In the Night Elf race, the worship of the Moon Goddess is always a major event.
In previous years, the sacrificial ceremony was held at the Temple of the Moon in Darnassus.
Because of the Battle of Mount Hyjal, and especially the momentous event of the alliance with the Orcs, this year's festival is being held on Mount Hyjal on an unprecedented scale to boost morale.
The full moon Elune, hangs in the sky, symbolizing the Moon Goddess looking down upon Azeroth.
Tyrande, dressed in a magnificent silver gown, ascended the prepared platform and, as usual, delivered a speech before the celebration:
"For ten thousand years, Elune, has protected us Night Elf race, defeating one enemy after another. We have suffered hardships, we have faced dangerous foe, but with Elune's protection, we have been invincible. The Burning Legion is attacking our homeland, and under Moon Goddess's guidance, we have found our most reliable ally: the Orcs."
Cheers erupted from below the platform, as countless Night Elves chanted the name of their Savior, Thrall.
Tyrande maintained her friendly smile. The orcs' enthusiastic support for Thrall made her feel uneasy. Tyrande hesitated for a moment; after all, the Orcs were the main characters today, and she should show some deference. She then called out:
"Please welcome the great Savior Thrall, to deliver his important speech."
Fandral Staghelm and his son disguised themselves and hid in the crowd below the platform. The two secretly watched Thrall ascend the platform. Thrall was wearing black Orgrimmar armor, carrying the Doomhammer, and had a friendly smile on his face.
"The Burning Legion will launch an attack tonight." Is the news accurate? Fandral Staghelm looked at the clear night sky and asked anxiously.
"This is intelligence from the Scourge, it's absolutely true." Valstann looked uneasily at the crowd around him. "Unfortunately Night Elves were completely unprepared; they've been deceived by the Orcs."
Fandral Staghelm's brow furrowed with worry as he said, "It's too late to warn everyone to retreat. Although we successfully got over 100,000 of our people out of Mount Hyjal, it's clearly far from enough. The Burning Legion probably knows about our plot, which is why they launched their attack prematurely. What should we do? Does Arthas have a solution?"
"The Scourge has prepared a large Teleportation Array," Valstann said in a low voice. "However, this Magic Circle utilizes mental power; only those who willingly retreat will be able to teleport."
"Willingly?" Fandral Staghelm and his son looked at the cheering crowd around them.
"Savior Thrall, Savior Thrall, Savior Thrall."
The cheers rose in waves, and many Night Elf girls fainted from excitement after witnessing the heroic figure of the Savior Thrall.
"How could they be willing?" Fandral Staghelm asked, his face contorted with worry.
Valstann whispered, "Arthas told me they'll figure something out."
Fandral Staghelm couldn't understand how to turn the tide in this situation.
Thrall climbed to the high platform, looking down at the countless Night Elf race below. He secretly took out a draft he had prepared beforehand and glanced at it. Suddenly, he felt a cold wind and almost fell to the ground. He grinned, revealing a cruel smile.
As the enthusiastic atmosphere gradually subsided, Thrall felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Forgetting his prepared speech, he began to speak without restraint:
"My father led the Frostwolf Clan to live in the icy Frostfire Ridge. The harsh natural environment forged the Orcs' tenacious character, and we dared to face any hardship. At that time, an Evil race lived in Draenor: the Draenei. The Draenei slaughtered us Orcs, treating us like slaves. They wielded powerful Power of the Holy Light and possessed advanced mechs and starships. We Orcs were utterly powerless to fight back."
The inhabitants of Azeroth knew little about the history of the Orcs Draenor World, and the lower-class people living in Mount Hyjal were hearing about the Draenei race for the first time.
But leaders like Tyrande and Malfurion knew what had happened in Draenor World. Tyrande frowned slightly, her heart sinking, while Malfurion beside her also felt somewhat puzzled.
Thrall's eyes gradually turned crazed, and he then began his speech:
"Until we encountered the Burning Legion, with the Legion's help—and mostly the Draenei's folly—we nearly wiped Draenei out. Hahaha, they've become an endangered species. The Burning Legion is our Orcs' benefactor, helping us escape Draenor and conquer Azeroth."
Below, many Night Elves were still shouting Thrall's name, but their voices had become much quieter.
"The Orcs successfully destroyed Lordaeron, slaughtered the High Elves of Silvermoon City, and tore the mages of Dalaran to pieces and ate them. The foolish people of Azeroth regarded us as Saviors —a bunch of hopeless idiots. After landing in Kalimdor, we encountered an even more foolish race—yes, you Night Elf race! You are even dumber Draenei, especially Tyrande and Malfurion; you are dumber than pigs."
Below the high platform, the people of Mount Hyjal were silent, all their eyes fixed on Tyrande and his wife as if they were looking at two stupid pigs.
"Thrall, what are you saying?" Tyrande shouted, about to step forward and stop Thrall's speech.
Thrall punched Tyrande away and roared:
"Tyrande and Malfurion's folly has doomed the Night Elf race. From this day forward, the Night Elf race are finished. We Orcs are the masters of Kalimdor. You inferior Night Elf race, you all deserve to die. Prepare for your doom! This is your last sacrifice to the Moon Goddess. Azeroth, tremble before the Burning Legion!"
A profound sense of loss swept through Mount Hyjal like a cold wind, and the Night Elf race awaited an explanation.
The Emissary, his head and face concealed, stepped onto the high platform, gently knocked Thrall unconscious with a single blow, and loudly explained:
"Evil magic has controlled the great Savior Thrall. People of the Night Elves, forget the unpleasant things that just happened. The Orcs are merciful, Thrall is the great Savior, do not believe the lies."
Another gust of cold wind blew by, shattering the mask covering the Emissary's face and revealing a ferocious Orcs face.
"The Emissary of the Moon Goddess, he's actually an Orcs?"
The Night Elf elves went mad; they didn't know who to trust.
Just then, specks of green light appeared in the sky, like a dense meteor shower.
"What is that?" the Night Elves murmured among themselves.
"Damn it, that's the Burning Legion's Infernal!" The experienced Veteran recognized the horrific sight.
"We've all been deceived. Tyrande and Malfurion betrayed us to the Burning Legion."
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Fandral Staghelm and his son shouted, and Tyrande climbed onto the platform, wanting to argue, when an Infernal descended from the sky, smashing the wooden platform. Caught off guard, the Emissary fell into a cloud of dust.
Tyrande rose from the ruins and looked around. Countless Infernal rained down from the sky, landing on Mount Hyjal. Without the protection of the Firelord, the dense forest was instantly ignited by Fel Flames, turning into a sea of fire.
A hand pulled Tyrande up; it was Malfurion, his face covered in dust.
"Tyrande, run! The Night Elf race are doomed!" Malfurion cried out in despair.
"No, this can't be real?" Tyrande was practically going crazy.
Amidst the raging flames, countless Night Elves wept and wailed in agony as Mount Hyjal was set ablaze.