Her Path, His Path, Their Path

Azar left the capital with his confidants, his departure decisive and swift. The scale of his exit was massive, as if he were telling those left behind, "I'm done playing; I'm leaving." He took with him the factions of mages, Sentinels, and priests who favored him. Careful observers would be astonished to discover just how vast his preparations over the last century had been. Daresmar felt fortunate that he hadn't rashly moved against Azar. He possessed a heart loyal to Azshara; from the moment he decided to follow her, he knew he was her claw and fang. His mission was to eliminate any obstacle to her ascension. Once, he had viewed Azar as a massive stumbling block, but out of respect for Azshara's feelings, he had held back. It wasn't that he lacked the desire or the plan, but Xavius had warned him against it. The first consequence would be Azshara's wrath, followed by repercussions he could not withstand. Xavius had told him that Azar's influence was so vast that no one could fully grasp it, including himself, who held the designation of Number 0. Watching this endless procession, Daresmar believed it. This power shocked him; even his own trusted aide was in that line, and a chill had run down his spine the moment he saw him! Had Xavius not warned him to trust no one, he would have almost revealed his plans to that man. Who was he? Yes, that was Number 3. The procession also included the Royalists, who knew that Azar was their final sanctuary. Initially, they had doubted Azar, once believing he was the mastermind behind the scenes. But upon seeing the book in Azar's hands, they followed him without hesitation. Among them were mages, Sentinels, and priests, but even more were craftsmen and scholars. Azar had taken nearly half of the capital's artisans and intellectuals. Seeing them go, Daresmar's heart bled; it would take immense effort to cultivate such talent again. He punched a nearby pillar, venting his frustration.

"But when you see this book in someone's hands, it must mean a great change has occurred in the kingdom. Trust the holder of this book, follow him, and he will grant you sanctuary."

"My dear child, if you can see this book rather than hearing it from my own lips, then please take the people mentioned within and leave. They are my secret, trusted subordinates. They are excellent and will be able to help you."

"If you are certain you are safe and possess sufficient ability, infuse the final pages of the book with Arcane power. The secrets of the Zarzan House are there—secrets only the head of the house may know. Clearly, the moment you obtained this book, you automatically became the head. Remember, do not read it immediately; you must ensure you are strong enough. Remember! Remember!"

Seeing them go, Daresmar's heart bled; it would take immense effort to cultivate such talent again. He punched a nearby pillar, venting his frustration.

"No need to feel regret. His actions actually save us a lot of trouble, don't they?" A sinister voice sounded beside his ear—it was Xavius. As a high-level spy personally trained by Azar, he knew well that the forces hidden in the shadows were the most terrifying.

"These are the kingdom's elite and its wise men! Not commoners!"

"We can always train more; we have plenty of time, don't we? The most important thing is that Azshara is already Queen!"

This is the difference between a leader and an elite. While the elite may possess great ability in certain areas, when it comes to long-term vision, a leader leaves them in the dust. Azshara saw it clearly: no matter what Azar did now or how vast the power he displayed, it would eventually belong to the child in her womb. Yet, she showed no hint of triumph. She wept. Watching the procession slowly fade into the distance, she cried, knowing she had broken his heart. She did not know when they would meet again, or if they ever would... she was lost, her heart filled with agony.

As the sun set, she stood there until she was exhausted and weary, knowing it was time to return. The wind dried her tears and steeled her heart. "From this moment on, I bury my love deep within. I will never love another; my heart belongs only to you. Farewell, Azar, my love." Tears welled up uncontrollably once more, but she wiped her face dry. With a resolute expression and steady steps, she walked back into her kingdom. It was as if she were telling herself: I will never regret this! I am Azshara! I am the Queen!

I have never dared to underestimate women; do you not know the saying that women hold up half the sky? Especially a woman who has buried her love—when she pours her entire being into her pursuits, the energy she unleashes is astonishing. She began to purge the kingdom of factions loyal to her, even neutral ones, and consolidated all power to recover from the losses caused by the palace coup. She heavily supported the mage corps, pushing Azar's plans to their peak. In just a few short years, she set the nation on a path of rapid development. Just as in the original trajectory, she made the nation powerful and led this race toward glory. Thanks to the Well of Eternity, thanks to the Azeroth World-Soul for giving this race a new beginning; she was destined to bloom with infinite radiance! To be remembered in the annals of this planet! Her reputation reached its zenith; she was supported and beloved by the commoners. She was the great Queen, the great Light of Lights!

"She is still herself; gold will always shine. Press on, my love."

Azar did not yield! He steeled his spirit and started anew! He could not bring shame to a transmigrator! Upon returning to Eldre'Thalas, he told himself that many eyes were upon him and he had to shoulder greater responsibilities! They believed in him, and he had to do his best; he could not let them down. He was a Prince of the Night Elf! He was Azar! He did not hide; he hung a portrait of Azshara in the center of his study so he could see her at every moment. He had to constantly remind himself that she was his love, that this was the path he had chosen, and he had to walk it firmly. He told himself not to avoid, but to face things bravely; to forgive her, to be tolerant of her mistakes; to strengthen himself so he would have the power to protect her, so that when she was tired or wounded, he could be the first to offer her warmth.

"Falco! The training and screening of warriors must be stricter. Raise the level requirements and reduce the size of the army. Additionally, begin forming the Prince's Guard. You will serve as the captain personally. Remember, I want the absolute elite!"

"Maiev, from today on, the training of the Sentinel units must be intensified. Use the strictest, most brutal methods to forge the finest killing tools! One in a hundred, one in a thousand—that is not too much to ask! They must become the sharpest daggers in the darkness; the moment they appear, it shall signal the death of the opponent!"

"Daphne, I leave the Elf Hunter units to you. I believe you know my requirements."

"Generals, it is time to show your true strength. I want the finest warriors, hunters, scouts, mages, and priests!"

"And you, my excellent civil officials, I need your collective effort. I want more population, more grain, I want the finest craftsmen, I want to build the greatest city!"

"I am counting on you! You are my greatest reliance! With you by my side, I dare to challenge everything in this world!"

Eldre'Thalas, the city of the Night Elf Prince, began to accelerate from this moment, entering a path of rapid development! Because their leader had also chosen his future path! He firmly believed that he possessed a longer-term vision that could save his team from taking unnecessary detours! He firmly believed that he would surely be able to save the fate of the Night Elf in the future!

"I will seize fate by the throat! I will control my own destiny! For Azshara, for my child, for Azeroth! Move forward, Night Elf!"