The next morning, the port of Unfallen City was busier than ever. Countless large and small warships were moving in and out of the harbor.
Tyrande stood by the docks, her eyes fixed on several massive steel warships under Abbendis' command, each more than a hundred meters long. A look of seriousness flashed across her face.
Until yesterday, she had never heard of Abbendis possessing such ships.
Before this, the largest ships in his fleet were seventy-meter sailing warships. In the human kingdoms, such vessels were already considered very powerful, but in the eyes of the night elves, they were far from a real threat.
After all, as an ancient civilization with tens of thousands of years of history, the night elves' true strength was far deeper than what they showed on the surface.
But these new ships were different.
According to the news her scouts had just gathered, these were newly developed warships of the human kingdoms, known as ironclads. Though their cores were still wooden structures, a thick layer of steel plating had been added. That armor alone could change the tide of battle. At the very least, the night elves' blade-throwers would do far less damage to them.
What's more, despite their heavy appearance, these warships used a strange new technology called the steam engine. It was said they could travel several times faster than normal ships.
It seemed she needed to keep a closer eye on the humans and their development. According to past intelligence, they were not exactly a quiet and peace-loving race.
If…
As Tyrande was deep in thought, the tolling of bells rang out from the distant city towers.
That was the call for the human ground forces to gather.
"Honored Priestess, it's time to board!" a human attendant ran up to her, calling out respectfully.
Although the night elves had sent their own ships on this Broken Isles expedition, as one of her people's highest leaders, Tyrande had been invited aboard Abbendis' flagship—the King's Glory.
"Welcome aboard the King's Glory, Lady Tyrande. I hope you will enjoy a fine journey here!" Abbendis greeted her warmly after she was led onto the ship.
"Thank you, my lord. I am sur—" Tyrande began politely, but suddenly, the city's alarm bells rang again.
Everyone turned their heads toward the sky. A small black dot was flying quickly toward Unfallen City.
From afar, most races could not see clearly, but the sharp eyes of the night elves quickly made out the figure: a messenger riding a hippogryph.
"My lord, forgive me. That is a messenger of my people—it must be urgent news. Please allow him through!" Tyrande said quickly.
Abbendis did not stop her. He waved his hand, signaling the guards to lower their weapons.
The hippogryph rider flew straight through Unfallen's defenses and landed on the deck of the King's Glory. Jumping down, he handed a scroll directly to Tyrande.
Tyrande took the scroll, glanced at it, and her face instantly changed. This must be serious, Abbendis thought to himself when he saw her expression.
"My lord, I am sorry. I cannot go with you to the Broken Isles. But my deputy, Maiev, will remain on the ship in my place." Tyrande closed the scroll with a heavy face and turned to Abbendis.
"Priestess, what has happened?" Maiev, who stood behind Tyrande, stepped forward in confusion. What could be so important that Tyrande herself would be called away, and yet her own Watchers had heard nothing?
"Silithus," Tyrande answered softly, not saying more, only speaking the name of the place.
Hearing the name Silithus, Maiev's face also changed. She knew very well what that meant.
A thousand years ago, during the War of the Shifting Sands, the night elf empire had faced its greatest crisis since the War of the Ancients. Although Maiev's Watchers had only entered the battlefield later as support troops, the endless swarms of insects had left her with a memory she would never forget.
If not for the Dragonflights joining in time to bear the brunt of the fight, it might have ended in another terrible defeat for the night elves. Even so, that war had left her people with deep scars that never fully healed.
Could the insects be back again? Maiev looked at Tyrande with a questioning gaze. Tyrande didn't answer with words, only gave a small nod.
That silent exchange was enough for Maiev to understand how serious things were, so she asked no more.
After giving a few quick instructions, Tyrande mounted her own hippogryph and flew toward Feralas. By last night, the urgent news from Silithus had already reached there.
As the key stronghold linking the north and south of the night elf empire, Feralas always housed large numbers of sentinels. After a night of preparation, those forces were already battle-ready, waiting only for Tyrande to take command and lead them to Silithus.
Once she left, Abbendis had people guide Maiev and the other night elves to their cabins. Before departing, he gave Maiev a thoughtful glance.
Because of the Watchers' secrecy, even within the night elf people themselves—especially among the younger generations born after the War of the Ancients—Maiev was almost unknown. She was far less famous than her brother, the great hero Jarod Shadowsong, even though she had once served as High Priestess.
So Tyrande had only hidden Maiev's identity as a Watcher, not her real name. But she never expected Abbendis to have an edge—he only needed her name, and her true identity was exposed immediately.
Maiev Shadowsong, the Watcher…
On Josh's latest procurement list, her name was at the very top.
Unfortunately for him, the night elves were at their peak now. It was not the right time to make a move.
As the fleet set sail, Abbendis returned to his cabin, carrying a trace of regret.
"Abbendis!" Just as he sat down, a voice spoke in the empty room.
"Ancient One? How are you here?" Abbendis turned, startled, only to see Ancient One standing there. "Didn't Mr. Xu Wenwu say you had important matters to handle? How are you back so soon?"
That morning, before departure, Abbendis had noticed the Ancient One missing from Josh's group. When he asked Xu Wenwu, the deputy leader, he was told Ancient One had urgent business to take care of and would catch up later.
Abbendis had been uneasy. After all, he was the host here—these outsiders had come to help, but they shouldn't act without telling him anything. If something went wrong and ruined his whole plan, what then?
But years of experience had taught him to keep calm, so he had not shown his dissatisfaction.
"The matter is mostly settled. Otherwise, Tyrande wouldn't have left, would she?" Ancient One said calmly.
"What? So her sudden departure was because of you? What really happened?" Abbendis asked in surprise. He had never thought Tyrande's leaving would be linked to Ancient One.
"Yes. Something unusual happened last night, so I went to Silithus myself… Don't worry. Now the night elves won't be able to spare the strength to interfere with you. Once you reach the Broken Isles, you can act without holding back." Ancient One explained.
"Silithus? C'Thun… and Ahn'Qiraj?" Abbendis' face changed at once. He knew well what lurked there.
"Don't worry. C'Thun and the Qiraji are no threat to you." A faint smile curved Ancient One's lips. "In fact, they will only clear the night elves out of your way."
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