Vol'jin took a drastic approach, hoping to turn the tide in one fell swoop.
The cunning and cruel Trolls have always looked down on the Pride and rude Night Elf race.
For example, Vol'jin greatly underestimated Tyrande, thinking that he could persuade Tyrande with his silver tongue.
Unfortunately, he hadn't anticipated that Tyrande's Pride wasn't entirely a flaw; it was like an incredibly strong bulwark, firmly protecting her heart. Tyrande remained unmoved and stated directly:
"You mean the Troggs? We Night Elf race are not weak and incompetent Orcs. The Troggs's Dwarf muskets are no threat. Their muskets can't hit us. Our Sentinels can use the Troggs as target practice."
Vol'jin opened his mouth, unsure of what to say.
The range of a bow and arrow is generally not as good as that of a musket, and training an archer takes much longer than training a musketman.
However, Azeroth is a world of magic, Night Elf race use enchanted bows and arrows that utilize the power of wind, giving them a range far exceeding that of the Dwarf firearms, although this hindered the development of firearms to some extent.
Moreover, the Night Elves have no shortage of time. They usually spend thousands of years honing their archery skills, so it can be said that every Night Elf race is a master archer who never misses a shot.
"Rag City possesses Anti-Magic Array," Doras reminded him from the side.
Tyrande smiled and looked at Doras: "We Night Elves have absolutely no interest in Rag City."
Doras was speechless, glaring angrily at Vol'jin. Vol'jin shrugged awkwardly; all his prepared remarks were useless. Tyrande's Pride was simply terrifying.
"Your Excellency, High Priestess!" Vol'jin knew the chances were slim, but he had no choice but to say, "The Troggs possess the technology to construct Anti-Magic Arrays. If they are dissatisfied with Rag City and wish to expand their territory, they can enlarge the Anti-Magic Array, even covering the entire Kalimdor. At that time, there will be no place for the Night Elf race to stand."
Vol'jin's actions were clearly taking advantage of Tyrande's lack of magical knowledge. Azeroth is a world where magical elements are active, and the price to pay for banning magic in this world would be extremely high.
The wider the area covered by the magic ban, the greater the cost becomes. The Anti-Magic Array that covers the Rag City is already the limit of technology.
Tyrande indeed knew nothing of magic, but she sensed the insincerity in Vol'jin's words and said indifferently:
"It's just a mere Anti-Magic Array; we Night Elf race are capable of breaking it."
"Arrogant and nonsensical! "Vol'jin was speechless, cursing inwardly. "You Night Elf race have already rejected magic, what ability do you have to break the Anti-Magic Array?" But he couldn't point out that Tyrande's words were untrue.
Tyrande, with her stubbornness and Pride, once again seized the initiative. She surveyed the room, brimming with confidence. "We Night Elf race worship the great Elune. Under Moon Goddess protection, the Troggs cannot stir up any trouble. The fact that the cavemen were able to stop the Orcs' advance, though unexpected, is, in my opinion, the will of the Moon Goddess."
Oh no, Vol'jin's vision went black. He had overlooked the fact that Tyrande was a complete charlatan.
The faith in the Moon Goddess had taken hold of Tyrande's heart, giving her a tremendous sense of superiority and strong self-confidence. Vol'jin secretly blamed himself for underestimating his opponent and overlooking the arrogance of a charlatan.
"Tyrande, the Priestess of the Moon!" Garrosh stood up and roared angrily, "The Night Elves turn a blind eye to the Evil Troggs, and you are destroying Azeroth!"
Tyrande yawned wearily. "Give my regards to Grom Hellscream for me."
"I"
Garrosh was choked again; he felt all his muscles were completely useless.
Seeing that things were going badly, Doras glared at Vol'jin beside him, feeling sorry for his lost gold coins, and the three of them had no choice but to take their leave.
Although the trio returned empty-handed, Robbie was not happy.
Tyrande's strong self-confidence stems from her faith in the Moon Goddess, but it is also her greatest weakness.
According to information obtained from the archives of Dalaran, the Emissary of the Moon Goddess God are unusually active in this era, which is precisely what Robbie is most worried about.
The three returned to the inn. Doras roared and berated Vol'jin for his incompetence. Vol'jin could only silently endure it, while Garrosh looked worried.
After Doras finished venting his anger, Vol'jin took the initiative to admit his mistake. "I admit that I underestimated Tyrande, but this is just a setback, we haven't failed yet."
Doras stared at Vol'jin with a mocking expression, and asked with a ferocious grin, "I've had enough of Tyrande's Pride. I really want to punch her. I'm not going to suffer this humiliation with you anymore."
Vol'jin secretly winked at Garrosh frowned, then pulled Doras aside and said, "Since things have come to this, why not give Vol'jin another chance?"
Doras still trusted Garrosh, and with wide eyes, she asked, "So, Vol'jin, how do you need me to cooperate with you?"
"I need intelligence, everything about Tyrande and Malfurion, including their eating, drinking, sleeping, and even whether they have secret lovers—basically everything about this couple, the more detailed the better."
Inside a somber tomb, the ancient emblem remains spotless, as if it had been cleaned for years. In the history of Azeroth, this cold emblem symbolized a great kingdom.
The pure white moonlight shone through the round hole at the top of the tomb, enveloping the magnificent coffin in the center of the tomb.
"My messenger, awaken from your slumber." A loud and majestic voice echoed in the moonlight.
The coffin slowly opened, and a human man crawled out. His body, which had been like a dried corpse, was bathed in moonlight and quickly became plump and full, with a healthy blush on his face.
The man donned his clothes, submitted to the pure white moonlight, and awaited divine decree:
"You must go to Darnassus and persuade Tyrande to send troops to conquer the Troggs."
The man slowly raised his head, a look of confusion on his face. "The Troggs are blocking the Orcs' advance. I can't see what reason Tyrande would have to Troggs."
"Do you dare disobey my orders?" An angry voice echoed in the moonlight.
The man immediately prostrated himself on the ground and said humbly, "You have given me a new life, a kindness I will never forget. How could I dare to question your will? However, out of concern, although Tyrande cannot disobey your will, if she is unwilling, she may not be truly committed. I must convince her that this action is Justice."
The pure white pillar of light remained silent for a long while, then emitted a majestic voice:
"The fluctuations of time have arrived. Our enemies are interfering with the course of history, and the unexpected rise of the Troggs is a result of this interference. If the Orcs fail to land in Kalimdor, then the Burning Legion will have no choice but to withdraw from Azeroth. Without the Burning Legion's obstruction, who can stop the Scourge's advance? Who will protect Nordrassil?"
The man was stunned for a moment after hearing this, and he immediately realized the seriousness of the problem.
Convincing Tyrande to wage war against the Troggs was only the first hurdle. The next challenge lay in navigating between the Burning Legion and the Scourge, and utilizing the Orcs and Night Elf race to protect the World Tree, Nordrassil.
A series of problems overwhelmed the man, and realizing he was outnumbered and outmatched, fearing he would be unable to complete the task, he hurriedly pleaded, "Great Elune, I beg for more authority."