do it for her. I've heard that Azshara City is full of treasures, but let's make it clear, you Trolls can't keep them all to yourself."
Archaeus smiled slightly, "Don't worry, all we Trolls want is magic. Anyway, you Tauren wouldn't understand magic. As for treasure, half is enough for us."
Huln Highmountain glared at Archaeus with displeasure, his eyes narrowed.
After all, the Zandalari Trolls were the strongest, and Huln Highmountain could only reluctantly agree. His eyes darted around, and he Tauren, a race known for their speed, and added:
"Azshara City can be divided this way, but other Night Elf cities, such as Suramar City, belong to whoever occupies them first. You trolls can't go back on your Troll afterward."
The Kaldorei Empire is quite powerful, with many cities similar in size to Azshara and Suramar.
Archaeus didn't care about any treasure and readily agreed, though he secretly cursed the Tauren's stupidity.
The Highborne' most precious Wealth was their magical knowledge. The Zandalari Empire inherited the essence of this wisdom, and the mere Tauren will soon become beef on the Trolls' tables, oxen in the fields, and cows producing milk.
After conquering Azshara City, how can we find the magical heritage and firmly grasp magical knowledge in our own hands, preventing those covetous Loa from obtaining it?
Archaeus had thought of many things and made thorough preparations for them.
Huln Highmountain's eyes darted around. "I've heard that the Highborne are all exquisitely beautiful and make excellent slaves. We must first discuss how to allocate them to each other to avoid any disorder."
Archaeus readily replied, "We Trolls only Mages; the rest are yours."
Huln Highmountain glared with his bull-like eyes and protested, "Are you trying to fool me, this old bull, that I'm uneducated? Who doesn't know that the Highborne of Azshara City are all Mages? Besides, mage slaves are even more expensive."
Archaeus hesitated for a moment, not wanting to clash with the Tauren on this matter. "Alright, we only want the highest-ranking mages, roughly one-tenth of the total, but Queen Azshara must belong to us."
Huln Highmountain nodded. "That's more like it. We must draw up a contract to avoid going back on our word."
The Troll king Archaeus and the Tauren Chieftain Huln Highmountain quickly swore an oath by their respective gods and made a covenant. Of course, how binding these covenants were, only heaven knows.
Knock knock!
A sudden, thunderous sound of war drums rang out, Archaeus and Huln Highmountain hurriedly returned to their tribe's ranks.
Archaeus was with his generals, while Huln Highmountain stood with hundreds of Tauren Chieftains.
Tyrande slowly stood up, and all the races present fell silent, their eyes fixed on the Night Elf woman dressed in magnificent Priest robes.
Under the spotlight, high above.
Tyrande thoroughly enjoyed this feeling; she felt a sense of euphoria.
However, she must be cautious now, for her years of planning are finally about to succeed.
She gazed at the large group of Priests at the Temple of the Moon, her gaze lingering on Malfurion's face below the Altar for half a second.
She then looked at the Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza, who was filled with resentment and was still heartbroken over not obtaining the Demon Soul, and the nervous Black Dragon King Neltharion.
Tyrande raised her head and looked at the Burning Legion in the distance, especially Archimonde's tall figure.
Then, Tyrande closed her eyes, and after a while, she opened them, her bright eyes devoid of any distracting thoughts.
Tyrande raised the Demon Soul towards the bright moon. Pure moonlight descended from the sky, and the power of the moon continuously flowed into the Demon Soul, causing it to gradually emit a dazzling light, resembling a bright moon in Tyrande's hand.