Naga

Illidan stealthily advanced, knowing that the naga's main camp was located on a fragmented island called Nazjatar, directly west of the Dominance Point.

As he passed by the Dominance Point, he was once again drawn to the enormous sword. No one knows who could wield such a massive sword, taller than ten meters, nor does anyone know what kind of monster the corpse beneath it came from. The night elves have a long history, but their records contain no mention of such a scene.

Seeing the great sword and the monster beneath it, mostly buried in the soil, with only some enormous scales and carapace exposed, Illidan suddenly felt a sense of foreboding. He had seen this scene as a child. The corpse hadn't completely decayed in over ten thousand years. Could it be—was it still not dead?

Illidan shook his head, dismissing the absurd thought. How could that be? That thing must have died tens of thousands of years ago, right? Perhaps only a fossil remains.

He strode away from the area and continued forward, gradually spotting traces of the naga. Using magic, he concealed himself and continued to approach Nazjatar.

However—he had only just landed on the island and hadn't even infiltrated the heart of it to meet the naga leader when a naga witch discovered him and issued a warning. Soon, more and more naga swarmed over, surrounding him.

Illidan gripped the Twin Blades of Azzinoth, his palms sweating slightly. He felt as if almost every naga and murloc on the island had surrounded him. The chattering of the murlocs filled his ears, incredibly noisy and unsettling.

"Was I too reckless?"

"I should immediately fight my way out and escape!"

"No, no, not yet. Wait a little longer."

"I must see their leader."

Illidan immediately shouted, "Let your leader come out, I want to talk to him!"

He spoke in the language of the night elves, and he was preparing to try other common languages he knew. Unexpectedly, as soon as he finished speaking, he heard the naga whispering to each other.

"Drop your weapons and stand here!" He heard a slightly stiff female voice coming from a four-armed naga in front of him.

Doubt filled Illidan's heart. These sea witches actually knew the night elf language? He sheathed his twin blades, no longer aiming them at the sea witches.

Soon, a six-armed naga appeared in his perception. This was the most powerful sea witch he had ever seen. Wherever she went, all the naga and murlocs scrambled to make way for her.

"I heard you wanted to negotiate with me, elf?" the six-armed naga asked. Her night elf language was much better than the naga who had announced his presence earlier, and it was almost indistinguishable from the real night elf language. Moreover… perhaps it was just his imagination, but he found the voice somewhat familiar, as well as the tone.

"Yes, naga sea witch," Illidan replied. Seeing that the other party didn't immediately attack, he immediately felt that the possibility of successful negotiation was much higher. "I am Illidan Stormrage, commander of the night elves."

"You may call me Lady Vashj!" the six-armed naga said with a soft laugh.

"Vashj?" Illidan felt like he should have heard this name before. "Lady Vashj?"

"Yes, Illidan, it is I, Vashj! Haha, you seem surprised," Vashj said with a gleeful laugh.

A storm of shock arose in Illidan's heart. These naga were actually the highborne who had sunk into the sea with Queen Azshara after the explosion of the Well of Eternity during the War of the Ancients?

If Vashj was still alive, then had Queen Azshara also become like this?

"Why are you attacking the land?" Illidan received an answer that far exceeded his expectations, but with it came even more questions.

Vashj replied matter-of-factly, "Because this was originally Her Majesty's land. We are merely taking it back from the usurpers."

"In your current form?" Illidan made no attempt to hide his disdain.

"So what? Our numbers are endless!"

Seeing Illidan's expression turn heavy, Vashj suddenly chuckled, her voice teasing, "I was just saying—actually, we are here for the Burning Legion!"

Illidan was momentarily confused by the naga's thoughts and didn't know if Vashj was telling the truth or not. He couldn't help but ask, "Weren't you originally serving the Burning Legion?"

The War of the Ancients occurred because the highborne abused the power of the Well of Eternity, attracting the attention of the Burning Legion. Queen Azshara even served Sargeras as the supreme god, opening the gate to Azeroth for the Dark Titan. Although Sargeras failed to enter this world due to unforeseen circumstances, his servants did descend.

"But they abandoned us," Vashj's voice became filled with hatred. "Upon learning that they have returned to this world, the Queen immediately ordered us to exact revenge!"

Illidan suddenly felt that he was one step closer to the truth. The naga treating the demons as enemies was definitely good news! And judging from the current war situation, Vashj wasn't just putting on an act. When Illidan first arrived, he had personally witnessed several major battles between demons and naga.

"Why did you become like this?" Illidan couldn't help but ask.

"Isn't it good this way?" Vashj deliberately twisted her snake-like body, moving all six of her arms, her snake-like long hair also dancing wildly. "This is a gift from our new master. He allows us to become the overlords of the Endless Sea, making us even stronger than before!"

Illidan deliberately asked, "Then why are you still thinking about attacking the land? Isn't it good to stay in the sea and continue being overlords?"

"It sounds like you look down on the power of the ocean, Illidan. But the deep sea holds even more secrets, containing powerful forces you could never imagine."

"Then I'll wait and see," Illidan said. He suddenly developed a tiny bit of interest in the naga's new master—what kind of power could completely transform a land-dwelling species into an amphibious one?

However, he didn't forget the purpose of his trip. Since these could be considered his "old acquaintances," he could speak his mind without any reservations.

"Alliance?" Vashj showed some interest upon hearing his proposal. "It's not entirely impossible."

"What are the conditions?" Illidan asked immediately, hearing that there was a chance. He secretly decided that as long as the conditions weren't too harsh, he would agree.

Vashj said, "You once pledged allegiance to Her Majesty the Queen, so I am willing to trust your character. But we don't trust anyone else besides you! Especially your brother, Malfurion, and Tyrande. We can cooperate, but that's only personal help for you, not for that group of traitors on Mount Hyjal. Do you understand my meaning?"

These conditions were much more lenient than Illidan had anticipated—they were hardly a constraint at all, and actually quite beneficial to him. He wasn't willing to bring these naga into his own group, as that would inevitably arouse suspicion among the other night elves. He had already faced enough rejection.

Besides, he didn't trust these naga either. He always understood that his relationship with Vashj was one of mutual exploitation. After dealing with the demons on the Darkshore, he could part ways with these naga.

"Understood, I understand perfectly," Illidan said with a smile.

Vashj smiled back, equally pleased. "Very well. From today onward, my army will not actively attack your camps, and I ask that you restrain your own subordinates as well."

"I will," Illidan agreed readily, and requested, "I hope you will keep your promise."

"You will see," Vashj replied.

Having accomplished all this, Illidan returned satisfied.

Vashj watched the demon hunter leave Nazjatar Island, a meaningful smile on her face. She said to another naga beside her, "Report to the Queen, the first step of the plan has succeeded—the target is approaching the bait."

"As you command, my lady!"

—

Illidan on the Darkshore "cleverly" resolved the naga threat, allowing him to focus on exterminating the demons there. But the situation in Theramore on the eastern coast was a different story.

Admiral Barry Westwin had almost gone gray with anxiety during this time. The naga and murloc attacks were becoming increasingly fierce. Now, the connection between the fortress and the outside world had been completely severed, and the ships originally docked in the harbor had all been sunk or destroyed by the sea witches. They were trapped on this isolated island, cut off from all supplies.

The sea witches monitored them during the day and attacked at night, constantly exhausting the garrison here.

Theramore had originally been built in a short amount of time, with walls that were neither high nor thick enough, limiting its defensive capabilities. Night battles were even more disadvantageous for humans. The messenger he had sent for help had been gone for half a month. He knew that the journey from the new city to Theramore was long, but he still urgently hoped that the messenger would appear before him immediately.

Because now there were only five hundred soldiers left in the city, many of whom were wounded. Countless desperate wounded soldiers lay in the barracks, and the immigrants and merchants stranded in the city were all terrified, fearing that they would wake up one night to find the city being massacred by the sea witches.

Left with no choice, General Barry had conscripted able-bodied men from the immigrants to help them defend the city. These untrained people could only provide a little extra manpower, and suffered heavy casualties after each battle.

He had considered retreating into the swamp, but the swamp was not safe either. Their breakout would definitely consume a lot of strength, and large areas of the swamp were controlled by demons that had fallen from the sky. Retreating would only be sending themselves from the mouths of the sea witches into the mouths of the demons.

In comparison, the vast majority of people would rather die at the hands of the sea witches.

Since the start of the war, General Barry hadn't had a good night's sleep. It was daytime, the soldiers' rest time. Barry lay on his cot, resting, his brow furrowed, having a nightmare. Suddenly, he heard the sound of an emergency assembly horn. He woke up immediately, and when he opened his eyes, it was still daytime—an ominous premonition arose in his heart—could it be that the naga were launching an attack even during the day?

He grabbed his sword and ran out, just as a guard ran over in a panic. He grabbed the guard and shouted, "What happened?"

"General, the sea witches are attacking!"

"How many?"

"More than ever before! No end in sight!" the guard replied, trembling.

Barry felt a darkness before his eyes. He forced himself to calm down and shouted, "Quick, quick, to the city walls! If we can't defend the walls, we're all dead!"

After climbing the city walls, everything was indeed as the guard had said. The daytime visibility was good, and General Barry immediately saw thousands upon thousands of sea witches coming from the sea. The surface of the sea was covered with densely packed naga and murloc heads.

"Is this our final moment?" General Barry thought despairingly. His hand holding the sword couldn't help but tremble. He knew that he should draw his sword now and order the soldiers to prepare for defense, but the sword was stuck somewhat tightly in its scabbard, and he couldn't seem to draw it out.

"Holy Light above…" he almost groaned, his eyes filled with gray, "Reinforcements, why haven't our reinforcements arrived yet?"

But just then, a burst of dense gunfire suddenly came from the west of Theramore—the sound of muskets firing—gunfire? Theramore's garrison had long run out of ammunition and artillery, so who else would be firing?

He immediately thought of who it was. Cheers from behind told him everything.

Reinforcements, the reinforcements have finally arrived!