The Three Fronts at War

At the foot of Mount Hyjal, Gul'dan's camp was pitched. But the one seated in the camp's place of honor wasn't Gul'dan. Without those eyes radiating Fel Energy, anyone who saw him might have thought he was an ordinary Draenei. But he had another name: Eredar, the Draenei's former name. And there was only one person in the entire Burning Legion who still considered himself Eredar, looked no different from the Draenei, and had once led the Burning Legion: Archimonde the Defiler.

The most powerful servant of Sargeras, lord of the Burning Legion, had invaded Azeroth ten thousand years ago. After ten thousand years, he had returned. Though he wasn't as powerful as he had once been, this time he had truly made it to Azeroth—instead of failing before he could even emerge from the portal, as he had last time.

Archimonde had taken the form of a short, ordinary man to avoid drawing attention. He had once been too conspicuous, and it had cost him everything. Now that he had finally seized an opportunity, he was determined to learn from his past failures.

"Lord Archimonde, as Lord Kil'jaeden instructed, we've managed to hold up the army from Astranaar. The garrison on Mount Hyjal is also at the end of its rope. Should we proceed with the next step and launch an all-out assault to seize Nordrassil and welcome Lord Kil'jaeden?"

Gul'dan sat in the seat of honor on the left and asked loudly. He didn't hold Archimonde in as much awe as he did Kil'jaeden. After all, Archimonde's strength was limited at the moment. Though he was stronger than Gul'dan, the difference wasn't great. For someone like Gul'dan, nothing short of overwhelming power could make him bow his head.

Archimonde's eyes narrowed. Though he was furious inside, he could