"Something terrible has happened!" A Moon Goddess guard burst into the hall, shouting, "Ashenvale! So many people have died! It's a terrible tragedy! We beg the great Cenarius to intervene!"
Cenarius assumed the casualties were those of the Night Elves and dismissed it. He slowly sipped his wine, speaking with measured intonation, "For the sake of Azeroth, this is a worthwhile sacrifice. Go out and do not disturb our distinguished guest."
Eitrigg, upon hearing this, wore a nonchalant expression and said dismissively, "Making a fuss over nothing. You Night Elves are so boring. It's just a few dead people. We Orcs have never cared about sacrifices."
Cenarius showed an expression of admiration, then turned to his guards and said, "See that? How great the Orcs! They never fear death. They are worthy of the Night Elf race' emulation. And look at you all, it's truly heartbreaking."
The Moon Goddess Guard was stunned for a long while, then blinked and his expression softened. "I admire you so much! You truly are valiant Orcs. The Warsong Clan suffered heavy losses in Ashenvale, and even Grom Hellscream was captured!"
Eitrigg was shocked and jumped to his feet. "What? Say it again!"
Seeing Eitrigg's exasperated state, the Moon Goddess's guard casually remarked, "It's just that some Orcs died; it's nothing serious."
Eitrigg, his face pale with rage, roared at Cenarius, "This is blatant betrayal! This is a war crime that destroyed Azeroth! Noble Orcs should be treated like this! I demand that the Night Elves immediately punish those responsible; they should all be executed!"
Upon hearing Cenarius slammed his fist on the table in anger and stood up, declaring with righteous indignation:
"The Night Elves of Ashenvale have disappointed me greatly. How could they treat friendly Orcs like this? Eitrigg, rest assured, I swear in the name of the Moon Goddess, I will avenge the Orcs."
Eitrigg gritted his teeth and urged, "Cenarius, the Orcs are suffering terribly. There is no time to lose. Please go to Ashenvale immediately and save the great Warsong Clan."
Cenarius nodded solemnly. He considered himself to represent the will of the Moon Goddess and was of unparalleled prestige among the Night Elf race. No one dared to disobey his orders, so he led only a few guards.
Ashenvale, Astranaar.
The Night Elves defeated the invading Warsong Clan with minimal losses, undoubtedly a great victory.
But the captains, including Alaina Radiant Star, looked grim. They had sent Sentinels to Darnassus for help, only to be met with indifference, as if they were a group of abandoned children.
"We worship the Elune, and we have served her for ten thousand years." Alaina looked at Robbie with an innocent yet aggrieved expression. "My Emissary, why does Cenarius treat us this way?"
Robbie said solemnly, "Alaina, although your faith is incredibly devout, in these ten thousand years, the Night Elf race have faced numerous crises. Has the Elune ever offered a helping hand?"
Alaina tilted her head and thought for a moment. There was no need to consult history; Night Elves all had long lifespans. She could simply search through their memories. After Robbie's reminder, Alaina showed a look of surprise:
"Yes, we worship the Moon Goddess, but in these ten thousand years, she has never helped us. I still remember the War of the Shifting Sands a thousand years ago, when the Night Elves faced life and death. We prayed fervently to the Moon Goddess, but there was no response. It was only through the heroic struggle of our people, and the countless sacrifices of their blood, that we finally achieved victory."
Robbie placed his right hand on his chest and said, "You know nothing of faith. The true Elune is not the distant moon in the sky, but exists in the heart of every Night Elf. Our unwavering faith, our protection of our people, our valiant battles—this is the Moon Goddess in the hearts of the Night Elves. The high and mighty gods never care about the lives of mortals; they merely use mortals to achieve their own goals, never considering giving or exchanging anything. Gods are always cold-blooded and ruthless."
Alaina looked at Robbie with surprise. "You don't seem like the Emissary of the Moon Goddess."
Robbie shook his head. "No, compared to those illusory Emissary, only I can guide you to find the true Elune."
Alaina sat on a bench, her head in her hands, and said worriedly, "Cenarius is coming. He will definitely not let this go. If he convicts us, we will not be able to explain ourselves to our people. What should we do? Do we really have to kill him?"
Robbie, prepared for this, smiled confidently and said, "It's alright. If the Night Elves kill Cenarius, it will give others grounds for criticism. Let the Orcs kill him. Cenarius claims to be the Legitimate Son of the Moon Goddess, but even Elune, wouldn't dare seek revenge against the Orcs. She's just a cowardly deity."
Grom Hellscream was a dangerous old Orcs. The Night Elves bound him tightly with sturdy chains and threw him into a dry well. The exhausted Grommash Hellscream had no intention of escaping.
A few raindrops fell into the dry well, Grommash Hellscream became more awake. He suddenly noticed that the chains binding him were exquisitely crafted, with intricate openwork patterns—a beautiful work of art.
Because of the openwork technique, the chain wasn't very strong, and Grommash Hellscream to break free, the chain snapped.
"I'd heard that Night Elves liked flashy but impractical things, and it seems I was right—a bunch of fools."
Grommash Hellscream pricked up his ears, listening to the sounds above; the ground was completely silent.
He quietly climbed up the dry well, and couldn't see a single guard around him. Grommash Hellscream sensed a familiar killing intent and found his weapon, Gorehowl, in a room not far away.
"How strange, are the Night Elves ' defenses so lax?" Grommash Hellscream couldn't believe his good fortune. He surveyed his surroundings, then charged in one direction, remembering there was a river not far away.
He could enter the Barrens simply by going downstream; he dared not venture into the dense forest, lest he leave a trace and be caught by the Night Elves.
Cenarius in Astranaar with a few guards riding on Hippogryph. It should be noted that Cenarius was so large that it took four Hippogryph to carry Cenarius.
During the landing, the four Hippogryph didn't coordinate well, and Cenarius fell flat on his face, his head hitting a large rock. He was dizzy and his vision was blurry.
Cenarius a torrent of curses when the four Hippogryph vanished, and not a single guard remained by his side.
"Strange, where is this place?"
Cenarius found himself near a river, and the surroundings seemed shrouded in mist, making it difficult to see clearly.
Cenarius, a Demigod with advanced Druid magic, was about to ask a nearby tree for directions when he was surprised to find that his magic was no longer working.
"What exactly is going on?"
Cenarius sensed something was wrong. Deep within the mist, he saw a blurry figure running towards him.
As he drew closer, he could see clearly that it was a robust old Orcs with bloodshot eyes, carrying a terrifying Battle Axe. Could it be Grommash Hellscream? Cenarius hurriedly waved to greet him.
In the mist, Grommash Hellscream vaguely saw a strange four-legged creature baring its fangs and claws at him.
Grommash Hellscream was startled; the pursuers were fast! He immediately went into berserk mode, raised his Battle Axe high, and slashed viciously.