Perhaps it was the timidity of returning home, but the closer they got to Yggdrasil, the more conflicted the Demon Hunters looked. Every blind man stared at the Greatwood atop Mount Hyjal with fel energy blazing from his eye sockets, yet none of them could move his feet.
Even Illidan was the same. Though he had agreed back at Stormwind Keep that he would return, his expression grew increasingly stiff as they drew closer.
"How about... we just watch from afar?" Standing on the flying carpet formed by Cloak, Illidan wrapped his arms around himself. His gaze seemed to pierce through space and walls as he looked toward the building beside the lake. "As long as I can see that she's doing well, I'll be satisfied."
Tyrande stood in the corridor of that grand house, which stretched out over the water. The energy-filled lake rippled beneath the moonlight, shimmering in the breeze. She seemed to be speaking with several green-haired Night Elves, her expression grave.
A serious woman was at her most beautiful. Tyrande was tall and slender in her Mooncloth robes, and every gesture she made carried authority and charm.
Seeing how much she had grown, Illidan smiled unconsciously and even said something that sounded like it came from a pathetic simp.
Su Ming curled his lip speechlessly and gave Illidan a hard slap on the shoulder. "Do you even know what you're saying right now? That's loser talk. If you really want to protect her smile, then go to her!"
"But the one she loves is my brother. I'm unnecessary... and I'm a sinner to the Night Elves."
Illidan grimaced from the blow, feeling as though his bones were about to crack. Deathstroke simply didn't seem human. That brute strength was like Ursoc's.
"So you're planning to run