Back to the main topic, the scene returned once more to the Arakkoa Peaks region of the parallel world of Draenor, where the Night Empire's ground expeditionary force was stationed.
Other than a few lucky ones assigned to serve at Death Star Fortress, the vast majority of the Court Elves had been distributed among units at every level of the Night Elf Border Guard, serving as Warlord Commissars.
To be honest, the ordinary soldiers respected and trusted these Court Elf commissars quite a bit. It was not merely because they were eloquent, highly persuasive, and skilled in Mind Magic.
More importantly, these Gestapo always led from the front in battle, taking the first charge and rushing ahead like maniacs more fearless than suicide squads, with none of the self-awareness expected of high-ranking officers.
That was the one good thing about fanatical racists. As long as they believed it was for the elves and for the Night Empire, they could easily disregard their own lives and deaths.
After all, death was just death. Turn back into a little elf, recuperate for a dozen years or so, and they would be a good man again.
In this colonial invasion war against the High Arakkoa, before the Night Elf Border Guard's heavy machine guns had even completed their suppressive fire, the Court Elf officers were already shouting slogans fanatically, raising their rapid-fire assault pistols and charging desperately across the lines.
They had all been Royal Court Guards ten thousand years ago. Relying on the personal strength they had accumulated in the past and their small Crystal Shields, they could practically rush right up into the enemy's faces, then use the Positioning Devices they carried to provide precise bombardment coordinates for the rear Artillery Troops and Walking Spider Rocket Launchers.
The High Arakkoa had