Eversong Woods, the magical forest upon which the High Elf kingdom of Quel'Thalas depended for survival, possessed a powerful magical barrier supported by the power of the Sunwell.
However, the normally tranquil and serene woods were at this moment filled with an aura of death and destruction.
High Elf corpses were scattered everywhere across the forest of their homeland, their once-exquisite facial features distorted and warped by the terror of their deaths.
Most terrifying of all, these lifeless bodies stood up swaying once again under the evil spells of a group of robed spellcasters, turning their weapons toward their still-living compatriots not far away.
Amidst the High Elf front lines, a female commander was issuing orders.
"Build up the defenses! We cannot let these living corpses advance any further!"
"Lor'themar, take your men and hold Fairbreeze Village! We cannot let the Scourge convert any more of our compatriots!"
"Yes! Halduron, keep up!"
After the one-eyed elf Lor'themar led his men away upon receiving the order, the commander finally raised her gaze to look at the approaching Scourge in the distance.
Golden long hair as dazzling as if bathed in the glory of the sun, smooth and delicate wheat-colored skin, an athletic physique and straight, slender legs paired with an outstanding appearance and spirited demeanor even among elves allowed the commander to boost her compatriots' morale simply by standing among the battle lines.
For she was the Ranger-General of the High Elf kingdom of Quel'Thalas, Sylvanas Windrunner.
More than 6,000 years had passed since the first Sun King, Dath'Remar Sunstrider, led his fellow Highborne to flee Kalimdor, cross the Great Sea, and arrive at this place he named Eversong Woods to establish the High Elf kingdom of Quel'Thalas.
As a family that had served as the Ranger-Generals of Quel'Thalas generation after generation, the ancient surname Windrunner would naturally step forward in such a time of national survival to defend their homeland.
Alleria... Please bless us to endure this ordeal.
Sylvanas pulled a tightly crafted necklace from deep within her cleavage, gazing at the small inscription engraved upon it and praying silently in her heart.
Weakness was naturally not a trait a ranger-general should possess. After finishing her prayer, she once again raised her head firmly and commanded her compatriots.
"Raise bows! Target the enemy's front-row living corpses!"
"But... General, those are our compatriots!"
A greenhorn elf in the front row was clearly somewhat hesitant. He clearly remembered the swaying living corpse walking at the very front-it was his childhood friend from the same village.
"Do not hesitate! They are dead now and are no longer the compatriots you knew. Prepare yourselves, rangers! For Quel'Thalas!" Sylvanas warned sternly.
"Yes! For Quel'Thalas!" The young elf's expression also turned serious as he readied himself.
The female commander drew the bow in her hand, aimed at an enemy acolyte, and shouted her order.
"Prepare for a volley! Fire!"
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
The rangers with resolute gazes followed their general's orders and loosed the arrows in their hands. The slow-moving living corpses ahead could hardly evade the attacks and fell to the ground one by one, struck by arrows.
Sylvanas led by example, moving actively through the forest and loosing arrows at a speed difficult for ordinary people to see, swiftly cutting down the spellcasters in the back row of the Scourge.
At the rear of the army of the dead, a silver-haired man wearing heavy plate armor smiled grimly, reaching out to point his frost-dripping long sword at the opposing elven lines.
"Continue sending subsequent troops to attack! Crush them! The Scourge is unstoppable! For the Lich King!"
The overwhelming undead forces flooded the High Elf defense lines like a tide. Although the Ranger-General resisted desperately, the disparity in troop strength was immense.
In the end, the High Elf forces were defeated, and Sylvanas was panting as she was knocked to the ground.
"Ha... Ha... Traitor! If not for you, how could the barrier of Quel'Thalas have been breached so easily!"
The weak Ranger-General looked with utter disdain at a well-dressed male elf standing behind the silver-haired man.
"Heh."
The man maintained an elegant smile and bowed. "General Windrunner, say what you will. As for the result, I have obtained eternal life, while you shall die a miserable death here."
"Humph! It is not that simple."
The silver-haired man in plate armor raised the runeblade in his hand and aimed it at Sylvanas's heart.
"Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas, you are very capable, and that capability of yours will be used by me henceforth. Feel this eternal curse!"
What? You... What have you done! Monster!
Sylvanas cried out in agony, yet she could still feel as though her soul was being pulled out of her body and into that rune-engraved magic sword.
Alleria, Vereesa, I'm sorry...
In her dying moments, the female elf silently recited her sisters' names.
"No!!"
With a loud shout, everything that had happened before her eyes vanished without a trace as if erased by magic.
"Ha! Ha!"
A male elf broke out in a cold sweat, panting heavily as he sat up from the lawn.
"Is it this dream again... It's too real!"
This male elf with silver shoulder-length hair still looked around with panic at the beautiful forest exuding magical radiance.
This was near Windrunner Village in the southern part of Eversong Woods. In his previous nightmare, this place had long since been breached, and following that, an everlasting scar-the Dead Scar-would be left all the way through the entire forest to Silvermoon City.
And in later generations, this place was called the Ghostlands.
"Charlemagne, did you have another nightmare?"
Beside the male elf, a woman with exquisitely lovely features gently wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, her face full of concern.
This female elf bore an eight-point resemblance to Sylvanas, whom he had seen in his dream. The only difference lay in their temperaments.
Sylvanas was poised and valiant, her gaze resolute, while the female elf before him was gentle and graceful, her face full of concern.
That's true... how could they not look alike? They're sisters, after all. Charlemagne thought with a wry smile.
Then he smiled and took the female elf's hand.
"I'm fine... thank you, Alleria."
This female elf was none other than Sylvanas Windrunner's elder sister... Alleria Windrunner.
In later years, Alleria disappeared during the First War, only to reappear before everyone many years later... together with her husband, Turalyon.
Heh, Turalyon, I'm sorry, but Alleria is off the table for you now.
The male elf known as Charlemagne's full name was Charlemagne Theron.
Does that surname sound familiar?
Of course it does, because he was the older brother of Quel'Thalas's regent, Lor'themar Theron-later nicknamed A-Qiang-and he was also a transmigrator.
Alleria's pretty face flushed red. She quickly pulled her hand back and said coyly,
"Honestly... you're taking liberties with me again!"
Rather than anger, this attitude was more like coquettish teasing. The childhood friends were already used to joking around with each other like this; for them, it was just their usual playful banter.
As they chatted and laughed on the way home, Charlemagne gazed resolutely at the picturesque Eversong Woods.
That's right! It's all yet to begin. I won't let anything from that nightmare come to pass!