Archimonde was unwilling to accept defeat. The Legion had always made good progress in other worlds and had never encountered such a setback before.
Queen Azshara from ten thousand years ago, now the Scourge, Archimonde personally led his army twice, only to suffer greatly each time, which greatly displeased him.
"Lord Archimonde, good news! The Scourge has retreated."
A Doomguard arrived with news, loudly reporting, "According to our reconnaissance, the Scourge is retreating to the icy wastelands of Northrend. Only Sylvanas's Forsaken and a small number of grunts remain in Lordaeron."
The Scourge withdrew? Archimonde's eyes darted around as he asked, "Have you found out why?"
The Doomguard replied, "It's said that the Scourge expanded too quickly, with too many soldiers, and they ran out of preservatives. Their bodies began to rot, and only the cold of Northrend could stop the spread of decay."
"Just a lame excuse."
Archimonde snorted coldly; he knew exactly what Arthas was thinking.
Archimonde was very confident of defeating the Night Elf race as long as the Scourge didn't interfere. This news put him in a great mood, and the unpleasantness of the Fel Reaver production line quickly vanished.
"The Orcs have successfully infiltrated Azeroth. Thrall's reputation as the Savior must be preserved. Only in this way can the Scourge be stopped without losing a single soldier, preventing them from making any rash moves."
Without the threat of the Scourge, Archimonde was determined to win and, once again brimming with confidence, waved his hand and said:
"Burning Legion generals, heed my command! March toward Mount Hyjal! Our target: Nordrassil, the World Tree! Victory belongs to the Legion!"
Mount Hyjal, the home of Nordrassil, the World Tree.
This place is home to over a million Night Elf race, making it the largest Night Elf settlement on the Azeroth Continent. The Burning Legion has long coveted Mount Hyjal, and rumors of its presence have been circulating for some time.
Neither Tyrande nor Malfurion were wise leaders, and they did not make any prior preparations.
As the Burning Legion's army moved towards Mount Hyjal, war was imminent, and all Tyrande could do was kneel before the Moon Goddess and pray fervently.
"Great Elune, grant me an army bathed in your Moon Goddess light to sweep away the Evil of this world. The Scourge, the Burning Legion —they are enemies of Azeroth. Let your wrath utterly crush them."
Prayer is just prayer, after all. Tyrande's three days and three nights of prayers went unanswered by the Moon Goddess. Helpless, she could only convene another Night Elf military council to discuss how to fight the Burning Legion.
The Night Elf generals had been waiting for a long time, but Tyrande arrived late. Hearing the murmurs, she decided not to go in yet, but to hide behind the door and eavesdrop.
From a great distance, Tyrande could hear Fandral Staghelm's furious roar.
"If we want to destroy the Burning Legion, we must first eliminate the Orcs. The Orcs are the Burning Legion's pawns, a malignant tumor parasitizing the Azeroth. If this tumor is not removed, Azeroth will never have peace. I am willing to lead the Druid forces to raze Orgrimmar to the ground."
This fool is completely blinded by hatred. Tyrande shook her head. She thought Fandral Staghelm was very naive. The problems facing Azeroth now are not just about the Burning Legion.
Fortunately, Tyrande has gained an ally this time, Archdruid Malfurion. No matter the circumstances, this couple will always be the most reliable allies. Malfurion spoke slowly and in a low voice:
"Fandral Staghelm Fandral Staghelm, my student, you must be careful. The Burning Legion is coming on strong and unstoppable. Only by uniting all the forces of Azeroth, including the Orcs, can we possibly defeat the terrifying Archimonde."
"Absurd, how utterly ridiculous and laughable this is."
Fandral Staghelm showed no mercy in contradicting his mentor:
"Even a fool knows that the Orcs are the Burning Legion's loyal lackeys. Thrall is under the Burning Legion's protection. They've already wiped out the Troggs; now it's our turn."
Tyrande frowned slightly upon hearing this. Everyone present was aware of the Orcs' position. The reason for cooperating with the Orcs was to leave room for negotiation with the Burning Legion and to restrain the Scourge.
The Burning Legion is, after all, a notorious evil force in the universe. Even if they manage to defeat Archimonde, there's no guarantee they won't send more troops, not to mention the even more terrifying corrupted titan Sargeras. The night elves are powerless to fight against them.
War and diplomacy have always been intertwined, and often diplomacy can achieve what war cannot.
"The Troggs tried to destroy Azeroth, but the great Savior Thrall was so kind and benevolent." A voice rang out, clearly one of Thrall's mindless supporters.
Tyrande shook her head again after hearing this; it was blatant provocation that would enrage Fandral Staghelm.
Sure enough, Fandral Staghelm's voice was sharp and piercing. "Damn it, my son Valstann was eaten alive by Thrall, and you dare to say Thrall is merciful and kind? I hope Thrall won't eat you."
"Alright, stop arguing."
It was Malfurion again who stepped in to smooth things over. In Tyrande's absence, he was always a reliable leader, and his voice, which Tyrande trusted implicitly, rang out. "Fighting the Burning Legion is a major matter for the Night Elves. We must hear the opinions of others. General Feathermoon, what are your thoughts on this?"
Upon hearing the name Feathermoon, a shadow of gloom crept across Tyrande's forehead.
Without a doubt, the Moon Goddess Orbital Cannon Mage Corps led by Feathermoon is the main force against the Burning Legion.
But this is an illegal Legion that defies the will of the Moon Goddess. Ten thousand years ago, the Night Elves swore to stay away from magic. Although she has saved the Night Elf race many times over the past ten thousand years, she has always been a thorn in Tyrande's side.
Shandris Feathermoon was flamboyant and extremely Pride: "The Night Elf race are capable of fighting the Burning Legion. We don't need any allies. Orcs, Tauren, and the humans of Theramore —they'll only cause trouble."
Malfurion's voice carried a hint of displeasure. "Maiev, what's your problem?"
Maiev Shadowsong's voice was filled with sarcasm. "I'm just a lowly the Jailer. What right do I have to offer my opinion on this occasion?"
Malfurion, left with no other option, could only offer gentle persuasion. "Maiev, the Night Elves are facing a crisis, and I hope the Watchers can get involved."
Maiev chuckled, then her voice turned serious:
"My opinion is also to stay away from the Orcs. Thrall would be happy to devour everyone present, but I disagree with General Feathermoon's opinion. We can unite with other allies, such as the Dragonkin."
Shandris Feathermoon said coldly, "Maiev, have you forgotten? Alexstrasza, the Red Dragon Queen, is nothing but Orcs slave, a foolish breeding machine. The Dragonkin have never succeeded in protecting Azeroth, never."
Maiev refused to give in and retorted:
"General Feathermoon, I hope you understand that the Night Elf race alone cannot fight against the Legion. Only when all the races of Azeroth unite can the Burning Legion realize that this world is not to be trifled with."
The crowd started chattering and discussing amongst themselves, splitting into several groups that began arguing. Maiev and Feathermoon were locked in a fierce debate, while Fandral Staghelm and Malfurion were constantly bickering, which was utterly unbecoming.
Tyrande burst through the door and strode in, surveying the arguing generals around him.
"The Burning Legion is about to invade, and you're still here arguing pointlessly. Since you can't reach a consensus, there's only one last option: to inquire of the Moon Goddess's will from the esteemed Emissary."