Andreas was born into an ancient civilization with a history of five thousand years and an uninterrupted cultural heritage. Throughout the ages, his homeland had birthed countless classic books on military strategy and tactics.
While Andreas wouldn't dare claim to have read every military treatise, he was at least familiar with the strategies and stratagems featured in the Four Great Classical Novels, such as Romance of the Three Kingdoms and Water Margin.
There is a famous quote from The Art of War by Sun Tzu: "Thus the highest form of generalship is to balk the enemy's plans; the next best is to prevent the junction of the enemy's forces; the next best is to fight the enemy's army in the field; and the worst policy of all is to besiege walled cities."
The Records of the Three Kingdoms also mentions: "Winning hearts is the superior strategy; attacking cities is the inferior one."
Currently, the Satyrs lingering outside the Starfall Village defensive line had long since lost their will to fight, occupied instead with their internal power struggles. However, they still possessed a massive force of nearly one hundred thousand, which maintained a formidable deterrent.
In a frontal assault, even if the morale of the two sides was worlds apart, the Night Elf coalition—with fewer than 70,000 troops—would likely find it difficult to gain a decisive advantage.
In Shandris's eyes, her boyfriend's head was always full of "wicked ideas" when facing an enemy. Even in one-on-one combat, Andreas would often use verbal provocations to goad the enemy, forcing them to lose their composure and underperform.
Leaving the task of sowing discord to Andreas, Shandris—who had been carrying the pressure alone for months—stretched comfortably and leisurely left the observation tower with Leticia.
Left alone to observe the distant camp, countless thoughts raced through Andreas's mind. Ultimately, based on the current situation, he decided on the scheme he would implement to provoke them.
...
Since the emergence of the semi-demonic Satyr race, the Felpaw clan—established by Xavius and expanded by Xavarian—had been the benchmark for the entire race, possessing undisputed dominance. While other Satyr clans had long been envious of the Felpaw's status, the absolute gap in strength meant no one dared to stick their head out or voice a complaint.
Xavarian, the leader of the Felpaw clan, had ambitiously planned an all-out war against the Night Elves. He attempted to use a pre-planned sneak attack to destroy Annahis, the new Night Elf capital, and burn the World Tree Nordrassil, thereby achieving revenge against the "lowly commoners" and returning the Satyrs—descendants of the Highborne—to their peak.
Unfortunately, he fell before achieving success.
By maneuvering his troops, Xavarian had managed to pin down the Sentinels—the primary garrison force within Night Elf territory—in Winterspring and Felwood Forest. He had even used gathered intelligence to exploit Tyrande's personality flaws, betting that she would not request reinforcements from Moonshadow's Rest.
Although a significant number of Arcanists had converted to Druidism after the War of the Ancients, causing a small-scale explosion in the number of Druids, these Druids had one major flaw. They frequently entered the Emerald Dream for hibernation to help the Green Dragons maintain the Dream world.
According to Xavarian's predictions, the number of Druids Malfurion could hastily wake from the Dream would not be large. An assault led personally by his elite forces should have been able to crush the Druidic defenses through numerical superiority.
However, Xavarian had calculated everything—except for the fact that Andreas would ignore orders and forcibly deploy his troops.
Attacked from both the front and rear, Xavarian ended his sinful life in utter frustration. But the impact he had on the situation in Kalimdor did not end there.
To ensure strict obedience, most of the twenty thousand elites who followed Xavarian into battle were handpicked from his own Felpaw clan. Nearly ten thousand of these elites perished at the foot of Mount Hyjal, and the remaining ten thousand fled in different directions into the mountains and forests, their whereabouts still unknown.
Having lost their twenty thousand most elite troops and their racial leader, Xavarian, the Felpaw clan's dominance was inevitably shaken.
Early that morning, clans large and small, including the Icehorn and Shadowhide, visited the Felpaw camp together to continue the verbal sparring match that had been ongoing for several days.
Just as the newly appointed Felpaw chieftain was eloquently spewing vitriol at his ill-intentioned kin, a scout from outside the camp suddenly brought a combat report: a Night Elf detachment of nearly ten thousand had launched an attack on the Felpaw camp zone.
The unnamed Felpaw chieftain impatiently waved his hand, signaling his generals to handle it according to the situation. A mere ten thousand people were not enough for him to care about.
When the Felpaw clan gathered their warriors to head out and meet the enemy, the group of Night Elves, who had just been shouting challenges at the gate, turned and left without hesitation.
This happened several times that day. Later on, the Felpaw soldiers lost their vigilance. The Night Elves took the opportunity to turn a feint into a real assault, delivering a sharp slap to the Felpaw clan's face.
This day was only the beginning. Over the following week, the Night Elves of Starfall Village launched dozens of provocations against the Felpaw clan, combining feints with real attacks.
The frustrated Felpaw chieftain attempted to rally the entire army for a full-scale assault on Starfall Village, but his proposal was immediately rejected by the various clans with sarcastic remarks.
Coming to their senses, the Felpaw clan noticed a problem: every single attack was targeted at the Felpaw camp zone. The other clans had not been attacked even once.
This situation was undoubtedly abnormal. While the Felpaw camp was the largest and located in the center of the main camp... setting aside the Shadowhide for a moment, the nearby Icehorn clan was also quite powerful. Why were the Night Elves focusing all their "wool-shearing" on a single sheep?
Suspicions grew. The Felpaw chieftain sent his trusted subordinates out under the cover of night to gather intelligence, and he actually discovered some unexpected circumstances.
A night scout from the Shadowhide clan secretly slipped out of the camp at midnight, only sneaking back with a smile on his face thirty minutes later.
This continued for several days. It wasn't just major clans like the Shadowhide and Icehorn; similar incidents occurred among small-to-medium clans like the Blackhoof and Felwind.
However, when the Felpaw Chieftain summoned these night guards for a confrontation, they gave a very unified, stuttering excuse.
"How could a stray Tallstrider possibly pass by in the freezing climate of Winterspring! Tell me the truth!"
The Felpaw chieftain interrogated them with soaring rage in front of all the clan leaders. He felt he was being collectively fooled by this group of ill-intentioned subordinates.
Since his power had significantly diminished, the Shadowhide clan leader's influence within the Satyr race had reached an all-time low. At this moment, he said with a forced smile, "We also initially suspected someone was talking nonsense, but after an investigation, we found that Tallstriders really do pass by the camp after nightfall."
"Why don't you come with us tonight to see for yourself?"
"Hmm?"
As the saying goes, a person with a crooked heart believes everyone else in the world is harboring a conspiracy. The Shadowhide leader had made the invitation out of a desire to please, but the Felpaw chieftain narrowed his eyes and didn't respond.
Turning to look at the various clan leaders in the Great Tent, all with different expressions, the Felpaw chieftain asked impassively, "You've all encountered similar situations? Why haven't any Tallstriders been seen near the Felpaw camp?"
The Icehorn leader sneered mockingly, "Maybe your Felpaw clan's prestige is too overwhelming, and you've scared the Tallstriders away?"
"Hmph!"
The Felpaw chieftain gave a cold snort. After a moment of pondering, he made a decision. "I'll believe you this once. I will go to the Shadowhide camp to inspect at midnight tonight. Don't make too much noise and startle the 'Tallstrider'."
After the clan leaders dispersed, a trusted Satyr asked quietly, "Chieftain, are we really going? I have a feeling there's a conspiracy involved."
"Heh~ Of course there's a conspiracy." The Felpaw chieftain sneered. "Do these fools think such a petty trick can hide the truth from me?"
"Ready the troops before midnight. And pay attention—keep the noise down."
The Felpaw chieftain adopted an air of having everything under control. "I want to see exactly what kind of hidden hand these ill-intentioned fellows are keeping in reserve."
Midnight in Winterspring was exceptionally cold. The howling wind carried snowflakes that stung the skin like ice-cold knives.
At the agreed-upon time, the Felpaw chieftain arrived at the Shadowhide clan's camp with a small group of elite personal guards. To his surprise, the leaders of the Icehorn and other clans were already there, waiting.
The atmosphere in the camp was extremely heavy. No one spoke; they all stared fixedly at the desolate snowfields outside the camp.
"Is this the spot?" the Felpaw chieftain asked in a low, cold voice.
"Yes," the Shadowhide leader whispered, pointing to a path winding through the trees not far away. "According to our scouts, that 'stray' Tallstrider appears there every night between 12:00 and 12:30."
The Felpaw chieftain sneered inwardly. He didn't believe for a second that a Tallstrider would wander around in such weather. He was convinced this was a pre-arranged signal for a clandestine meeting between these "traitors" and the Night Elves.
True to the Shadowhide leader's word, a tall, shadowy figure soon emerged from the blizzard. Its gait was distinctive—the jerky, rhythmic stride of a Tallstrider—but its silhouette was blurred by the heavy snow.
"There it is!" someone whispered excitedly.
The Felpaw chieftain's eyes narrowed. As the "Tallstrider" drew closer, he noticed something strange. The creature wasn't making any sound, and its movements, while mimicking a bird, seemed oddly mechanical.
"Wait... that's not a living creature!" the Icehorn leader realized, his voice filled with sudden alarm.
Before anyone could react, the "Tallstrider" suddenly stopped and exploded into a brilliant burst of Arcane light. The flash was so intense that it momentarily blinded the Satyrs, whose eyes were adjusted to the darkness.
"Ambus—!"
The Felpaw chieftain's warning was cut short as a barrage of arrows and spells rained down from the surrounding ridges. However, the attacks weren't aimed at the group of leaders; they were aimed exclusively at the Felpaw elite guards.
At the same time, several figures emerged from the Shadowhide tents behind them, shouting, "Kill the Felpaw tyrants! The Night Elves have promised us freedom!"
"You traitors!" the Felpaw chieftain roared, swinging his Fel-infused blade at the Shadowhide leader.
"It's not us! We were set up!" the Shadowhide leader shrieked, barely parrying the blow.
On the ridges overlooking the chaos, Andreas stood calmly beside Shandris. He was holding a small Arcane controller, a faint smile on his face.
"A simple Arcane puppet and some basic psychological framing," Andreas remarked. "They were already looking for a reason to kill each other. I just gave them the stage."
Shandris watched the Satyr camp descend into a bloody free-for-all. "By tomorrow morning, their coalition will be a memory. You really do have a 'crooked heart,' Andreas."
"I prefer the term 'tactical efficiency,'" Andreas replied, looking toward the west. "Once this is over, we can finally return to Moonshadow's Rest. I've missed the rice paddies."
The civil war among the Satyrs had officially begun, ignited by a bird that never existed.