Robbie felt the deep malice of history once again. He had done his best, but unfortunately, he still could not change history. The Night Elves were destined to lose, and Archimonde would inevitably ascend the World Tree.
Although the Night Elves did their best to destroy the equipment, a small number still managed to leak out. Kalimdor's richest man, Doras, bought a set at a high price, made some simple modifications, and added a pair of Pit Lord fangs to his shoulders.
Doras gifted this armor to Garrosh, thus cementing Garrosh's title as the Invincible war god. He was unstoppable on the Battlefield, slaying countless Night Elf race and ultimately helping him ascend to the position of Warchief.
However, Robbie's plan was aimed at Archimonde; helping the Night Elf race was just a side effect.
One hundred sets of high-grade armor are needed to exchange for a single gem from Mount Hyjal.
This makes gemstones from Ancient Gem Veins exceptionally precious, effectively driving up their prices.
Although it was the Orcs Corruption the roots of the World Tree, creating the Ancient Gem Veins, even Archimonde and Thrall were unaware of the cause and effect.
Everyone speculated that this was Nordrassil's protective mechanism, a necessity for crafting top-tier magical equipment, and that if used to forge weapons, it might surpass Ashbringer.
Unfortunately, the Night Elves, who reject magic, cannot use it.
If the Burning Legion truly destroys the World Tree, this Magic Gem will immediately become unavailable.
After processing and refining, the Scourge extracted the essence of one hundred gems and condensed it into one. Robbie took out a few and put them up for auction at the Goblin neutral auction house, where they immediately sold for astronomical prices.
The buyers' identities are terrifying; some are representatives of the Army of the Light, while others are mysterious Void forces from the Tomb of Sargeras. They are unaware that the gems have been purified, and the purity of the magic they contain is maddening.
Archimonde really wanted to buy one, but unfortunately his offer was simply not competitive.
As a gem that is about to become extinct, its intrinsic value is secondary. All the major powers are researching the gem itself, hoping to mass-produce it, which would mean being able to continuously create Ashbringers.
The plan was initially completed. Robbie was worried that Wrath of Nordrassil would not be able to kill Archimonde, which is why the Gem Project came about, and why the caravan of three hundred Vrykul warriors was formed.
After all, even the Guardian Medivh knew about the Wrath of Nordrassil, so how could Archimonde, who was already on guard, fall for it?
After all the equipment was destroyed, Tyrande finally breathed a sigh of relief, Night Elves began to expel the Vrykul from the fortress.
Unfortunately, the Vrykul caravan's camp was protected by magic. Once inside, they were trapped in a maze and inexplicably walked out of the entrance. The Night Elves, who did not understand magic, could not break the maze and could only send out a large force to surround them.
When it was time to rest, Tyrande and Malfurion lay on the edge of the bed, their minds in turmoil.
There was considerable opposition within the Night Elves to the destruction of the equipment, but unfortunately, they managed to Pain Suppression all.
Tyrande stared at the ceiling above her head, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
She glanced at Malfurion, who was also tossing and turning, and asked, "Are we really doing the right thing?"
"What are you worried about, Tyrande?" Malfurion asked, equally conflicted.
Tyrande's eyes widened, and she said in confusion, "I'm worried about Archimonde and Medivh. What if they don't keep their promise? If General Feathermoon's Secret Mage Corps is wiped out, we Night Elves will truly be finished. As for the protection of the Elune, you and I both know how slim that is, a hopeless and extravagant hope."
Malfurion turned to the side and said seriously:
"For the Night Elves, this is a gamble on their racial Destiny. Archimonde and Medivh kept their promise; the Night Elves would survive if they broke it. If they did, the Night Elves would face extinction. But for us, this is our only chance to hold onto power. Even if the Night Elf race are wiped out, we still have a way to survive with our strength."
Tyrande understood this principle deeply: the safety of the race versus personal power—everyone had their own scales to Scales the relative importance of each.
Just as they all knew that if Night Elves wanted to become stronger, they had to study magic.
But even though we know many things are right, we just can't do them.
Losing power is like having a piece of your heart cut out; it really hurts.
"Tyrande, Malfurion, I finally know what kind of people you are. Have you ever considered your people? You have delayed the Night Elves for ten thousand years. You are the sinners of the Night Elves."
A familiar voice echoed in the room; this was Tyrande's bedroom, the most heavily guarded place in the entire fortress.
Malfurion looked up in surprise and saw a familiar figure.
"Valstann Fandral Staghelm, it's you! Damn it, how did you get in here?" Malfurion was about to call for his guards when he found himself unable to move, bound tightly by a root.
"Stop shouting, it's useless, this room has been blocked." Valstann's eyes were filled with bloody tears, making him look somewhat terrifying. He was crying for the future of the Night Elves.
"Great Elune, grant me boundless power to destroy the Evil before me." Tyrande knew that Valstann had become Undead of the Scourge, and hurriedly prayed to Elune.
Unfortunately, Elune's power vanished without a trace, and her roots temporarily sealed the power within her.
Valstann wiped the blood and tears from his face and said:
"It's no use, Tyrande. Even the Dragon Aspects couldn't resist my Entangling Roots. This is the allure of magic, the power you've always rejected. Its power is immense, its beauty mesmerizing. If Night Elves learned magic, we wouldn't need to fear the Burning Legion's invasion. In ten thousand precious years, we might have already left Azeroth, explored the secrets of the universe, and dominated a star system."
Malfurion sensed something was wrong; Valstann's strength was beyond his imagination, far beyond his ability to contend with. He quickly appealed to familial affection. "Valstann, don't forget, I am your father's mentor; I watched you grow up."
Valstann wept bitterly, sobbing softly:
"I'm not here to kill you, I just want to tell you the truth, hoping you can have a little conscience. Yes, just as you guessed, our people were rescued by the Scourge? And those precious equipment were also provided by the Scourge. But did you think they were all free?"
Valstann glared at the couple, clenching his fists and roaring angrily:
"For a hundred years, we promised to serve the Scourge for a hundred years in exchange for the technology and materials. Our people worked day and night, without a good night's sleep for months, all so that you would shed less blood on the Battlefield. But what have you done? You have disappointed me greatly."
Tyrande was worried that Valstann would lose control, and gently advised him, "Valstann, you need to calm down. Things aren't as you think."
"Don't tell me those hypocritical lies; I see right through you."
Valstann shook his head in disappointment. "Thanks to the Scourge for saving our people. The Night Elves will continue to exist. A hundred years from now, you will be nothing but ants in our eyes. Rest assured, we will not compete for power with ants."