McDonald never underestimated the escape ability of an egg.
Unless he abandons treatment on his own, it is really not easy for him to die.
As a mage, it’s normal to hold a double-egg knife, right?
As a master, with toned muscles and a physical dodge of 90%, this is pretty cool, right?
As a mage, all kinds of energy and elements explode, burning the enemy's mana and draining blood. This is definitely a true mage, right?
Anyway, the rain of righteous fire from the sky could burn Illidan to death. McDonald was the first one not to believe it.
He really never thought that the enemy would burn Illidan's head into the Mediterranean Sea, even if it was temporary.
After the war, more than 500 soldiers were killed and more than 1,000 were burned. Naturally, Black Crow Fortress was a busy scene.
McDonald used his commanding instinct to arrange major events in an orderly manner.
When he was conducting on-site, he saw Whisperwind Stormrage.
"Ah! No! Tyrande, don't look..." Illidan, who was still young at this time, covered his head with his hands in despair, as if he was duplicitously promoting Overlord Shampoo.
"Actually, it's nothing." The rather dull and serious Malfurion, as a male elf with a green prairie on his head all year round, cannot understand the hardships of Mediterranean men.
"Illidan, you... just be fine, let me see, I can use magic to help you." Tyrande is purely kind-hearted. Of course, as a professionally trained priest, she is certainly not the kind of 'what do you have?
A guy who talks about unhappy things to make everyone happy.
She will not laugh at any injured person unless she can't help it...
"puff!"
Tyrande's chuckle was like the bells of hell's judgment, which suddenly made Illidan's heart sink and he plummeted into the abyss.
McDonald coughed, and the three guest teasers immediately stood up straight, and then bowed to McDonald.
Even if Illidan had a bald head, he would not dare to cover it, after all, it would be disrespectful.
"Hello, deputy leader!" they said in unison.
"Hey, isn't this our Vanguard Palace Illidan * Stormrage?" There was a bit of frivolity in McDonald's voice.
This made Illidan unsure. After all, the gap in status was here. He quickly lowered his head and said: "I'm sorry, Mr. Deputy Alliance Leader, I was too presumptuous."
"It's okay, but you should pay more attention to the location of your comrades. It is not a good thing to go deep alone at any time."
"I have learned the lesson." Although he was unwilling to admit it, Illidan could only admit it on the surface.
At this time, McDonald did something that shocked the onlookers. He gently stroked Illidan's face...and the hair on the side, and then gathered up the hair on Illidan's temples and the back of his head.
McDonald gently grabbed a handful of Illidan's hair with one hand, and with an aura of "insert bid to sell first", turned to Tyrande and asked: "Hello, priest, do you have a hair tie?"
Tyrande was stunned for a moment, but took out a hair tie.
For some reason, MacDonald was suddenly very scared. Tyrande would roll up his sacrificial robe and take out a piece of fat from underneath and use it as a headband.
Fortunately, it was a serious hair tie.
Afterwards, McDonald gently gave Illidan a headband!
Needless to say, only the Mediterranean can experience the troubles of the Mediterranean.
In a mirror that McDonald asked his deputy to find, Illidan looked at himself in surprise.
It’s neither flattering nor dark, and the round head not only perfectly hides the baldness, but also really gives off a [fashionable] feeling.
Tyrande opened her mouth slightly in surprise. After realizing it was a little indecent, she could only cover her little cherry mouth with her hands.
McDonald was like a kind elder, comforting an egg: "The scalp on your head is fine, and your hair will probably grow back. Until then, let's wear it with this hairstyle. A true warrior should not let this happen.
It's a shame to do something trivial, isn't it?"
"Yes...ah...thank you, sir!" For the first time in his life, the unruly Illidan felt admiration and gratitude towards his compatriots.
He cares about his image in Tyrande's eyes.
McDonald perfectly helped him save a lot of points.
McDonough didn't realize at all that just such a small help would make Illidan quite obedient in the next battle. McDonough told him to go to the west, at least not to the east.
The style of play is not as wild as before, such as launching blue-burning magical skills in a wide area, regardless of the feelings of companions.
As time passed, the situation actually became worse for ordinary night elves.
After all, the Burning Legion has endless troops, and the night elves, to put it bluntly, even if these long-eared people are now the most numerous intelligent race in Azeroth, this small population is not enough to fill the teeth of the demon army.
It can still withstand it now, purely because the portal is not big enough, and the number of demons pouring out per unit time is still limited.
Even so, Duke Ravencase is already feeling a lot of pressure. Even if he had other small thoughts, he has no time now. He has to rely more on MacDonald. After all, the ability is here, even if MacDonald has various
It's a fancy stroke, but Mai does it casually, which is better than other unreliable nobles.
He didn't expect that just like this, anyone with a discerning eye could see that he led the night elves to resist in a way that had nothing to do with the overall situation, and actually offended Queen Azshara.
In the gorgeous palace, the queen who was listening to the palace musicians suddenly frowned.
When he saw the queen's purple but graceful face showing displeasure, her personal guard, Captain Varosen, felt a pang of pain in his heart: "Your Majesty, the most beautiful in the world! What is troubling you?"
"I heard..." The Queen's voice was more melodious than a lark, as if every character was like a note in a beautiful tune. If you don't blow it, it won't be black. If you just listen to the voice and don't look at the face, McDonald will hear it.
I will definitely recognize her. How about your debut as a virtual idol?
The Queen whetted Varosen's appetite, and waited until his throat squirmed for the fifth time before she continued resentfully: "That Ravencrest, who overestimates his own capabilities, actually led his troops to resist my Sargeras army?"
"That self-proclaimed noble Ravencrest deserves to die!" Varoson, the queen's top dog licker, immediately became furious.
"Forget it, let's not mention him." The Queen waved her hand gracefully, as if she was shooing Ravencase away like a fly.
The guy below understands this.
Three days later, in the Black Crow Fortress, everything happened so suddenly.
Just after coming out of the military conference room, a guy who looked like a messenger came in from the outside. The guard looked at his badge and ignored him.
It's not McDonald's fault, the security at Black Crow Fortress looks like shit.
Ravencrest has soldiers from dozens of dark elf nobles, large and small, and has never thought of integrating them properly. This results in an order needing to be repeated dozens of times before it can be truly conveyed to the front line.
The messenger is also a high-risk profession. The messengers traveling around are intercepted and killed by demons from time to time.
The messengers from each family come and go, and it is normal for them to have fresh faces.
but……
At least do some research!
McDonald suggested it, but Ravencase ignored it.
Brother, Queen Azshara really wants you to die!
Right in front of MacDonald and Tyrande, the tired Ravencase was wiped on the neck by a sneak attack from the 'Herald'.
