The sudden arrival of powerful reinforcements provided immediate relief to the struggling Night Elf Sentinels. They watched in astonishment as humans and High Elves descended from the heavens, accompanied by never-before-seen elemental beings and massive treants.
In particular, the three Witherbark Warriors stepped onto the battlefield with heavy, steady strides, swinging wooden arms like battering rams. Every strike shook the earth, sending Orc warriors flying as they tried to swarm the Sentinels. Their bark was incredibly tough; the Orcish battle-axes left only shallow nicks upon impact.
"Are those... treants? But they feel different—" a Sentinel Captain muttered instinctively.
"Don't worry about that! They are here to help us! Concentrate fire and take down those green-skinned maniacs!" another experienced Sentinel shouted back, simultaneously firing an arrow that precisely pierced the throat of an Orc peon lunging at a Fire Elemental.
The tide of battle turned in an instant.
Uther was like a golden storm. The Hammer of the Silver Hand became the embodiment of Holy Light in his grasp. Each swing was accompanied by a divine boom; the Orc warriors struck were either crushed to the bone or left screaming in agony as the Light scorched them.
His anti-magic armor shimmered amidst the chaos. Occasionally, an Orc Shaman would attempt to hurl a Chain Lightning or Flame Shock, but upon hitting the armor, the spells merely rippled and vanished, unable to shake the Paladin's defense.
Jaina's Blizzard covered a vast area, ice shards falling like the scythes of a grim reaper, freezing and tearing through the charging Orcs.
Capurnia, meanwhile, was like a dancer of flames. Flamestrikes ravaged the densest clusters of Orcs, the high heat distorting the air as wretched screams echoed continuously. She summoned a far greater number of Fire Elementals than Rhodes—over a dozen blazing beings roared as they pounced on the enemy, igniting everything with scorched fists and breath.
"Lord Rhodes, this summoning magic is quite useful. Could you give it to me?" Capurnia, the High Elf Magister, quietly approached Rhodes. She whispered the question while casually weaving fire spells.
"My apologies, my lady. Though you are charming, I'm afraid I can't do that," Rhodes replied, turning his head. What are you thinking? Even your Prince is on loan, and you want the spell too?
"Let's negotiate, Lord Rhodes. If there is ever a lonely night where you cannot sleep, you may come to my chambers. I can soothe your weary soul," Capurnia suggested, employing a classic High Elf maneuver.
One should not assume elves are simple-minded. In truth, the "pastimes" of the High Elves were far more sophisticated and daring than those of humans.
"Ahem... you must be joking," Rhodes said, feeling slightly embarrassed. You're really trying to tempt a dedicated officer with this? Still, he knew the Fire Elemental summoning scrolls were too vital to give away.
"I am not joking. I have always preferred men who are generous. You don't dare seek out the Princess or that young girl; I can see you're repressed. I can help you with that. Furthermore, I won't cause you any trouble. Once you leave my room, no one will know a thing. I could even invite a priestess over for some shared entertainment; she could cast Power Word: Fortitude on you. I guarantee you'd be able to keep moving all night long."
In truth, High Elf males generally looked down on human females—save for a certain Prince with specific tastes. High Elf females, however, would occasionally seek out human lovers. For most, it was merely a game. Because Quel'Thalas was incredibly wealthy and had enjoyed thousands of years of peace, they maintained the decadent hobbies of the ancient Highborne. If humans knew the extent of these activities, they would surely be overwhelmed.
"The price seems a bit high," Rhodes thought. Dammit, if you come to Azeroth and don't get involved with a Blood Elf, you haven't truly lived! Many veteran players of Azeroth used to linger in the Black Temple's "Den of Mortal Delights" for a reason. Even when their kingdom was falling, the High Elves knew how to "play" with such variety—even involving succubi. It was clear what this race was like internally. It could only be said that the Windrunner sisters were the outliers; the other High Elves were increasingly "knowledgeable" and "skilled."
Should I haggle with her? Does a Priest's Fortitude really have that kind of effect?
"You're haggling with me? This kind of Fire Elemental is very important for us Fire Mages," the High Elf Magister said. With such powerful summons, they wouldn't even need the protection of melee classes; their survivability would be immense. No wonder the Prince wanted the scrolls. As one of the top Fire Mages in Azeroth, she understood the benefits perfectly.
"It's not mine to give; it belongs to the Titan Watchers. Besides, it's a one-time use item. Your offer isn't quite balanced," Rhodes said. Despite the massive temptation, Rhodes maintained his "firmness of heart."
"Hmph! I've lived for over a thousand years. I know what you're thinking by the way you look at me," the Elf said, bluntly exposing him. Honestly, if this boy wanted to, he could have taken those two human girls long ago. She had been waiting for the drama to unfold every day, but his lack of action left her speechless.
"I'll let you study it for two days at most."
"Three days. And you must tell us how to use the Holy Light elementals." Quel'Thalas had many priests, after all.
"Deal."
Once the secret conversation ended, Rhodes' spells became even more precise and efficient. His gaze was like lightning, and Magic Arrows flew from his hands. Every burst of stinging magical energy found its way to the strongest-looking Orc leaders or those trying to organize a counter-attack. With every flash, a high-threat green-skinned warrior was reduced to char. Simultaneously, he commanded the Fire Elementals and Witherbark Warriors to perform tactical pincer movements, surrounding and isolating the remaining Orcs.
The High Elf Magister was also active, hurlng fireballs. Their conversation had been so discreet that the others, focused on the battle, hadn't noticed the "dirty deal" at all.
The Orcs' fury began to crumble in the face of absolute power. Their prized brute strength seemed laughable against the heavy blows of the treants and the searing heat of the elementals. Their fearless charges became suicidal against Uther's impenetrable defense and the devastating area-of-effect magic from Jaina and Capurnia.
When the last Orc champion—eyes red with rage and letting out a final, unwilling roar—had his skull crushed by Uther's hammer, the battlefield finally fell silent. Over a hundred Orcs had been cleared; only two or three peons escaped, screaming into the woods.
As the battle ended, the Night Elves watched Rhodes and his group with wariness. Their bows were not lowered, though they were no longer aimed directly at them.
"Who... are you?" the Sentinel Captain asked. She was a tall Night Elf with a fresh claw mark on her face. She spoke in broken but clear Common. Her gaze shifted between Rhodes and Uther, finally settling on Rhodes, who appeared to be the leader. "Humans? High Elves? And... these allies of nature?"
"Are you alright? Fellow children of the stars, I am of the Sin'dorei, come from across the great sea," Capurnia stepped forward to ask.
"You are from the other continent! What is your relation to Dath'Remar Sunstrider?" Although their appearance had changed slightly, the aura they carried could not be faked. Many among the Night Elves had participated in the War of the Ancients ten thousand years ago.
"He was our great first King, the founder of Quel'Thalas."
The dozen or so Night Elf Sentinels nodded to each other. As they suspected, these were indeed the descendants of the Highborne.
The Captain had heard the conversation between the female mage and the human clearly—one should never underestimate a Sentinel's ears. That wanton personality and talk of "secret parties" were traits only the Highborne mages possessed. It seemed they had passed those vices down to their descendants. What a disgrace! They even refused to spare other races. Truly, the Night Elves held little affection for the Highborne.
However, since they had been saved, the Captain couldn't be too harsh. She needed to find out why they had returned.
"The forest does not welcome those who study magic. You were exiled from the Night Elf tribes. Why have you returned?" the Sentinel Captain asked.
"Honestly, we didn't want to come either, but there is big trouble afoot. Did you not feel the power within those Orcs just now?" Capurnia pointed to the fallen Orc warriors.
"Does that green skin not look familiar? That scent they carry—your race should have it etched into your memory," Rhodes said, taking a step forward.
"It does indeed feel familiar. That green is full of omen and evil," several Sentinels noted.
"I will tell you the truth: the Burning Legion has set its sights on our world once again, and the powerful Archimonde has been summoned back. We are here to warn you. The Night Elves must prepare for war. The Burning Legion has returned," Rhodes said with a sigh.
"What... what did you say? The Burning Legion! You aren't joking, are you?" the Sentinel Captain's eyes widened in disbelief. The name "Burning Legion" was a taboo among their people—the nightmare of ten thousand years ago that led to the collapse of the Night Elf Empire.
"I am not joking. Decades ago, the Legion began plotting against our world. These Orcs are their vanguard—a race from another world infected by demon blood," Rhodes explained.
"Is what you say true?"
"You can take these Orc corpses as proof, and then take me to see the demigod Cenarius," Rhodes said.