Tyrande's voice grew cold, the natural authority of the High Priestess and leader of the Night Elves radiating from her.
"Warden, are you questioning the command of Lord Cenarius, or are you challenging my authority? The iron heel of the Burning Legion is about to trample our sacred lands. This is no time to cling to outdated regulations!"
She unfurled Cenarius's scroll. It bore the natural seal of the Demigod, and a vast, unmistakable aura of a powerful being emanated from it.
Rhodes shrugged helplessly. Are they really going to start a fight?
He knew Tyrande's personality was far more ruthless than her gentle appearance suggested. In the history of the game lore, she didn't hesitate to kill fellow Night Elves to reach Illidan. Conversely, Maiev Shadowsong was just as vicious, even attempting to leave Tyrande for dead during the Frozen Throne campaign.
Hoping to prevent this internal tragedy, Rhodes prepared his magic. He hadn't been idle during the past ten days; with the resources gathered by Cenarius, he had already constructed the Altar of Spirit Elementals in his Elemental Castle. He had also reached Level 1 in the Mage Guild, learning spells like Bless, Dispel, Magic Arrow, Haste, and Water Shield. If a fight broke out, he planned to use Haste on himself and then cast Blind to incapacitate the Wardens without killing them.
"Lady Tyrande, we do not question you or the Demigod," one of the Wardens said, her voice softening but her stance remaining firm. "But Illidan Stormrage is an extremely dangerous prisoner. Mistress Maiev emphasized that no one—no one—is to release him without her permission."
"Where is Maiev now?" Tyrande suppressed her rage.
"She is patrolling other outposts and purging Fel-corrupted monsters. We cannot contact her immediately."
"By the time she returns, all may be lost!" Tyrande stepped forward. "Archimonde will not wait for your paperwork! Open the door—that is an order! I will take full responsibility."
The Wardens gripped their moon-glaives, their bodies tense. The air felt thick enough to shatter. Just as Tyrande's killing intent reached a peak, Rhodes placed a hand on her shoulder and stepped forward with a calm smile.
"Respected Wardens, I understand your duty," Rhodes began. "You fear Illidan's danger. That is fair. But the Burning Legion is the enemy that is at our doorstep right now."
"Do you really see the man behind this door as just a prisoner? No. He is a weapon—a blade forged specifically to slay demons, locked away for ten thousand years. Now that the demons are here, it is time for the blade to be unsheathed. Keeping him locked here is a waste of a vital resource and a threat to Azeroth's safety."
"You speak lightly, Human!" a Warden retorted. "You have no idea what he did!"
Rhodes rolled his eyes internally. I know exactly what he did, and I know how much he was scapegoated. It wasn't just the second Well of Eternity; the Legion would have targeted Azeroth regardless because of the sleeping world-soul within the planet.
"I know he tried to create a new Well. I know he embraced Fel for power," Rhodes said aloud. "But I also know that in the ancient war, he infiltrated the Legion and provided the intelligence that allowed us to close the portal.
Has ten thousand years of imprisonment not been enough? Or has the Wardens' duty become so focused on guarding that you've forgotten the enemy you were founded to fight?"
The Wardens exchanged a look of hesitation. The Demigod's order was real, and the Legion's return was no longer a secret.
"Let's perform a test," Rhodes suggested. "If you fear he is uncontrollable, open the door and let Lady Tyrande and me go in. If anything goes wrong, you can seal the door or take 'necessary measures.' Between Tyrande, myself, and your elite guards, surely we can handle one prisoner who hasn't seen the sun in ten millennia?"
It was a logical compromise that gave the Wardens a graceful exit. After a long silence, the senior Warden nodded. "Fine. Only the two of you enter. We will remain on high alert."
The heavy iron door groaned open. Tyrande stepped in without hesitation, Rhodes following close behind. Navigating the rest of the vault required further persuasion, and Rhodes noticed that Tyrande's reputation among the Wardens was at an all-time low.
"Rhodes, if they refuse to let Illidan leave later, I want you to kill them," Tyrande whispered as they reached the final cell.
"It hasn't come to that, Tyrande. I'm not going to murder people for you," Rhodes shook his head. "If things get ugly, I'll use magic to trap them, not kill them."
"Hmph. The you from ten thousand years ago was much more decisive," she cold-snorted, entering the deepest part of the cell.
In the center of the dark cage, a blindfolded man lifted his head. He was more muscular than a typical Night Elf, with curved demon horns, cloven hooves, and an aura of Fel energy radiating from his skin.
"Tyrande... is that truly your voice?" Illidan's voice rasped through the dark. "After ten thousand years of darkness, your voice is like the pale moonlight, illuminating my heart once more."
Rhodes cringed slightly at the sheer cheesiness of the line.
"It is I, Illidan," Tyrande said with a faint smile. "The Burning Legion has invaded our world once more. Your people need your strength."
"I owe my people nothing, Tyrande," Illidan replied. "But for you... I would hunt every demon in existence. Wait... I sense someone else with you. Who is it?"