A time corridor stretching as far as the eye can see, countless Time Portal, only the gate leading to the destruction of Dalaran is carved with Demons heads. The Black Cat pointed to the Time Portal and explained:
"This Time Portal corresponds to the Burning Legion's invasion, a dark chapter in Azeroth's history. The Burning Legion ravaged the land, Thrall, Jaina, the Night Elves, and others became Legion accomplices. The only resistance Scourge, was falsely accused of being its Legion. Robbie, do you know the root cause of all this?"
Robbie gazed at the hideous Demons's head and sighed, "It's power."
Those who understand the times are wise.
Thrall, Jaina, Malfurion, Tyrande were all outstanding figures of their time. As any ordinary person knows, one must choose to be patient when faced with power, otherwise one can easily lose their life.
As a small Elite group of exceptionally intelligent individuals in Azeroth, surely they knew the disparity in strength between Azeroth and the Burning Legion?
History is not about passionate fervor and fighting to the bitter end even when you know you're outmatched; that kind of thing only happens in novels.
The Black Cat's expression was serious. "That's right, the fundamental reason is that we're simply outmatched in strength. The so-called Alliance and Horde fighting the Burning Legion together sounds exciting, but upon closer analysis, it's impossible. Thrall's Orcs had just landed on Kalimdor, Jaina's foothold in Theramore was still unstable, Night Elf race were already struggling against the Orcs. How could the three of them unite to defeat the terrifying Burning Legion? That's a joke. Facing a powerful enemy, victory won't be achieved through sacrifice and courage alone."
While flesh and blood, passionate blood, and a spirit of sacrifice are certainly moving, they cannot withstand powerful magic.
"You must be extremely cautious. I can't help you this time." The Black Cat said cautiously, bowing his head. "We cannot interfere too much with history. The time is not yet ripe. Remember, the Scourge harbors immense potential, representing the power of the Death Lord. If Arthas were still alive, the Burning Legion would never dare to invade Azeroth."
Robbie opened the Portal, and a strong smell of sulfur wafted out. Robbie closed his eyes, recalling the timeline of the Lich King's rise to power, which he had entered with the help of the Infinite Dragonflight, and his return when Archimonde descended upon Dalaran.
Archimonde the Defiler, the second-in-command of the Burning Legion, is hailed as the strongest walking creature in the history of Azeroth. Of course, this is just a misconception held by those unaware of the truth. Queen Azshara, who lived ten thousand years ago, could easily defeat him.
With Archimonde's sudden arrival, Arthas is likely powerless to stop him. The primary task is to defeat Archimonde and buy time for the Scourge to rise.
Robbie learned a great deal about magic during the reign of Queen Azshara ten thousand years ago.
Knowledge is the greatest Wealth. Robbie recalled the Old Gods Transformation taught by the Queen. Although Archimonde was strong, he was still slightly weaker than the Old Gods.
Robbie made up his mind, stepped through the Portal, and entered the timeline of Dalaran's destruction.
Tragic deaths, pointless sacrifices, just like the tragedies throughout history, Robbie stood on a small hill near Dalaran gazing into the distance.
A familiar aura wafted over, the smoke and fire of this era. Dalaran was shrouded in dust, and Archimonde's massive body, like a pagoda, could be seen from afar.
Outside Dalaran, the Scourge was slowly retreating. Faced with a terrifying creature like Archimonde, Arthas and Kel'Thuzad had to proceed with caution.
Archimonde devoured Thrall and Saurfang's bodies to ensure their loyalty, then casually tossed the two Orcs heads to the Dreadlord Varimathras.
Varimathras chuckled coldly, preparing to send them to the Legion Forge for repair. He carried the two heads, deliberately slowing his pace to inflict more pain on them.
Archimonde stared coldly at Dalaran. After Antonidas was killed by Thrall and Saurfang, the Orcs began their atrocities. Slaughter and bloodshed were everywhere, Dalaran, the City of Magic, was once again destroyed.
"A savage bunch of Orcs." Archimonde's voice boomed like Thunder, carrying an irresistible authority. "Leave those mages; they are a valuable Wealth. Fools, stop! They have an important use."
At this moment, only Archimonde has entered Azeroth. He needs the mages to build multiple Legion Portals to teleport the Legion's soldiers over.
Archimonde's orders had some effect, as many Dalaran Mages survived. They were forced by the Orcs and escorted before the Great Demons, looking dejected, like a flock of humble lambs.
"Submit, or die."
Archimonde raised his large, Fel hand, the power of Fel coiled around every mage like a venomous snake. These high-ranking mages and Mage Apprentices of Dalaran were utterly powerless against the great Demons.
"Great Archimonde, the Burning Legion is retreating, Frostmourne is in the hands of their leader," Varimathras said obsequiously.
"They're just a bunch of ants. They don't even know how powerful death can be. That weapon is mine."
Archimonde gazed into the distance and saw the retreating Scourge. He had just arrived on the Azeroth Continent, and his power was not yet stable. He needed time to adapt to the laws of this world.
Right there in Dalaran, the magical Nexus of Azeroth, Archimonde sat on the ground, beginning to gather power.
In Robbie's eyes appeared Point, Line, and Plane, and planes. Powerful Fel converged from all directions and entered Archimonde's body. Although the Scourge was retreating, they would likely be caught up soon.
It seems Archimonde absolutely needs Frostmourne.
Robbie quickly composed himself, reminding himself that this was no longer the peaceful and tranquil time after the destruction of the Horde and the death of Sylvanas. He had once again entered a terrifying era of war, where sacrifice and death were always a possibility.
Thinking of this, Robbie quickly used Holy Light Teleport, transforming into a beam of Holy Light and rushing towards the Scourge.
Robbie.
When Arthas saw Robbie arrive, he was slightly surprised. Robbie had lived through multiple time periods, witnessed the glorious Night Elf race of ten thousand years ago, and had undergone many trials.
Although his appearance hasn't changed much, he has become more reserved and mature.
"Robbie, hurry! Archimonde has arrived! Our plan has failed!" Arthas shouted.
"What if Archimonde catches up with us?" Robbie asked.
Arthas's expression hardened, and he gripped Frostmourne: "I can cover your retreat. Trust me, Archimonde can't defeat me."
Robbie shook his head; he knew that Arthas was no match for Archimonde at this moment.
"I have a spell that can stop Archimonde, but I need the Scourge warriors' help," Robbie said solemnly.
Arthas trusted Robbie implicitly and agreed without hesitation, "No problem, all the Scourge soldiers will cooperate."
The Scourge halted its retreat and began to regroup, seemingly preparing to confront Archimonde.
Before long, Archimonde regained his strength.
He slowly stood up and looked at the Scourge gathered in the distance.
The Scourge soldiers, a dark mass, covered the land, their numbers seemingly endless, but to Archimonde they were no different from a swarm of ants.
"Insignificant Undead, tremble before my power!"
Archimonde took long strides, charging towards the Scourge.