Malygos, the Blue Dragonflight King, was even more bewildered and secretly harbored doubts:
"Neltharion, the Black Dragon King, is extremely arrogant and looks down on us Blue Dragonflight. Of course, I refuse to submit. I have always stood with the Red Dragon Queen against him, and I would rather die than allow Neltharion to control the Demon Soul. Did some passing Titans trample on my head?"
Green Dragon Ysera standing nearby, pondered to herself, "White Stag Malorne is supposed to be the consort of Elune. Of course, that's just a figure of speech. How could two completely different beings, with unequal strength, become consorts? Even so, Elune wouldn't stand idly by while her nominal consort is killed by Archimonde. Something's not right."
The Five Dragonflights once worked with the Titans, and they are aware of the Titans' ability to alter the memories of all beings.
"Our memories have been altered; something terrible must have happened."
The four wise Dragon Kings reached the same conclusion simultaneously.
But the Dragon Kings are not simple; they know what to say and what not to say, they see through things but don't expose them, and they are wise to play dumb. This is the wisdom of being Dragon King.
Malfurion was puzzled as to why he had done so much for Tyrande, something completely out of character for him.
"There's another question: Where did Illidan go?"
Many of Illidan's memories have been lost or secretly altered, Malfurion desperately wants to find his brother and get to the bottom of it.
Tyrande also had some doubts. She had heard rumors about the Titans, especially Sargeras, the leader of the Burning Legion, whose body was larger than the Azeroth Planet. His body was covered in raging flames that could melt even stone, and was as hot and intense as the sun.
How could an Orcs with an axe possibly wound a sun? Why does such a ridiculous joke appear in my memory?
However, Tyrande quickly realized that the inexplicable problem must be due to my insufficient understanding; she didn't know that gods could alter memories.
In this Sundering, the Night Elf race suffered the most severe damage, losing more than all other races combined.
The Night Elves lost more than just the Well of Eternity and countless cities; their people suffered heavy casualties in the Sundering, and most importantly, their memories were altered.
The civilization of the Night Elves, the magical knowledge painstakingly accumulated over countless years, their exquisite art and elegant literature—all of this has vanished.
In the Suramar City, High Archmage Elisande was astonished to discover that he had absolutely no idea what the functions of the city's buildings were, and he couldn't recognize most of the words in the spellbooks and history books.
The Night Elf race retained less than one ten-thousandth of their original magic, regressing overnight from a super-magical civilization back to the Stone Age.
Only Queen Azshara and her Highborne can escape the Moon Goddess's punishment; they either hide in the distant Void or conceal themselves in the depths of the ocean, in places untouched by moonlight.
A small number of Night Elves who followed the queen accepted N'Zoth's power and became the Naga race.
The Night Elves, a great civilization, lost its legacy, just like other lost ancient civilizations in history. They could no longer continue their glorious past, and not even a memory of their past remained.
The gods, who possess everything, can plan the lives of insignificant beings according to their own likes and dislikes.
At the original location of Azshara City, Tyrande dispatched soldiers to search for traces of the Highborne.
In a dark, secluded valley, a tall, Demons- like monster slowly awakens.
This monster looked remarkably like Illidan, with a pair of enormous demonic horns on its head, sharp teeth, a ferocious face, a pair of tattered wings on its back, and powerful hooves on its lower limbs.
"Who am I? Why am I here? And where is this place?"
The monster looked around in confusion, its mouth and nose exhaling a Fel aura as it cautiously observed the world.
Sargeras restored Azeroth's natural environment, but it will take time for life to reproduce. The land is covered with scorched earth and burning forests, with not a trace of green to be seen.
"Am Illidan Stormrage?"
Memories of Illidan linger in his mind: his love, his brotherhood, his experiences from childhood to adulthood. The monster scrutinizes Illidan's memories with a strange gaze.
"A complete sense of unfamiliarity, like watching someone else's memories. If I had experienced it myself, it shouldn't feel like this. Perhaps I'm not Illidan. How did I obtain these memories?"
The monster sat up in agony, feeling weak all over, with pain all over its body. Its skin was covered with horrific wounds, as if it had been torn apart and then pieced back together.
Suddenly, the seal hidden deep within his soul was broken, and countless memories, knowledge, and magic flooded into his mind.
"Haha, I see, now I know who I am."
The monster's demeanor was proud and noble, like a revered deity descending to earth. He recalled the days he spent inside an egg, residing within Aman'Thul:
"I am a wisp of the will of the Highfather Aman'Thul, or perhaps an avatar of him. Long ago, I began preparations to smuggle myself into the body of a Corruption mortal, reborn within him. I deceived Sargeras and Elune. I secretly contacted the Legion of the Holy Light, and they agreed to cooperate. I will be the great Child of the Holy Light."
The monster frowned slightly, pondered for a moment, then shook its head and thought to itself:
"Unfortunately, things didn't go smoothly. I used the power of Corruption to possess Illidan's body, but Azshara sensed something and used the power of the Holy Light to pull me away. Azshara, being mere mortal, couldn't fathom the Highfather's plans; she only instinctively sensed the danger and thus sent me here."
The monster then revealed a smug smile.
"Fortunately, I successfully copied Illidan's memories. The light of Elune shines upon the earth, omnipresent. Azshara and her Highborne dare not show themselves, and the real Illidan must also hide. No one can expose me. So I am Illidan Stormrage, the once-in-a-millennium Night Elf race. Although I once served Queen Azshara, as long as I admit my mistakes, given my relationship with Malfurion and Tyrande, they will surely accept me again."
Gazing at the ravaged world, the monster revealed a deep-seated greed:
"Azeroth, once hatched, will become the most powerful Titans, potentially even capable of defeating the invincible Void Lords. I desperately desire this power, but the Legion and the Void are both eyeing it. I will rise as a mortal, drawing upon the magical knowledge accumulated by the many Titans of the Pantheon, to swiftly become the strongest being in this world. I will rule this planet, becoming the unparalleled Supreme. I will rightfully merge with the World Soul. I am the Highfather Aman'Thul, and I am also the strongest Titans, Azeroth. Who in the universe will be my match then?"
Having sorted out its chaotic thoughts, the monster figured out the whole story. Full of pride and smugness, it looked contemptuously at the moon in the sky and Sargeras's avatar hidden in the mist, a cold smile appearing on its face.
"Elune; Sargeras, the Betrayer; you are both under my control, mere pawns of my Highfather Aman'Thul. When I merge with the Azeroth World Soul, free the original soul imprisoned on Argus Planet, and reclaim my body, you will all become my prisoners, and I will torture you mercilessly, forever."