"What happened here?!"
Malfurion's voice was filled with anger and shock. This polluted druid grove was littered with the corpses of tragically dead druids, their faces contorted in fear, clearly having suffered something terrifying before their demise.
"We...we don't know," said the patrolling druid. "They lost contact with us, and the messengers we sent afterward also disappeared."
When the Night Elves found the groves and dens destroyed by Tichondrius, their expressions grew increasingly grim. Not only had their kin died tragically, but the dignity and confidence of their entire race had been trampled underfoot.
Malfurion tore through the demonically corrupted thorns blocking his way. When he saw the ancient tree stump, disfigured by fel corruption, his face turned terribly dark. "The human prince was right...our forest faces a terrible threat."
fel energy flowed underground through the tree roots, and the corrupted energy mixed with the soil and flowing water. The entire forest absorbed these corrupted nutrients. Tichondrius had also insidiously used a special spell to delay the outbreak of the fel energy; he was waiting for the final, most violent fel plague.
"Arch Druid, we must quickly purify this corruption!"
A young druid said anxiously, standing in the center of the corrupted grove. He truly felt the forest's pain, which made him want to purify the grove's corruption and heal nature's wounds.
However, the expressions of some older druids, who had experienced the terrible War of the Ancients, were as grim as Malfurion's. The young druid's teacher patted his shoulder and shook his head, saying, "It's too late."
If the fel corruption was just a little, it might still be possible to clear it, but now almost the entire forest is polluted by fel energy. The energy is still latent within the trees and animals, not yet erupted. In reality, the seemingly vibrant forest is already terminally ill.
Malfurion raised his hand and punched the corrupted tree stump. Vigorous natural vitality surged into the stump, yet this only accelerated its death.
When the power of nature met fel energy, it was like pouring water into a hot oil pan. The fel energy, which had been lurking, suddenly exploded. The sound of the wood cracking was like the ancient tree's final wail. From the cracks, what flowed out was not sap, but green fel energy.
"It's only a trunk left; its essence died long ago."
Malfurion shook his head. The ancient tree's last vitality had dissipated; otherwise, the natural energy he injected could have sustained it a little longer. But now, it seemed, it had only accelerated the death of the ancient tree's heart.
At this moment, even Malfurion himself, who had experienced the War of the Ancients, felt utterly helpless. Tichondrius, while Mannoroth distracted them, had planted a bombshell in Felwood Forest.
"Get the civilians out of Felwood quickly! Transfer them all to Mount Hyjal!"
Discouragement was only temporary. Malfurion understood that Felwood's situation was almost irreversible in the short term, and he quickly instructed the druids to help the Felwood civilians evacuate.
"Do not drink the local water, and do not consume any food produced by the forest. If anyone is contaminated by fel energy, immediately send druids to help them.
Act fast! We don't have much time!"
Malfurion, giving orders, clenched his fists tightly, his bones and skin even making a rubbing sound—the Night Elves, due to their long period of peace, had lost some of their vigilance. They had forgotten that this world was still considered an inevitable prey by a terrible adversary.
And Felwood Forest was the price they paid for it.
After managing to settle the residents of Felwood, bad news arrived one after another. Malfurion received a letter delivered by a raptor druid, opened it, and his expression changed.
"Has that fellow Illidan...escaped too? Is it someone from the Burning Legion, or someone who has been hiding among us all along?"
One thought after another flashed through Malfurion's mind, but the current situation already made him restless. The most important thing now was to reduce losses; otherwise, if Felwood Forest, the Night Elves' main activity and residential area, became contaminated, they would suffer a truly devastating blow.
There was no time to consider more possibilities. He simply replied to Maiev, telling her to handle this matter personally. After all, having guarded Illidan for ten thousand years, she probably understood her brother better than Malfurion himself.
Moreover, Maiev's own abilities were not inferior to anyone else's, so Malfurion felt relatively at ease entrusting this matter to her.
...
"Well, well, Illidan Stormrage, you actually managed to find this place?" Tichondrius looked at Illidan, who had broken through his illusion and appeared in the camp, with considerable surprise.
Illidan sneered, "Even across Mount Hyjal, I can smell the stench of demons."
"Such arrogance. It seems the events of ten thousand years ago haven't taught you a lesson," Tichondrius flapped his bat-like wings, flying to the top of the hill. "But I am always magnanimous. If you kneel and beg me, I will give you another chance to serve the Legion."
Tichondrius didn't take the newly freed Demon Hunter seriously at all. Although he didn't know when Illidan had escaped from prison, the Dreadlords' keen perception told him that Illidan's condition didn't seem very good.
The Dreadlords leisurely cupped his chin with his hand and said mockingly, "Or do you intend to avenge your forest with the little power you have now?"
Illidan slowly twirled the Azzinoth Warblades in his hands, his cloth-bound eyes fixed on the hill where Tichondrius stood. "Avenge the forest? That's the funniest joke I've ever heard. Please don't compare me to those cowardly druid wastes, otherwise, you will pay the price, Tichondrius!"
The Demon Hunter's figure shot out like a ghost. The Azzinoth Warblades left green afterglows in the air as he charged towards Tichondrius's position with unimaginable speed.
However, even though the Demon Hunter's speed was beyond what a normal person could perceive, it wasn't enough to deceive the cunning and sharp Dreadlords' eyes. Tichondrius dispersed into a black mist on the hilltop, and the Azzinoth Warblades only left two deep slashes on the mountain wall behind him.
Illidan did not get discouraged when his first strike missed. He knew his opponent was no ordinary demon.
He pushed off the mountain wall, exerting force again, and launched himself into the air, diving straight towards where Tichondrius's black mist had condensed. Only this time, the green glow of Azzinoth was a little brighter.
Illidan imbued his warblades with magic, granting them the ability to inflict increased damage on demons. He had always firmly believed that fel energy was also a good way to harm demons.
And because this place was almost completely corrupted by fel energy, not only did Tichondrius's power increase, but Illidan's power also significantly strengthened. This allowed him to fight Tichondrius even after just recovering from a weakened state.
However...
To defeat Tichondrius, this was far from enough.
After several minutes of confrontation, Illidan was ultimately struck in the chest by one of Tichondrius's moves. He didn't have time to take any defensive measures and was sent flying backward like a cannonball.
Tichondrius retracted his sharp claws, his expression slightly furrowed: the feel of that last blow wasn't quite right. Although he had indeed hit Illidan's chest, it gave him a sense of not having been effective.
It was unlikely for an elven body to withstand his attack head-on, so why would Illidan risk taking the blow to his chest?
Tichondrius looked up in the direction Illidan had been sent flying, and his expression suddenly changed—damn it, could that guy be planning something?!