The Orcs army was already prepared; Thrall and Jaina were together, chatting and laughing.
Upon seeing the Secret Mage Corps casting spells, Thrall knew it was his turn to fight.
"Jaina, send our warriors across."
The Night Elf's Secret Mage Corps has been exposed, and to prevent their rapid retreat, an elite force is needed to delay them—this was a pre-arranged plan.
Jaina began casting a spell, teleporting about five hundred elite Orcs warriors to their designated location. Then, ten thousand Orcs soldiers set off, splitting into two groups to encircle the Secret Mage Corps.
It was a dense primeval forest, and the ten thousand Orcs quickly fell silent, like a drop of water entering the ocean.
Thrall, unimpressed, tore at the flesh of a Pandaren while continuing his conversation with Jaina about their ideals.
However, after a long time, no news came, and Thrall's expression turned somewhat grim.
At this moment, the siege of Nighthold entered a stalemate. The Burning Legion launched dozens of attacks in succession, but still failed to conquer the fortress, leaving behind thousands of corpses.
The Night Elves also suffered heavy casualties; the city walls were damaged everywhere, and some parts were on the verge of collapse.
With the support of his subordinates, Azgalor finally retreated back to his own lines, but he dared not launch Charge rashly.
On the city wall, Fandral Staghelm remained calm and directed the battle, disregarding his own safety. His small figure put immense pressure on Azgalor.
After a prolonged siege, the Legion's soldiers were exhausted. Azgalor sensed something was wrong and sent messengers to Archimonde to request reinforcements.
Archimonde paid little attention to Azgalor's setback, but he was somewhat surprised that the Orcs army of ten thousand had disappeared into the dense forest without finding the Night Elf mage force.
"It seems the Night Elves were prepared and had set up a trap well in advance."
Archimonde pondered for a moment, then asked in a probing tone, "Mannoroth, what method do you have to lure out the Night Elf's Secret Mage Corps?"
Mannoroth scratched his head and said, "As long as we increase the pressure from the frontal attacks, the Secret Mage Corps will definitely come out to fight."
Archimonde was slightly displeased. "What I'm asking for is a concrete plan, not empty talk. The Legion's trump cards are laid out here. Which unit do you think we should send?"
Mannoroth dared not delay. After a moment's hesitation, he offered his suggestion. "It's time to let the Mo'arg Engineer make their move."
Archimonde was slightly surprised and gave Mannoroth an appreciative look:
"This proves you're not completely stupid. The Night Elves rely on their walls; without them, they'll be defeated. We must maintain pressure and not let Night Elf fall into despair. We must give them hope for victory."
Although the Burning Legion failed to build the Fel Reaver, the Mo'arg's mechanics used the raw materials to create a large number of Fel Cannons.
These cannons had an extremely long range and were capable of causing enormous damage to the city walls.
When the Burning Legion deployed hundreds of Fel Cannons, Fandral Staghelm once again felt despair.
To destroy the Fel Cannons, the Night Elves must break out of the fortress.
The Night Elves couldn't afford to engage in hand-to-hand combat with the towering Legion soldiers, and could only rely on General Feathermoon's Secret Mage Corps once again.
Behind the Burning Legion's army, Legion soldiers calmly installed Fel Cannons.
Not far from the fortress, in a mist-shrouded Valley.
The mist suddenly dissipated, revealing a team of soldiers clad in black armor. The soldiers were covered in elaborate ornaments, adorned with Magic Gems, making them appear exceptionally heavy and hindering their movement.
Shandis Feathermoon stood on the high platform, pointed in the direction of the Fel Cannons, and roared:
"Starfall, Moonfall, Moon Goddess Orbital Cannon, fire!"
Countless Arcane energies were brewing, forming a massive Arcane cloud. Millions of Arcane energies rained down from the sky, striking the Burning Legion's camp like a torrential downpour.
The Legion's soldiers scattered and fled in panic, and many still suffered losses, but the Fel Cannons were immobilized and completely destroyed.
Archimonde nodded, seemingly recalling the past. "Indeed, it's a legacy from Queen Azshara's era—the purest Arcane energy, the simplest yet most powerful application. It truly brings back fond memories."
When the Secret Mage Corps appeared, Thrall immediately perked up, waving his hand dismissively:
"For the Horde, for Azeroth, slaughter these foolish Night Elves, devour them!"
There were simply too many Orcs; they covered the entire mountainside, howling as they charged towards the Misty Valley.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the Orcs betrayed the Night Elf race once again.
Fandral Staghelm gritted his teeth in hatred and roared, "Tyrande, is this your good ally?"
Seeing the Orcs charge into the Valley, Archimonde knew the Night Elf was sealed and said with some regret:
"These Night Elves are quite clever; they used ancient techniques to craft equipment, thus avoiding their own Mana Addiction problem."
Mannoroth pondered for a moment, then asked, "So, these Night Elves don't know magic; they rely on their strange equipment."
Archimonde nodded. "No wonder the Secret Mage Corps are so mysterious. Without this equipment, they're just ordinary Night Elves. Unfortunately, the equipment is too heavy, and they have nowhere to escape."
"My lord, what is the Mana Addiction of the Night Elves?" Mannoroth inquired.
Archimonde's gaze was deep, and with a slight smirk, he expressed his understanding:
"The Mana Addiction is a clumsy lie. The Night Elves evolved around the Well of Eternity; they are a naturally superior magical race. Their need for magic is as innate as their hunger—a primal need. The Night Elves have rejected their nature, which is putting the cart before the horse and going against their instincts. If they continue to reject magic, perhaps in ten thousand years they will degenerate into hideous Dark Trolls."
Mannoroth blinked his small eyes and asked, "So, Mana Addiction isn't a bad thing?"
Archimonde sneered:
"It's not just not a bad thing, it's a great thing! The stronger the Mana Addiction, the more magic power the body can hold, and the better the talent. Among all the flesh and blood creatures I've ever seen, the Night Elves have one of the best talents."
Mannoroth was taken aback, feeling somewhat ashamed of himself, but then he thought about how the Pit Lords would suffer terribly when they lacked Fel, just like the Night Elves ' Mana Addiction, and suddenly realized that the Abyss race's talent was not bad either.
"Sir, how can I overcome my Mana Addiction?"
Archimonde glared at Mannoroth, thinking he was asking a question he already knew the answer to, but still replied:
"The solution to Mana Addiction is very simple: absorb sufficient magic power, just like eating when you're hungry. How could the clever Night Elves not understand such a simple truth? It's just that they are blinded by the Elune, viewing Mana Addiction as a monstrous threat, and only know how to run away from it instead of ever thinking of a solution."
As Archimonde was speaking eloquently about his Mana Addiction, a massive explosion occurred in Misty Valley, blasting tens of thousands of Orcs rushed in to their deaths.
Archimonde was taken aback. Could it be that the Secret Mage Corps had dragged the Orcs down with it? He stretched his right hand into the Void, and a bright orb of Fel appeared in his palm.
Archimonde carefully examined the center of the Fel sphere, nodded, and smiled approvingly.
"We were careless. These Night Elves may lack great wisdom, but they are quite clever."