During the flight, the terrain gradually ascended, eventually forming a verdant plateau named "Mount Hyjal."
And right at the summit of this plateau, Nordasir stood majestically, its towering form piercing the sky, as if supporting the heavens and earth themselves.
Its boundless, lush foliage was like a flowing emerald ocean, casting shadows that almost covered the entire mountain.
The tree trunk was ancient and vigorous, its bark covered with crisscrossing luminous cracks, each one flowing with the blessing power of the Dragon Aspects.
It was not only the sacred tree of the Night Elves but also the source of their immortal life and power.
They glided downwards, passing through the layers of the tree's crown.
They passed through the mist and hanging vines, finally landing at the place where Nordasir was rooted—Illidan's second Well of Eternity.
It was a tranquil and profound lake, its surface like a mirror, reflecting the magnificent outline of the World Tree and the ethereal glow in the air.
Tyrande, in her moon-white priestess robes, seemed to have been waiting for a long time. She waved to the giant eagle circling in the air: "Archdruid, over here."
The giant eagle folded its wings, and the moment it touched the ground, emerald light flowed again, and Malfurion returned to his human form, landing steadily beside Tyrande.
His tall figure almost immediately blocked the moonlight in Tyrande's eyes.
Their gazes met, and thousands of years of unspoken understanding and longing flowed silently in the stillness.
Tyrande's eyes reflected the faint glow of the Well of Eternity, and a subtle curve formed at the corner of her lips.
Malfurion, meanwhile, reached out, his fingertips gently brushing the sleeve of her moon-white priestess robe, as if confirming the reality of the person before him.
Time seemed to freeze for a moment between this ancient couple, with only the ethereal glow of the Well of Eternity flowing quietly around them.
Until a low, unromantic cough broke the silence.
Malfurion's gaze finally shifted from Tyrande's face to the source of the sound.
The visitor floating beside the Well of Eternity had a form that reminded Malfurion of a lesser dragon he had once seen in Pandaria—a Cloud Serpent—yet it was distinctly different.
He was clearly more majestic and powerful, covered from head to tail in dark scales that gleamed with a cold, hard luster under the well's ethereal light.
His slender, wingless body contained the heavy power of a mountain, his whiskers hung down, his head held high, and a pair of unfathomable eyes quietly watched them.
Tyrande's voice sounded at the opportune moment, "This is our guest from afar, Lin Mo."
The majestic being nodded slightly, and a low voice sounded, "Hello, Archdruid."
Malfurion returned the nod with the same slight movement, his emerald gaze as steady as water. "Lord Lin Mo. Your form—is impressive."
He made no attempt to hide his observation, "Tyrande said you are from Northrend?"
"Northrend," Lin Mo's voice was low and clear, "that land of permafrost and storms, is the territory I awakened to and protect."
"Protect?" Malfurion caught the weight of that word.
"Yes," Lin Mo's massive head turned slightly, looking towards the towering Nordasir, the sacred tree flowing with life and blessing power.
"I am the newly born Wild Spirit of that harsh land, the embodiment of severe cold and resilience."
A brief silence enveloped the area beside the Well of Eternity.
Tyrande stood quietly beside Malfurion, her moon-like eyes shifting between her husband and the visitor.
Lin Mo's gaze finally returned to Malfurion, with a quiet yet undeniable will.
"Archdruid," his voice dropped even lower, yet every word was clear, "I have come to visit this time with a request."
He paused, ensuring Malfurion understood the weight of his previous words.
"A branch of Nordasir."
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