The Magic City of Azshara.
Queen Azshara sat on her throne, her eyes closed as if dozing. Below her, rows of Highborne busied themselves at various complex control panels, constantly feeding data back to the Queen.
At the very last moment, when Tyrande ascended the Altar to draw upon the power of the moonlight with her Demon Soul, Queen Azshara revealed the true plan, for which the Highborne had prepared for centuries.
The Highborne were unconcerned; everything was as expected. Only Illidan and Xavius from Mount Hyjal were somewhat puzzled. Looking at the queen, who was resting with her eyes closed, recuperating for the upcoming battle, Illidan stepped forward and asked:
"Your Majesty, is there really no other way?"
Queen Azshara slowly opened her eyes, a hint of hesitation in her gaze, and patiently explained:
"We cannot lose the moon. Every planet with life needs at least one moon; its gravity helps to deflect meteorites from space. You probably don't know this, but a slightly larger meteorite hitting the ground can cause a mass extinction. Our moon has been Corruption by the power of the Old Gods; we must take it back."
"But we'll have to make a huge sacrifice, won't we?" Illidan asked nervously. "All those Trolls, Tauren, Dwarves, Furbolgs outside—they all have to die."
"I'm helpless too," Azshara sighed. "We can't break through the Titans' defenses on Azeroth. It's much harder than defeating an Old Gods. If the Old Gods escapes with the moon, it will be the end of Azeroth. Fortunately, the Old Gods has ambitions for Azeroth. Illidan, this is the only way."
Illidan was somewhat reluctant, but he really couldn't think of a better solution.
From here, one can see Tyrande holding the Demon Soul on the Altar, and even the fine hairs on her face are clearly visible. At this moment, Illidan feels that Tyrande even more unfamiliar.
Azshara closed her eyes again; everything was proceeding smoothly.
"It's almost here, almost here. Queen Azshara and the history of the Highborne are about to begin their countdown."
Archaeus stared intently at the Demon Soul in Tyrande's hand. The bright Demon Soul seemed to contain boundless power, as if the world would turn to ashes before it.
The Troll Legion is ready, and the Azshara City, rich in treasures and magical knowledge, lies before them.
"Long live Tyrande!" one of the Trolls couldn't help but shout.
Archaeus saw this as a good opportunity to curry favor with the Moon Goddess, so he also shouted, "Long live Tyrande!"
The Troll emperor led the shout, and the generals Loa quickly followed, then three million Zandalar soldiers.
The three million Trolls shouted in unison, their shouts shaking the heavens like Thunder.
Wait, something's not right.
Archaeus suddenly realized this was a mistake, cursing himself for being a fool. Night Elves were immortal; calling her "long live" was practically cursing her to die young!
However, it was too late. Following the Zandalari Trolls' shout, half a million Tauren, hundreds of thousands of Dwarves and Furbolg were not to be outdone and joined in the shouting, the sound rising in waves and never ceasing.
Archaeus was pale, fearing Tyrande's wrath. Fortunately, Tyrande didn't seem to care and was simply carefully manipulating the Demon Soul.
The Demon Soul, imbued with the powerful energy of the moon, felt like a heavy burden. Tyrande's expression was solemn, and she dared not be negligent in the slightest.
What puzzled everyone was why Queen Azshara did not react.
Someone used magic to look at the Well of Eternity, and saw huge waves surging up from it, black water shooting into the sky, and a black moon appearing above the Well of Eternity.
This is absolute blackness, as if all light has been absorbed, appearing illusory and ephemeral in the human eye.
Upon gazing at the Black Moon, the Five Dragon Kings and Archimonde simultaneously changed color.
The Red Dragon Queen gazed at the mysterious Black Moon with a puzzled expression, unable to understand what kind of magic it was.
The other Dragon Kings also looked puzzled, staring intently at the dark moon.
"Sir, what kind of magic is that?" Mannoroth asked Archimonde beside him.
Archimonde, with an inscrutable expression, calmly nodded. "To utilize such simple magic to this extent, you truly are worthy of being my student. Well done, Azshara."
Mannoroth was completely confused, but he dared not ask any further questions.
Looking at Tyrande atop the Altar, she remained completely unmoved, treating the Black Moon as nothing, her expression utterly calm and composed, which earned her everyone's admiration.
"The time has finally come; the realm of Elune, is near."
Tyrande spoke, and thanks to the Demon Soul, her voice carried clearly to everyone's ears.
"Black and white, Light and Darkness, a future full of hope, the glory of the gods, come, Zandalari Trolls, embrace your great glory, do not resist, this is your Destiny, your good fortune."
Tyrande spun the Demon Soul in her hand and charged towards the three million Zandalari Trolls.
Three million Trolls occupied a vast territory, Archaeus did not understand what this glory meant.
The Demon Soul emitted a beam of light, which then split into countless fine threads that penetrated into the bodies of every Troll, including the hundreds of Loa. Archaeus watched as the threads pierced his heart, his heart pounding uncontrollably.
"Flesh and blood unite, the gods return!" Tyrande shouted.
The thin threads tightened suddenly, and three million Trolls were simultaneously thrown into the air. Troll bodies rapidly disintegrated and reassembled in a specific order. When the dazzling light disappeared, the three million Trolls vanished.
On the land where the Trolls were arrayed, an exceptionally large monster appeared. Its body was shaped like an insect, resembling a living mountain. It had no head or tail, no claws, just a large, round thing with countless mouths on its body.
Its round mouth contained layers upon layers of teeth—the fangs of Troll.
Three million Trolls and hundreds of Loa of Zandalar vanished just like that.
Apart from a few Dragon Kings, the Dragonkin were all terrified. The Satyrs on Mount Hyjal were in complete chaos, and the Tauren, Dwarves, and Furbolg were stunned and even forgot their fear.
Huln Highmountain stared in astonishment at the enormous, hideous monster. The Emperor Archaeus, who had just been chatting and laughing with him, had simply vanished. Before the gods, mortals were indeed nothing but ants.
"This magic is called Old Gods Transformation," Archimonde promptly showed off his knowledge to his subordinates.
"The Old Gods concealed a portion of their power within their subjects as a contingency plan for future resurrection. While Old Gods Transformation like Y'Shaarj and C'Thun only extracted their spirits during their transformations, leaving their physical bodies dehydrated and dying, Xal'atath spared even the physical body. Among the five Old Gods, Xal'atath was known as the Thousand-Maw Demon, as she had the greatest love of food. Trolls and Tauren from the Dark Ages were her prey. Other Old Gods used the Curse of Flesh to seduce, but Xal'atath simply wanted to eat."
Mannoroth seemed to understand, but not quite, and then asked, "Could this be the Moon Goddess's conspiracy? To resurrect an Old Gods?"
Archimonde laughed and shook his head, "Xal'atath is the weakest of the Old Gods. She's not even as good as N'Zoth. Azshara could defeat her easily. Did you see any reaction from Azshara City?"
Above the Well of Eternity, the Black Moon slowly rotated, seemingly oblivious to the resurrected Old Gods.