Night Elves are a relatively benevolent race; they care more about the safety of nature than any other race.
The prophecy of Elune, filled the elders with dread. Although some elders offered differing opinions, one elder, who had studied the waters of Mount Hyjal for many years, suggested:
"Lord Tyrande, I have studied the waters of Mount Hyjal for three thousand years, and I have discovered that the magic of the lake can be controlled. As long as we continue our research into magic, we will surely be able to grasp its secrets and stop the growth of Nordrassil."
Malfurion solemnly reminded him, "Have you forgotten the tragedy of ancient times? The lake at Mount Hyjal will become a second Well of Eternity, attracting the Burning Legion's invasion."
"But we've rejected magic for ten thousand years, Burning Legion is now right on our doorstep. They haven't stopped invading just because we don't use magic," the elder said, shrugging helplessly.
Unfortunately, the dissenting voices were always too weak, and the belief in the Moon Goddess easily prevailed over millennia.
"The prophecy of Elune, cannot be wrong; we must take it seriously." An elder, his hair and beard bristling, said indignantly, "Enough said! The World Tree Nordrassil must be destroyed!"
"In ancient times, Queen Azshara caused the Sundering to shatter by abusing magic; we must learn from this lesson." Another elder chimed in, "The Moon Goddess has already laid this tragic future before us; there is no room for doubt."
The few dissenting voices were quickly Pain Suppression. This is the power of tradition. For ten thousand years, the Night Elf race have rejected magic. No Night Elf realized that this was actually self-inflicted. Compromise and concessions have never brought peace.
The elders quickly reached a consensus and fully supported Lord Tyrande.
"My lord, Fandral Staghelm will bring destruction to the Night Elf race. You must resume your leadership."
The elders were all convinced, but how Tyrande would reclaim her leadership remained a question.
"The Moon Goddess's prophecy cannot be known to ordinary people, otherwise it will cause unnecessary panic. Although we have their support, it is far from enough. We must win the hearts of the people and think of other ways." The elders expressed their opinions one by one. At present, Fandral Staghelm is extremely powerful, and there is no good solution.
Tyrande's eyes shone brightly, she had never been so confident before. She stood up, radiating power, and clenched her fists, saying:
"Rest assured, I will return with a powerful Legion, strong enough to defeat the Burning Legion and win the support of the people. I will force Archimonde to surrender and make him help us destroy the World Tree. From this moment on, we are all mighty Warriors, with no more compromises or concessions."
Tyrande witnessed Robbie's plot with the elders of Mount Hyjal.
Elune, was indeed cunning enough; she presented the Night Elf race with a truthful lie.
The World Tree Nordrassil's rampant growth ultimately led to the corruption of the Night Elf race and the destruction of Azeroth —a seemingly inescapable and inevitable future.
However, the Moon Goddess deliberately ignored the initiative of the Night Elf race.
Night Elves are an intelligent race. If they could unleash their potential and study magic, they could use it to understand and change the world. After all, Queen Azshara set an example ten thousand years ago.
It's a pity that the Night Elves' excellent talent couldn't overcome their stubborn traditions.
Ten thousand years of mental confinement may have caused the Night Elves to lose faith long ago. They no longer believed they could change the world and fell for the tricks of the Elune.
Tyrande is destined to wrest power back from Fandral Staghelm, and that is unstoppable, but Robbie realizes he has something to do.
This is Silvermoon City, the place of exile for the last remaining bloodline of the Highborne.
A colossal demonic shadow descended upon the ruins of Silvermoon City, folded its bat-like wings, and perched atop a tall spire, overlooking the entire city.
Although the High Elves were massacred by the Orcs, most of their buildings were preserved, but the city was inevitably desolate and silent, becoming a vast ghost town.
"Silvermoon City was founded by Dath'Remar Sunstrider, who was once a member of the Highborne."
The monster gazed at the ravaged Silvermoon City, lost in deep thought:
"I am Illidan Stormrage, and I will surely be able to find the memories from Dath'Remar. It's a pity that he died mysteriously after only ten thousand years. The lifespan of the Highborne is infinite. Was it murder, or did he die in battle?"
The monster tilted its head and thought for a moment. A gray mist appeared in its hand, gradually expanding to cover the entire Silvermoon City. The tragic scenes of Silvermoon City being slaughtered by Orcs reappeared before its eyes.
"How tragic! Ten thousand years ago, the Highborne wielded world-destroying magic, never before were they so utterly pathetic. Dath'Remar is a failure; the High Elves of Silvermoon City failed to develop advanced magic, becoming a lowly civilization that can only fight with bows and arrows."
The monster withdrew his magic, feeling utterly lost and unsure of what to do. Suddenly sensing something, he abruptly raised his head, gazing at the full moon, Elune, in the sky. The moonlight tonight was rather dazzling.
"I must have something to do with the Elune, but I can't remember many things." The monster shook its head violently. It heard suppressed breathing sounds; two small lives had sneaked into Silvermoon City.
The Orcs devoured the flesh and blood of the Highborne, after which the Scourge forced Orcs to flee through Portal. The Scourge pursued the Orcs into Dalaran, leaving Silvermoon City relatively intact and countless treasures behind.
However, with wandering Restless Souls roaming the city, theft is not an easy task.
The intruders were two small figures, a Gnome and a green-skinned Goblin.
"Believe me, my invention will keep those Restless Souls from finding us," the Goblin boasted. "I tested it in the graveyard back home; traversing the chaotic mass graves is like walking on flat ground. It's just a bit unstable and prone to exploding."
"Damn it, don't compare the ghosts of Silvermoon City to the lowly Restless Souls of your homeland. I've heard that some people have seen the Restless Souls of Prince Kael'thas's father, Anasterian Sunstrider. He was devoured by Orcs and wailed endlessly. God, I hope we don't run into him. He'll eat us up." The Gnome said anxiously.
The Goblin stopped fiddling with the device in his hand and immediately retorted, "No, you're mistaken. Anasterian was killed by the Lich King Arthas. One of my fellow countrymen witnessed it."
The Gnome waved his hand and said, "Alright, alright, I don't want to argue with you. Many thieves have made a fortune in Silvermoon City, but even more have become Restless Souls here. I won't be greedy; I only need a little bit of treasure."
The Goblins set up the device called the "Unstable Undead Shielding Device," and the two began their secret infiltration. Just as they approached the breach in the Silvermoon City wall, a tall figure appeared before them.
"Wow, you're so tall!"
These were the last sounds the duo uttered; the monster killed them without mercy.
He casually tossed the two small corpses aside, and a notice floated out of the Gnome's arms, attracting the monster's attention.