Countless Infernal rained down on Mount Hyjal, creating massive craters. Terrified Infernal rose from the bottom of these craters, their Fervor flames igniting everything around them.
In the Burning Legion, Infernal is summoned by mages of the Eredar and Dreadlords, serving as the vanguard and siege weapon.
Without the protection of the Firelord, the Infernal frantically absorbed Fire Elementals, their size rapidly expanding. They were emotionless killing machines, slaughtering every living thing they could see.
The Night Elf's main force, the Ancient of War, was weakened and unable to contend with the Infernal, quickly turning into clusters of burning torches.
Following the Infernal, the main force of the Burning Legion launched an attack, with Doomguards and Dreadguards entering the Battlefield and reaping the lives of the Night Elves.
Malfurion pulled Tyrande along, and the two hid in the shadows, shielding the Legion soldiers from the sight of the raging Flames. They had no idea where to escape to.
What should we do?
Tyrande was filled with despair. Once the sun rose and everything became visible, the shadows would lose their effect, and the two of them would be exposed to the Legion's sight.
Suddenly a tremendous roar erupted, and the couple looked in the direction of the sound to see Cenarius raising his hands high in surrender to the Burning Legion.
But the Legion's soldiers were clearly not at ease with the enormous creature, binding it tightly with Rune chains, while a Pit Lord trampled Cenarius to the ground, viciously ravaging him.
"My mentor, he showed us the way." Malfurion closed his eyes and said painfully, "Tyrande, you and I both foresaw this: Cenarius's attack on the Firelands would bring about the end of Mount Hyjal."
"It is Elune; we cannot disobey Moon Goddess will." Tyrande said helplessly, her voice trembling. "As Priest of the Moon Goddess, we have no choice but to devoutly believe."
The Legion's soldiers slaughtered the Night Elf race, cutting them down like vegetables. Before blood could even spurt, the corpses were already charred. Malfurion, gazing at the Night Elves ' carnage, said sorrowfully:
"That's right. We all know that allying with the Orcs was a mistake, and breaking the alliance with the Firelord is suicide. We only dared not, and could not, oppose her because we believed in Elune, and thought that Elune wisdom surpassed that of mortals and that she was always right. Now it seems that the Moon Goddess was deceiving us, and we have no choice but to join the Legion to survive."
"Should I really join the Legion?" Tyrande murmured to herself.
Cenarius fell to the ground, letting out a painful cry.
The Pit Lord viciously broke his limbs, but he seemed to have survived. If he were willing to accept the enslavement of Fel energy, he could become a general in the Burning Legion.
The Burning Legion will never accept the surrender of ordinary people, not the millions of Night Elves who live on Mount Hyjal.
Just as Tyrande was hesitating about whether to surrender to the Burning Legion, a miracle occurred from the Flames.
Those desperate, tormented Night Elves, some already engulfed in flames, barely clinging to life and awaiting death, suddenly vanished in streaks of white light.
"It is Elune, who is saving her people."
Tyrande wiped away her tears and mustered her courage again.
Malfurion also noticed the mysterious white light; within the blazing Flames, it was a series of miracles of life.
Sensing the fluctuations of magical energy around him, Malfurion exclaimed in surprise:
"This is extremely advanced magic, far surpassing all teleportation spells in Azeroth. It's magic that doesn't belong to mortals. Yes, it must be the Elune, she's demonstrating a miracle to us."
But what exactly did Elune, mean by first plunging the Night Elves into despair and then rescuing a portion of her people? Malfurion and Tyrande, knowing their wisdom was limited and incomparable to the great Moon Goddess, successfully extinguished their plans to join the Legion.
What Malfurion and his wife failed to notice was that those Night Elves who were qualified to transform into white light were all trapped in deep despair, utterly disillusioned with Elune, and even loudly cursing those who blasphemed Moon Goddess.
Those loyal followers of Elune, those who clung to their faith in the Moon Goddess even unto death, either fell to the Burning Legion's blades or turned to ashes in the raging flames.
Fandral Staghelm and his son transformed into two balls of Flame, concealing their bodies—a spell of the Flame Druids. The Legion's flames could not harm them. Fandral Staghelm gazed at the streaks of white light and let out a long breath.
"Our efforts have not been in vain. Thanks to Arthas and the Scourge, what should have been a catastrophe for Mount Hyjal has now been saved by at least half of our people. We will surely be able to rebuild our homeland in the future."
Valstann shook his head, saying painfully, "Father, don't be foolish. They've already begun to doubt the Moon Goddess and are no longer Moon Goddess followers. Even if they were willing to return, would Malfurion and Tyrande accept them?"
"This!"
Fandral Staghelm sighed helplessly, his spirits sinking once again. Even if the Night Elf race managed to escape this calamity, Malfurion and Tyrande would still be their leaders.
Just as the Draenei were slaughtered by the Orcs, it did not affect Prophet Velen's leadership position in the slightest.
The Prophet Velen's backing was the Army of the Light, while Tyrande and her husband relied on the Elune.
"What will Arthas do with our people?" Fandral Staghelm asked worriedly.
Valstann's gaze was blank as he shook his head and said, "I don't know."
Just imagine how the Scourge will treat these hundreds of thousands of Night Elves. All sorts of terrible rumors about Arthas surfaced in his mind, and Fandral Staghelm felt a chill run down his spine.
Even assuming Arthas was willing to treat the Night Elf race kindly, their sheer number necessitates a considerable amount of land to sustain them. Would Elune, truly let these the Betrayer go unpunished?
"I'm going to Nordrassil. It's heavily fortified, and the Burning Legion won't be able to take it so easily."
Fandral Staghelm's eyes revealed a death wish. Even if there was a chance to live, he would not surrender to the unfamiliar Scourge. He wanted to die at the foot of the World Tree like his predecessors.
"Father, this was given to me by Arthas. I hope it will be of use."
Valstann handed an unfamiliar flag to Fandral Staghelm.
The Tyrande couple, now emboldened, headed toward Nordrassil. Along the way, they witnessed countless Night Elves being slaughtered, vast forests being burned, and countless white lights disappearing into the distance.
Soon they arrived at the Heart Spring, a sacred place on Mount Hyjal guarded by Orcs. The spring water was boiling violently under the Legion's flames, and inside were countless Night Elf corpses, layer upon layer, a horrifying sight.
Saurfang the Great, the symbol of Orcs glory, led a massive army of Orcs to drive the Night Elf race into boiling water. Countless corpses Corruption the spring, destroying this magical sanctuary.
"Foolish Night Elf race, you deserve only to become Orcs rations!" Saurfang shouted triumphantly, ordering the Orcs to retrieve the cooked corpses and turn them into Orcs rations.
"Elune, I beg you to see this tragic scene, I beg you to save the poor Night Elf race."
Tyrande knelt on the ground, praying devoutly to the Moon Goddess. Malfurion quickly covered her mouth, muttering, "Damn it, don't make a sound. Do you want to die? Do you want to become a corpse in the spring?"
Just then, a corpse in the spring moved.