"What I have lost, I will surely regain! The master will definitely reward me! You corrupt councilors, hoarding Silvermoon's resources, giving us commoners no way to live—then I won't let you live either!" Kandar's eyes looked somewhat crazed, making him an outcast among the High Elves.
A Magister's status could earn him a title in a human kingdom, and he could live a very relaxed and pleasant life. But in Silvermoon City, it was nothing special. After all, they were the ones who had taught magic to humans, which gave them a sense of superiority.
The long-simmering conflict erupted at this moment, with astonishing consequences. Who would have thought that a Magister who had once been on duty at the Sunwell would act as a traitor?
In the northern seas, a Naga priestess reported to Vashj, "My lady, the Tidal Charmstone has been successfully marked."
"Cast your spells! Attack the Sunwell! Let those traitors know the price of betrayal! For Queen Azshara!" Vashj shouted.
Her last sentence made the eyes of the Naga priestesses burn with fanaticism. To all Naga, Queen Azshara was the supreme being. Even though they had been transformed from Highborne elves into Naga, she was still their queen, the queen high above all.
A large number of Naga priestesses began to cast magic, driving the spell's operation. This kind of large-scale magic, especially when cast by multiple people, required extremely precise control, or it would fail.
Vashj lowered her bow and arrow, her six arms reaching toward the sky as she began to quietly gather magical power. She guided the arcane energy to churn, and the once clear, cloudless sky began to fill with dark clouds, flashing with occasional bolts of electricity. Streaks of lightning snaked and rolled within the clouds, accompanied by rumbles of thunder.
Such a strange phenomenon naturally caught the attention of the troops guarding the Sunwell. The captain sent this news to a member of the Silvermoon Council who was in charge.
However, the council member scoffed and tossed the report aside. The Sunwell's defenses were impregnable. It wasn't the first time they had faced a Naga attack, but aside from leaving a field of corpses, those Naga had been completely unable to shake the Sunwell's defenses. They were confident they could block a spell of this level, and even one much stronger!
Outside Silvermoon City, the sounds of battle shook the heavens, accompanied by the clamor of gongs and drums. Orc cavalry beat war drums atop their Kodo Beasts. After being enchanted by Orc Shamans, these unique war drums could inspire the attacking Orcs, causing their attack power to surge.
Arrows rained down, and magic missiles clashed. With Ogre mages on their side, the Horde's ranged firepower could now keep up. Coupled with their unique catapults, they could launch large boulders from a thousand meters away.
This exaggerated range often caused great trouble for the defending Ranger Corps. They had to dodge the arrows and spears of the Trolls below while also guarding against the boulders that could fall from the sky at any moment. They also had to face the Orcs' siege and climbing soldiers, all while protecting their mages. They were virtually run ragged.
Blood splattered, and severed limbs were everywhere. There were even Elves and Orcs with their intestines spilled out on the ground. To defend their final home, every High Elf fought to the death, refusing to retreat. There was no more ground to give.
Their tenacious resistance held off another wave of attacks. At this moment, the mages in the rear were still preparing their spells, so they had to hold on for a while longer.
However, just as the last wave of Orcs retreated, another wave charged forward. The fearless Orcs, spurred on by the Demon Blood, pushed relentlessly to the front. Facing Orc soldiers who still hadn't fallen despite having more than a dozen arrows sticking out of them, their blood-drenched cleavers swinging, even the valiant and skilled Ranger soldiers felt a chill of fear!
"Lok'tar!"
"Kill!"
The already frenzied Orc soldiers became even more berserk. Even the Trolls were infected, each one becoming extremely crazed, willing to trade their life to take down an Elf warrior. Faced with the suddenly frenzied Orc soldiers, the Elves' offensive faltered, showing faint signs of collapse!
Just at this moment, a flame descended from the sky, tearing through the air with a comet's tail and crashing straight into the ground.
The massive fireball turned a large open area in front of the city wall into a sea of fire, engulfing the Ogre mages casting spells in the distance and the siege engines along with them.
"Ah!"
The sensation of being burned by flames was definitely not pleasant. For the Orcs, the fanaticism was replaced by extreme terror. Burned by the flames, they struggled on the ground, but no amount of rolling could extinguish the fire. They could only watch helplessly as the flames continued to consume them.
The smell of roasting meat filled the air, and even Orgrim's expression couldn't help but change. He swore he would never eat roasted meat again; it was too disgusting!
"It's magic!"
"Silvermoon City will be victorious!"
"For Quel'Thalas!"
The spirits of the previously demoralized Elf troops soared once again. Taking advantage of the Orcs being stunned by the magic, they launched a frenzied counterattack, driving all the Orcs on the city walls back down.
Not going down meant being cut down; going down meant being burned to death. A long strip of fire separated them, making retreat impossible.
Orgrim angrily grabbed Gul'dan by his clothes. "Hurry up and cast a spell to put out the fire!"
"Apologies, Warchief, I cannot do that." Gul'dan looked at Orgrim's murderous eyes, his heart pounding. He quickly said, "But I have a way. We can use a spell to turn the fire back on them, engulfing the Elves in the sea of flames as well! That way, we can breach the city walls!"
Orgrim's eyes flickered.
This would undoubtedly sacrifice the clan leading the assault, but sacrificing a few thousand members of one clan in exchange for victory in the war was, he felt, worth it.
"Then get to it and cast your spell. If you can't do it, I'll smash you into a meat paste!" After speaking, he viciously threw Gul'dan to the ground.
The two-headed Ogre mages, together with the Troll Witch Doctors, began to cast a spell, using wind elementals to blow the sea of fire toward the city wall, engulfing both the besieging Orcs and the High Elves in the flames.
"Ah!" A chorus of screams instantly erupted. The feeling of being burned alive, combined with the scorching heat and suffocating environment, filled them with despair and terror.
Just then, the magic towers that had been providing a continuous stream of support suddenly dimmed. The number and power of the arcane missiles dropped sharply. When they hit the Orcs, it was like they were just being tickled.